I'm Not That Girl

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

       “Paterson!” someone said as I walked into class. I didn’t turn to see who it was and just high fived their already extended hand. Then, unexpectantly, the hand took mine and prevented me from walking over to my normal seat. It was AP Social Studies, which was easy for me, so I usually sat in the back and zone out. It was also the last class of the day, so I was tired. I quickly looked at the hand and soon realized it belonged to Nick.

       “Ross,” I said, taking the seat next to him.

       Since the kiss between us on Saturday night, things had been relatively normal. Neither of us had wanted to bring it up, so we avoided the topic entirely. I was done with Ryan, and I didn’t intend on ever talking to him again. I had an encounter with him, and John had to step in, telling him to back off. I complained saying that I could take care of myself, but John had to be the “gentleman” and help. John, John, John, what are we ever going to do with you?

       Phillip had been captured by Jillian, who woudn’t let him out of her sight. She hugged and held his hand whenever given the chance. I hadn’t talked, or seen much of him lately because of Gina and Jillian, but it was okay. Gina actually did have to get another nose job because of the impact of Jillian’s punch. I commended Jillian on her job well done, and she laughed.

       “We need to talk,” Nick said abruptly as the teacher at the front of the room lectured us about the nomadic tribes.

       “No,” I said, doodling a spiral in my notebook.

       “Elle, look at me,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, trying to avoid eye contact.

       “No,” I said again, going back to my doodle.

       “Elle, please. After school we’re talking.”

       “No,” I repeated.

       “You don’t have an option.”

       “Yeah, I do. Nick, I don’t feel like talking,” I said quietly, hoping that the teacher wouldn’t hear us.

       “You are right now,” he countered.

       “Whatever,” I said, staring intensely on my task at hand: drawing a tree.

       After class, I grabbed my bag from my locker, and bolted for my car. Surprisingly, Nick wasn’t following me. I guessed that he had given up on whatever he had wanted to say.

       When I got home, Jordan was already there with a blonde girl that I sort of recognized.

       “Amy?” I asked as I passed them in the kitchen.

       “Yeah!” she said.

       “Jord, I’m in my room, don’t wreck the house, and don’t open the door for strangers,” I said.

       “Oh, come on! I only did that once!” he said, spraying whipped cream into Amy’s mouth. Gross.

       I went to my room, put in my headphones, and started my homework. I was in the middle of writing an essay about my favorite form of poetry when I heard the doorbell ring.

       “Got it!” I heard Jordan yell. “Elle! It’s for you! Some seventy year old man said you promised to wash his back for him!”

       I ignored him and slowly went downstairs. Standing at my door was not a seventy year old man, but rather a very attractive sixteen year old boy, who went by the name of Nick Ross. So maybe Nick wasn’t giving up so easily...