Ready? Not Really.. (Fem USUK) •IN EDITING•

Alice

A/N:
there's a poo sketch attached that i drew in social studies class... it's how i picture amy and alice :p
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I was so not happy about it being a Monday.
Mondays were way awful already, but the traffic when I was returning to school with Francine made it twenty times worse. We got back to the campus around the same time lunch was beginning to end, and I had to rush out of the car to try and get to my room in time to change.
I sprinted across the sidewalks that winded around the school and back to the dorms, which was extremely uncomfortable in fucking tights. And paired with the cold autumn air and a ten pound bag banging against my leg every time I took a step..
It was hell to say in the least.
I was trying to readjust the strap on my gym bag when something slammed into my chest, knocking me onto my ass.
"Ally?"
Never mind. This was hell.
"Amelia?" I said in surprise, looking up at her. She had obviously been jogging. Her face was flushed and her hair was in a tight ponytail.
Also, she was wearing a sports bra and very tight leggings.
A sports bra. And leggings.
Sure, she had a jacket open over her bra. But still.
As if it wasn't already hard enough to focus with her around.
"Are you alright?" She asked, looking concerned. My heart was pounding hard in my chest. I forgot how to breathe. We had had an argument literally a few days before, and yet here I was, absolutely dumbfounded.
"Uhh.." I swallowed hard. "Yes. Yes! I'm fine." She had held her hand out, but I just waved it off and stood on my own.
Not like I wouldn't love to hold her hand, as grossly mushy and sentimental as it sounded.
Amelia looked slightly hurt that I completely blew her off, but she almost immediately bounced back to her normal energy. "Dude, how come you're wearing, like, nothing? It's probably thirty degrees out!"
I wrapped my arms around myself. "I am wearing something. It's called a leotard, genius."
She made a pouty face. "You don't need to be rude about it."
I looked up at her for a moment. "You don't need to be rude to me 24/7," I retorted. Her face got redder.
"I-I'm not that bad."
"You are that bad, Amelia." I tried to walk past her, but she was instantly blocking my path.
"Dude, you aren't even giving me a chance."
"Well, dude, you shouldn't be an asshole." I took another step, but she refused to budge. "This is really immature, Ameli-"
"How come you never call me by my nickname?" She blurted.
We stared at each other.
"Your.. what?" I was confused. What on earth did this have to do with anything? "Why do you care?"
"I dunno," she said. Amelia looked like she regretted asking. "Everyone else does, but you still call me Amelia."
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I call you that because I don't like shortening a name like yours."
"What's wrong with my name?" she looked hurt.
I groaned. "Nothing! I didn't say there was anything wrong with it!"
"But then-"
"Because it's perfect, alright?" I snapped.
Her eyes grew huge in surprise, and her eyebrows shot up over her glasses frames. "What?"
I immediately wished I was dead. "Errm.." I tried to think of some excuse, some sort of sarcastic, witty thing I could say to salvage what little dignity I had left in that moment.
"You think my name is perfect?" Amelia fiddled with the ends of her jacket.
"What does it matter what I think?" I said, flustered. I moved to try and get around her, but she instantly grabbed my arm to keep me from walking away.
"I think your name is really cool too," she said quickly. "Like, really perfect. And.. nice. And it fits you. Yeah." I looked up at her in shock.
Her face was centimetres away from mine. I could practically see my reflection in her glasses. And each long, individual eyelash surrounding those blue, blue eyes..
Oh, no, no, no.
"Uh.." I spluttered. She wouldn't move. I couldn't move. I was practically paralysed. "I.. uh.."
What do you do in this situation?
Push her away?
Confess your undying love?
Kiss her?
What the hell was I supposed to do?
That was the nicest compliment she'd given me in.. actually, it was the nicest compliment she had ever given me.
It was getting extremely hard to think when her lips were literally right in front of my face.
"Amelia-" I started.
But then the bell rang. Amelia instantly dropped my arm. It fell limply to my side.
God, fuck it all! We were getting somewhere this time!
"Um, I gotta-" She pointed behind her. "Go this way. Yeah. Class. Woohoo."
"Of course," I managed to say.
"I wanna talk to you about what I said the other night, though," she rushed, glancing behind her to see if anyone was watching. I wasn't sure why it mattered. I guess so she could keep her reputation for being straight and not hanging with the lesbian girl.
"Now?" I asked, not sure where she was going with this conversation.
"Later," she corrected me. I looked up at her in confusion.
"But how will you.. Where..?"
"Just-" she sighed and held out her hand. "Give me a pen."
I was baffled, but I unzipped my bag and dug around until I managed to find a sharpie. "Here.."
"Okay, your arm."
"My what?"
"Just give me your arm, man!"
I glared at her for being so rash, but held out my arm anyways. She grabbed my wrist and started writing something on my skin. "Amelia, what are you-?"
"There!" She let go of me. It felt unnaturally cold where her hands had been. "Text me, and I'll give you details. Alright?"
"Yeah," I said, not sure what else I should say. Thank you? I'm in love with you? Nothing good came to mind.
"Catch you later!" Amelia shot me a smile and jogged off in the opposite direction. I watched her as she left, trying not to let my eyes drift to her bottom.
Focus, goddammit.
I looked down at my arm, and my face felt warm.
Who knew it was so easy to get your crush's number?