Bloodlines (ON HOLD)

Chapter Four

Taryn

Beads of sweat decorate my forehead and I cautiously wipe my quivering palms on my pant leg. It takes me a second, when I open my eyes and awaken, to realize where I am. 

I’m in the back of Mr. Baker’s dull social studies classroom, which is my last class of the day. It may be one of the smallest rooms any student has ever been in, but I personally love this particular classroom. The heavy-weight Mr. Baker talking quietly in his monotone voice, puts me right to sleep.

The class itself was everyone’s slack-off-class. No one ever complained about Mr. Baker and his room. We were all the encompassment of grateful.

A few seconds after I’ve fully woken up, Ladon turns around in his plastic, vomit-green chair and lets out a chuckle at my falling asleep, making his seat screech as he moves in it. His face turns from an embodying smile to a concerned frown in a matter of seconds as he studies my face. “What is it?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I lie, trying to keep my mind from replaying the nightmare I’d just had.

“Alright T, but don’t think I believe you.” He tells me, gently wiping his forearm across my forehead to get rid of the headband of perspiration that was dampening it. I just shrug and act like I was interested in what Mr. Baker was practically whispering to the class.

He tells the class about watching a short film and flicks the lights off. Now the only light shining is the subdued light of the film at the front of the room, illuminating off of an old screen.

Even in total darkness, I feel Ladon appraising my face and trying to read my silent thoughts. He didn’t even have a clue of what I had had a nightmare about. Still, his eye’s observe. Bright pools of ice blue, entwined with my recognizable color of sea green, all just lightly speckled with flecks of chocolate brown and a light hazel. I could gaze at them all day. Instead, I force myself to look elsewhere, but it's torture.

I slump into my own coffee bean-brown seat, laying my head partially on the cool wood and the other part on Ladon’s outstretched arm. His hand holds his chin on my desk and his other arm is folded like a chicken’s wing. He’s staring into space, just like me, pretending he’s listening to the video while being turned from the screen.

I didn’t expect when his folded arm moved, to enfold his large, tender palm over my own meager hand. It was a satisfying warmth.

“Taryn?” he invokes softly.

I look into his humbling eyes and the fatal blow of knowing I’ve been defeated, by his eyes, stings me. “Yeah?” I answer, almost silent. He doesn’t break eye contact as he fumbles over words. “Will you… will you go to the dance with me?” He stutters. The shock of the words stifles me for a moment before I sit up and lean toward his ear. A threatening smile is tugging at the corner of my lips, while his face is a concentrated, serious look. It feels like my whole stomach has burst, letting out millions of colorful butterflies loose in my body.

“Yes.” I say, squeezing his grip and placing a light peck on his cheek.

A relieved laugh broke from his pursed lips and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak.

The bell couldn’t have rung at a better time. I don’t hesitate to dart form my seat and escape the still-darkened classroom before Ladon can say what he wants.

My hardly contained joy bounces off every wall inside my body. I’ve always liked Ladon in many ways, and sometimes I mentally punch myself for being one of those girls who fall in love with their best friends. Except, I wasn’t in love… I couldn’t be.