Falling for the Player

Chapter 18- There is No Way This is Purely Platonic

Every once in awhile, the weather in East Valley takes a turn for the better. About once a season, we get a day without unpredictable pellets of rain, a gloomy, overcast sky, foreboding fog, or harsh winds. Friday was one of those days. I woke up to a stream of sunlight spilling through my window and birds chirping pleasantly outside. The grass was green and dewy, little drops of water resting on the vibrant blades and sparkling under the light of the sun.

I showered and dressed quickly, deciding it was a good day for a dress rather than my usual attire. I slipped a blue sundress over my head and then studied myself in my floor length mirror. Even I had to admit, I looked good. My usually fluffy hair had decided to behave for once and cascaded smoothly past my shoulders. My dress was flowy and stopped just above my knees, subtly showing off my legs. I gave myself a satisfied nod and then turned to check my phone. A text from Margo was glowing on the screen.

Wanna walk to school?

I agreed quickly and then headed down to the street corner to meet my best friend.

"Decided to ditch the jeans?" she asked as I approached her, smiling as she spoke.

"Yep," I replied, "I wanted to change it up."

"Well, you look good," she complimented.

We began to walk, for once not attempting to combat a downpour of rain. It was relaxing to talk to Margo, she always had a way of making me forget my problems. She blabbered about Lamar the whole way to school, giving me an in depth run down of their last encounter. We reached the front lawns of the school with plenty of time to spare, the first bell not scheduled to ring for another 30 minutes.

"I think I'm going to head to the newsroom," I said to Margo as we walked through the front doors, "I have an article to submit."

I dropped off my bag at my locker and then navigated the labyrinth of hallways to the journalism club classroom. Mr. Brown was leaning back in his swivel chair, his feet propped up on his desk. His thick-rimmed glasses rested on the tip of his nose and his vision was focused on the newspaper in his hands.

"Morning, Mr. Brown," I greeted as I entered the room.

"Elaine!" he said, sitting up, "Just the person I was hoping to see."

I smiled, despite the fact that I absolutely hated when people called me Elaine, and  placed my article about the dance team in the metal bin on his desk.

"I have a huge favor to ask of you," Mr. Brown said, taking off his reading glasses and placing them in one of the desk drawers.

"Stephen, you know, the junior that shows up occasionally, was supposed to write an article about the Biology trip," he started.

I groaned internally, knowing where this was going.

"He, however, failed to complete said article. I'm afraid we are now one story short," He said, "I was hoping that you could whip up something about the trip. You were there, after all."

"Of course," I said, though imagining sprinting away from Mr. Brown in my head, "When do you need it by?"

"We're running the presses at the end of the day,"he said, "Do what you can in that time."

"No problem, Mr. B," I said flatly, giving him a sarcastic salute and walking out of the classroom.

Way to ruin a perfect day, Mr. Brown.
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"This is hopeless!" I exclaimed to Lamar as we walked down the hall together, "I can't possibly type that fast! How does Mr. Brown expect me to get this article done."