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A social klutz and certified bookworm, Autumn Lyne is content with having just books as companions--that is, until her extrovert of a sister drags her out to meet her band. But nobody has expected that this would mark the plot twis...
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For the next two days, Clover went to school looking so un-Clover like. Her air was grim, and she didn't bother to cover up the dark circles under her eyes and fix her hair.
I was upset by what she'd done, but seeing her in such a sad state made me ease up on her. Still, I constantly reminded her to tell Michael the truth.
"Listen, what matters most is how you fix things up. And, who knows? Once he sees your effort and honesty, maybe he'll like you back," I said to her.
She only answered, "Don't get my hopes up."
I thought my power of persuasion was more terrible than I imagined, but then I remembered that a bad-mood Clover was a complete pessimist.
While she took her own sweet time to construct a proper apology, I tried my best to avoid Michael. I didn't even attend their band practice. Westside Creek High School might be a big place, but with its small population of students, there was a huge chance for us to cross each other's way. Sometimes, when I noticed him nearby, I'd grab the nearest thing I could cover myself with and scamper through the crowd away from him. It was crazy.
However, despite my attempts to escape him, I ended up coming face to face with him, thanks to Clint who ambushed me in the hallway. He pretended to talk about Clover, asking why she had been looking down lately. And when I hit him with, "Clint, I know you have a crush on my sister. Just ask her yourself so she'll know that you care about her," he immediately backed off.
"Crush? On her? That's psychotic!" he exclaimed in panic. "Dude, I'm out. This is a bad idea."
And that was when I knew the whole conversation was a setup.
I felt like a toothpaste tube that had been squeezed as I turned around and saw Michael.
"Wow. You scared him away. You're quite dangerous," he remarked, staring at his friend who bounced away into the distance.
I scowled at the towering guy whose legs were longer than my lifespan. "I can't believe you guys ambushed me."
Michael shrugged, shifting his gaze to the floor. "Had to. You seem to be avoiding me. Did I... do something that upset you?"
"Oh," I said. His worry sounded genuine, and I was taken aback that he thought that way. "No, you didn't. It's just... I have a lot of places to go," I said, feeling more and more terrible with every lie.
"But why didn't you text back when I asked you something?" he inquired.
"I... dropped my phone in the toilet," I spoke the alibi I had rehearsed a few hours ago, "and I'm having trouble turning it on right now." Gritting my teeth in fake dismay, I wrapped up my speech with, "It sucks."
"Huh." Michael only stared at me for a minute before saying, "Okay."
He didn't believe me. Obviously. My acting skills were subpar.
