Enamour [boyxboy]

Chapter 5 - "You're insufferable."

Chapter 5

•Ethan's POV•

The bell had rung for first lunch, but I wasn't hungry. America was waiting for me outside the cafeteria. She grabbed me by the arm, hauling me back the way I came. "Trust me, you do not want to go in there, at least not yet."

We walked to our lockers first, exchanging our books now rather than later. Then, we walked to those double doors that led to the bleachers, field, and photography class. Oddly, there was no one practicing on the field, which really was a relief, even though I wouldn't pass up the chance to stare at some guys running around.

We marched up the bleachers, and sat a few down from the top. "So, why not the cafeteria?" I ask.

"It's too early for you to go in there, especially without a group." She sat cross-legged, facing me, crunching on an apple.

"Can't I go in with you?" I ask.

"I don't sit in the cafeteria, Ethan. Too much drama, too many people, too many assholes." She chucked her apple core up and over the remaining bleachers.

But, I thought . . . "I thought you were popular? You were gonna help me become popular." I know, I sound selfish, but I didn't want to start at the bottom of the social ladder. And I know, high school isn't about being popular, but I don't want to be nobody. Besides, like I said, beautiful clichés executed perfectly is like porn to me. And there's nothing more cliché about high school than being popular.

And if I can become popular, become my own beautiful cliché, then I'm going to try so hard to become that.

- - - - -

"Listen, it doesn't matter if I'm popular or not, you can still you go in there. I was just doing you a favor; letting you know what it's like," America said as we walked to third period. We both had class in the same corridor, but not the same classroom. "Besides, it's not likely you'll become popular unless you either 1) date a popular chick 2) get accepted into the group by a popular person or 3) play football."

I nodded her off, walking into the classroom. I sat down against the wall, dropping my books onto the table and pulling a pen out of my bag, followed by a calculator.

Math. What a stupid subject. It's not like I suck at it, I just hate it.

The teacher walked into the room, walking to the front of the class and immediately started writing on the board. Then, the chair beside me was pulled out. Goddamn, I was hoping no one would sit next to me.

"I hope you don't mind me sitting next to you." I internally groaned. I did not want him sitting next to me. Some stranger would be much preferred.

"It doesn't seem as though I have a choice," I said, lifting my head and looking Jake dead in the eyes. "Does it?" He just grinned. A goofy grin, all teeth and dimples and squinted eyes.

"Nope," he said, still grinning at me.

"You're insufferable."

"You love me," he said, sitting down then looking me in the eyes again. Those damn gorgeous eyes! "You know you love me." He pulled out his book, pen and calculator from his bag and plopped them all on the desk.

"I really don't," I said, turning my head and focusing on my work. I started to fill in my details on the front of the page, you know, name, school, year, subject type of bullshit. And again, I put swirls and loops on the letters. I know, I'm just a little weird.

Jake chuckled next to me. He was staring at my book, laughing at how I write my name down. "Seriously? Why do you keep laughing? It's just little swirls." I felt a little self conscious though, so I opened the book, hiding the cover.

"I'm sorry," he sounded honest, and just a little apologetic. Then, suddenly, he rested his head on my shoulder, his soft blond hair brushing against my neck. I tensed. "It's just really cute."

- - - - -

Did that really just happen? Did he just lean his head on me? Even if for a brief second. Do guys do that? I shook my head. I've been trying to ignore these questions, but it's rather hard when some cute guy from my photography class, that saved me from a panic attack, would lean his head on my shoulder.

Maybe I'm just over-thinking the whole thing, it was probably just some simple gesture. I mean, we did hug earlier, when he helped me come back from my panic attack. We hugged, and I didn't think much of that, but when he leans his head on me I fall into an endless oblivion of questions?

We were both just finishing copying the work off the board when Miss tells everyone to grab a textbook from the back of the classroom. I push my seat out from below me and stand, making my way to go get a textbook, but Jake pushes his chair out in front of me before I can move anywhere.

"I'll get a book for you." He flashed me a quick, toothy smile before getting out of his chair and going to get a book - and a book for me.

I felt a heat crawling up my neck, then my cheeks.

I'm blushing.

I don't blush. I never blush.

What is this guy doing to me? He offers to go get a book for me and I blush?!

I quickly sit back down in my chair, tucking it in and ducking my head. He can't see me blushing. I'll just say it's a little hot if he notices.

Jake slides a textbook on top of both our desks. "Sorry, there was only one book left. We'll have to share," he says. I look up at him, just praying my blush is gone, and then - then he winks at me. My cheeks warm up immediately. Guess I can't hide it now.

He either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, because he sits back down in his chair and opens the textbook.

I decide to follow and start copying down the equations and then answering them, but after at least two equations I'm kind of sick of it. I told you, I hate math.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, closely followed by my earphones. I put both earphones in, but don't actually press play. The teacher doesn't seem to care what we do; she's sat at her desk at the front of the class, reading one of those small romance books with a cliché shirtless guy with an eight pack on the front cover.

I give a half-assed attempt at another equation when Jake taps me on the shoulder. I look at him.

"Can I listen?" He asks, his soft brown eyes staring in mine.

"Oh," I say, taking an earphone out, "I wasn't actually listening to music, I just sometimes put my earphones in so people don't bother me."

I hand the earphone to him anyway, and he pops it in. "People like me?"

I just chuckle lightly as I hand him my phone.

"Why no password?" He asks as he slides across the screen, unlocking my phone.

"No one really ever goes through my phone, and I don't have anything to hide, anyway."

I turn back to my book, hopefully able to focus better on my work, when a song starts playing.

No. No, God, no.

I whip my head back to Jake, the phone screen currently displaying Taylor Swift's 1989 album cover, and the song Shake It Off playing through the earphones, while Jake is grinning from ear to ear at my phone.

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