Under the Bridge

chapter four- "THIS IS NOT A DRILL, PEOPLE!"

THE SECOND DAY OF HALLOWEEK is always the best. This year is no exception. I postponed my study plans with James to this afternoon, which meant that I get to channel my excitement into something productive. It's kind of hard to study with him to be honest, since I'm always getting distracted by his face. I usually do more English work outside our weekly sessions than inside. 

Right now, I'm at my locker, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and shoving my hands into my pockets, letting a deep, nervous, sigh escape my lips. Liam is on the other side of the hallway, laughing with his friends. He notices me looking at him and starts glaring. 

I didn't do anything to him, and he still hates me. 

To be fair, I kind of hate him too. As much as I love extra credit, I don't love his jerky attitude. He seems to blame everything about the situation on me, as if I'm the one who dropped his grades. Newsflash honey, you're the one who's failing a blow-off math course. If I had the confidence, I'd say that right to his face and flip my hair. 

"Hey." The sound of a voice startles me from behind, and I nearly shriek as I jump back. I turn around and see James, wearing his boyish smile and holding his books. A blush is spreading across my cheeks. He just looks so darn adorable in his new wire-brimmed glasses. 

"Hi." I squeak back, trying desperately to avoid fainting on the ground. 

"Figured I'd walk you to the library since the place is so big it takes forever to find each other each week." He explains with a little shrug. 

I nearly died. Okay, I think I am dead. I'm a ghost now. Nice to meet you, I'm ghost Olivia. I wonder if I can haunt people now. 

As we're walking, I see Hope, talking to one of her teammates. We make eye contact, and she winks, moving her lips and mouthing me a message. "Use protection." 

I ignore her and the blush on my cheeks as we walk to the library, and for a second, his warm arm brushes against mine. I feel my skin tingle and my heart beat out of my chest like one of those cartoons. 

"So what are you doing for Halloween?" He asks as we sit down opposite ends of a plush sofa. 

I feel my hands go all gross and clammy, and I discretely wipe them on my jeans. We never talk about non-school related things. This is a big step. "Oh, nothing really." I lie. I have extravagant plans for the greatest day of the year, as I always do. I don't think he wants to know about how I'm going to watch Harry Potter and say all of Hermoine's lines with the television. "W-What about you?" 

"The soccer team is dragging me to Zeke Palmer's party." He shrugs, referring to the beer-filled, sexy cat, half-naked, party that was thrown every year. "You should come linger by the punch bowl with me." 

My eyes widened. My hands were now covered in so much sweat it was probably visible from a mile away. I dig my nails into my arm to keep myself steady. It hurts, but it keeps my breathing under control. THIS IS NOT A DRILL, PEOPLE! 

"Let me think about it." I say, feeling a sudden deprivation of oxygen. 

* * *

It's been a day since James asked me to attend a party with him. I'm still shook. Hope says I'm frozen in a smile. I keep daydreaming about him whisking me away or kissing me after having intelligent conversation about our opinion of postmodern philosophy. Okay, I might not know anything about "POMO" as he calls it, but it's really hot that he's smart enough to get it.

"Hey, stop staring at the fucking bookshelf and help me with this damn problem Olivia!" My daydream is interrupted by a certain disgusting worm sitting across from me in a leather jacket. At least he knows my name.