Chapter Two
I have to admit; going to school had its advantages. Sure, most of the time it sucked, and I paid little to no attention, but there was one class that I couldn’t space out in if I tried, and that was chemistry.
Not only is chemistry, like, the funnest class ever. I mean, you get to light things on fire and make things explode. It was also the one and only class I had with Avery McFarlane. Not to mention the fact that he was my lab partner.
Walking into class, I took my seat immediately at our lab table, watching the door intently as the clock ticked the seconds away.
Please be here, please be here, please be here.
The bell rang, and within that second, as if on cue, Avery walked into the classroom.
Everything around me froze, and the room got a little darker. Professor Adams stood still as a statue, with his hand raised in the air, his mouth open. Students stood bent over their tables, and a pencil that had been falling was stuck inches from the ground.
Everything was still, calm, and inanimate. Everything. Except for me, and for Avery.
Avery didn’t seem to notice the freeze, however, because he continued walking toward our table. His black curls, kept neat and short, shined blue under the fluorescent lighting of the old building. Those violet eyes, so mysterious and dark, focused on me—Right on me!– and those perfect, pink lips pulled up into a soft, kind smile. His cheekbones stood out against his scruffy face, and his square jaw curved perfectly into his long neck, leading to a black t-shirt that was tight in all the right places, and navy, faded jeans. Black Converse hi-tops completed the look, and as I brought my eyes back up to his, everything around me slowly slid back into place, reality clicked in my mind, and time caught up with me.
I tore my gaze away, looking down at the pencil I held delicately in my hands, and kept my gaze averted as Avery took his seat next to me. “Morning, Lyd,” he said, and I smiled a bit. He was the only one to ever give me a nickname, and the only one I would ever allow to do so.
“Hey, Avery,” I replied quietly, and I could feel his eyes on me, could sense his easy, lazy, lopsided smile.
Jesus, he was perfect.
Professor Adams had launched right into his lecture, ranting on about calculating radioactivity of isotopes, and Avery had turned respectfully to give his attention to his teacher. I, however, didn’t find paying attention necessary, and kept my gaze on Avery, memorizing every flawlessly carved inch of him. The hormonal part of me wondered what was under that t-shirt, and how smooth his skin would be, how soft his lips would feel, and his strong hands… I realized my mind was wandering, and blushed. Avery looked over at me a moment, noticing the awful red pigment in my face, and offered an amused smile, tilting his head a bit, puzzled. I simply smiled back innocently, turning my body so it looked as if I was genuinely interested in radioactivity.
The end of class came all too soon, and when I stood to leave, I felt a soft, warm, firm hand on my arm (Don’t get carried away again!) and turned to see Avery looking down at me, his lips pulled back in a grin over perfect, white teeth. “Just curious, are you practicing to be a fire truck for Halloween? I’ve never seen someone’s face turn that red.” He laughed, and I laughed too, but inside my heart skipped a beat.
He’s touching my arm. He’s touching my arm. Oh my God.
“Sorry,” I said, “ I was just thinkin’ about something that happened last weekend, at this crazy party...”
