Saved

4. Traffic

The principal sent me home early due to my 'outburst'. Walking into my front door and slamming it shut, I made my way into the kitchen.

I don't remember eating at lunch. I talked and listened and thought the entire time.

I remember staring at Paige talking animatedly about the Roman Empire, I thought about how knowledgable she was and how much I wanted to listen to her talk, about anything, forever.

Deciding to make a sandwich, I grabbed the bread and laid it out on the counter. Within 2 minutes I had a double decker BLT stacked on a flower-painted plate and I made my way over to the living room. Flipping the television on, a reality show came on to my screen and I found adult women rambling about shoes and champagne.

I wonder if Paige liked these types of shows. Probably not. I pictured her sitting in a chair in her living room, watching a documentary about global warming or something controversial.

Looking back down at my half eaten sandwich, I suddenly decided that I wasn't hungry anymore. Closing my eyes and leaning my head back, I found my self falling asleep to the sound of women bickering about whose dog was smaller.

I sprung up, sweating in my sleep. Turning up to look at the clock on my oven, I realized that I slept all through the night and into the morning. Shit.

I'd be to school 10 minutes late, no doubt. Running towards my bedroom, I settled on jeans and a t-shirt, lifting it up to my nose just in case.

Pulling them on, I hurried to my bathroom and brushed my teeth as quickly as possible, not bothering to look in the mirror. Rinsing my toothbrush off I ran a hand through my hair and patted it down, knowing it was all over the place.

I grabbed a pop tart from the nearly bare pantry and my keys, heading towards my car.

Starting it up, I didn't bother fiddling with the radio stations and just pulled out of the driveway.

I flew down the highway, silently praying that I don't get pulled over, I made my way onto the campus and into the lot only to find a locked gate in my way. I'd have to go into the front office and come up with an excuse for my tardiness. Parking towards the back of the lot, I made my way to the entrance and came up with my grand excuse: traffic.

Walking to the front desk with my head down, I was preparing my speech on how backed up the traffic was, and how I felt awful about being late, and how it would never happen again.

Looking up from my tattered shoes, blue eyes met mine, soft and kind, and my mind went blank.

"Landon?" Paige smiled at me, her hair was wavy and her cheeks were flushed with blush.

"Uh, hi, Paige, I, um, need, a, uh-" I sputtered out, not able to find the words to say.

"Need a late pass? Is that what you're trying to say?" Paige spoke in her smooth, almost accented voice, smiling up at me with humor.

"Yes, a late pass." I sighed, mentally thanking her for finishing my sentence so I didn't embarrass myself in front of her any further.

"Well technically, I'm supposed to write you up for being late, but I'll give you an excused pass. You seem a little frazzled and," she leans across the desk to whisper in my ear, and I shivered at her closeness, "your shirt is on backwards." She looks up at me after pulling away, eyes shining in the fluorescent lights.

Looking down in disbelief, I found that my shirt, was indeed, on backwards.

Her hand stuck out to hand me a little sheet of paper after she signed and stamped it. It read: EXCUSED: LANDON COLLINS DOCTORS APPT, towards the bottom was her perfect, neat signature: Paige Moore.

I lightly pulled it from her hand, willing for our fingers not to touch. I opened my mouth to ask where the bathroom was, but I was interrupted.

"Down the hall to the left, third door." She said, unaware that she just read my mind.

"Thank you Paige." I said, holding the paper in my sweaty hands, heading in the direction of the third door on the left.

After fixing my wardrobe mistake, I head to gym, slipping in through the back door, taking a seat on the bleachers, hoping nobody notices me.

The class seems to drag on forever. All I can think about is getting to the next one so I can see Paige again. She sits in the front of the room so I won't be able to talk to her, but at least I can admire the way her hair swings back and fourth in the flow of the air conditioning.

Finally the bell rings and I hurriedly get to my history class. I stop in my tracks as I walk into the door way. Paige is turned away from the door, leaning down to pull her long hair into a hair tie, leaving me starting at her backside.

I very rarely think of Paige in, you know, that way. But the way she was bent right now made it very hard to keep my thoughts G-rated.

"Um excuse me," a small voice peeped up beside me, trying to get around me. I became so lost in thought I hadn't realized I was blocking the doorway.

"Yeah, sorry, uh," I didn't know what to say, so I side stepped out of the way, allowing a stream of people into the classroom. The seats began filling up so I headed towards the back to claim mine.

When I got there, a backpack was in the seat beside mine. I don't want to sit next to anybody. Looking up from the polka dot back pack in confusion, I spotted Paige.

"Hey Paige, do you know who's backpack this is?" I ask, hoping she knew, she knows everybody.

"It's mine, silly," She laughs, standing above me, "the girl that sits next to me never stops talking, and the only other empty seat was the one next to you. I can move if it's not okay." She mumbled, looking down at her shoes.

I'm half excited that she will be sitting next to me. But I also begin to wonder that if there were any other seats in the room, would she have chosen to sit in the one next to me?

"Alright class, let's take our seats and begin the lesson for today." Ms. Wright walks in and sets her bag down on his desk.

Paige looks down at me for conformation and I nod towards the seat. Smiling she walks over beside me, grabs her backpack and pulls out two sheets of paper and two pens- one for me and one for her.

Sliding it over to me in the most innocent way, out fingers meet and my skin ignites. Her eyes meet mine and I can tell that she feels the same.

Neither one of us made a move to part our fingers until the lights went off and the PowerPoint began. Quickly uncapping her pen, she starts feverishly scribbling down notes onto the paper. Looking up from her to the screen, I do the same.