Stitches

Tenth Stitch

tenth || Simon

Okay, maybe I panicked. Just a little.

When Eddie was touring Perci all over the Newsroom, I figured I wouldn't be able to cut into their conversation anyway—Eddie was loud enough. You couldn't really interrupt him when he's blabbering. Nothing gets him blabbering more than the prized Newsroom. I'm surprised he hasn't explained to Perci each and every award on the trophy case. So I sneak away from them and went to my desk. They probably didn't even notice I'm gone. I hovered close enough though, just in case Perci died from boredom. (You know, so I could catch her, like a knight in shining armor that I am—whatever.)

I sat on my chair with my feet up on the table, and grab my journal from my backpack. It's where I write rough drafts for my Stitches series.

Eddie's still with Perci, and I'm starting to feel a little mad at him. (Not that I'm jealous or anything. Nope.) I'm amazed Perci isn't bored out of her mind. In fact, she seems to actually listen to him, nodding and asking questions every now and then. Eddie gladly blabbered some more.

I'm beginning to feel kind of annoyed here. Half of the school's female population (okay, maybe 1/3) is head over heels for British guys. Never really understood why. And here was Ed, off using his British bloke charm to steal my girl.

Oops, wait a minute. She's not mine. (#selfburn.) (Hey, that could be a good Stitch. I should write that down.)

Eddie and Perci finish their little tour (fucking finally) and he welcomes her to the family.

I honestly was planning on talking to her. I swear. Like, after the tour or something. But then I got cold feet, and chickened out. I told myself, tomorrow, for sure.

But yet again, I chickened out. And the next day. And the next. And the next.

She was right there, right across the room. I'm with her every school day. And I never could gather the guts to do it.

I keep wondering why do I anxiously look for her every time I enter the room but do absolutely nothing when I finally see her I mean what the fuck is wrong with me?

I watched her, hunched over her desk, furiously sketching, eyebrows furrowed.

Sometimes I'd bump into her when we're both on our way to the Newsroom, or on our way out. Like, literally bump into her. (She was always too pre-occupied—and kinda clumsy—she never actually notices her surroundings. She could honestly be right in the middle of the road, with a sixteen-wheeler truck charging towards her, and she probably wouldn't even give a fuck.) Then we'd exchange a few sorry's and excuse me's, and then she'd be on her way again. I watched her walk about, earphones dangling, carrying her books thicker than her arms. Always moving, always hurrying off to somewhere. Where was she going? I wonder. Why can't she sit still?

There's always something going on in that little head of hers. I've always kept on wondering what. What could be so important, so mesmerizing, so distracting, that she can never notice anything else other than that. She never notices her friends. Or her teachers. Or herself. Or the whole fucking world.

Or me.

For the nth time, I see her walk past me towards her desk. There was a blank look in her eyes, like she was thinking about something deep and disturbing. Like world domination. Or kittens. Caught up in her own little world again, I guess.

I don't bother trying anymore. I grab my journal and try to think of a new Stitch, when Eddie comes up to me.

"Simon, do you have a minute?" Eddie says, gesturing to the lounge.

"Sure," I say. We walk to the long table and he sits on the head chair. I take the seat closest to it.

"Hey, man. What's up?" I say.

"It's Perci," he says, eyeing me.

I sit up a bit straighter. "What about her?"

I could've sworn Eddie was biting back a laugh. "What about her? Why, Simon my good man, you tell me. What is it about her?"

"Huh?"

"I see the way you look at her," Eddie grins. "You like her, don't you?"

"What the hell man," I look around nervously. "Your voice is too loud."

"Ha!" he grins wider. "You sure are an obvious bloke—"

"Dude—"

"I really should've known. Your Stitches have been leaning in more and more about her. Stupid of me to not notice earlier—"

"Ed, will you just—"

"Deny it all you want, you're not fooling me anymore—"

"Dude, be quiet—"

"And to think that she's part of Fiat Lux now! You lucky bastard—"

"Seriously Ed, can you just—"

"Would you like me to move her desk closer to you? Who sits next to you, Amy, is it? I'm sure she wouldn't mind if—Hey!" I punch him in the stomach and he gives out a yelp. "Bloody hell, Simon. What was that for?"

"Goddammit, dude," I hiss. "People will hear you."

He laughs at me. "So let them. They might even tell Perci."

I groan, and pull my hair from the roots. "That's the whole fucking point!"

Eddie laughs again. "Listen, Simon. Just talk to her. What's the worst that could happen?"

I frown and run my hands through my hair in frustration. "She could hear me."

"But I still don't get why that's a bad thing."

I groan again.

"Hey, if that's the worst thing that could happen, think of the best thing that could," he says."You and her. Together." He grins and nudges me. "Come on."

"God, Ed. No."

"Come on."

"No."

"I'm assigning you to run facts for me if you don't. Come. On."

I give a frustrated sigh. "Goddammit, Eddie. Fine. I'll go talk to her."

He slaps my back and grabs me into a chokehold. "At'a boy. Go get her."

I slap him away. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't pressure me."

"By the way," he says, expression turning serious. He gives me a stack of documents, "These are our drafts for the newsbits. I'm showing them to Director Lynn tomorrow. Would you mind photocopying these for me?"

"Sure," I say, just to get away from him.

I gather the papers and walk back to the Newsroom—we have our very own photocopy machine there. I open the door and—

"Simon?" Perci says.

Oh hell.

Perci. Perci Barrett is talking to me. Perci, in all her glory, is sitting in my chair so casually as if she belonged there, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

And the most mind blowing thing of all was this—she was flipping through my journal.

Heat pricks my skin.

"You wrote this?" she asks.

I gulp.

* * *

Author's Note: *gasps* Omg plot's finally happening yesyesyesss. Gonna leave you guys with this huge ass cliffhanger until I get more reads tho *tongue emoticon* 

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