Virtual Attraction [COMPLETE]

7| The Subway

The next day, Adam actually showed up in the boiler room. I guessed my speech on the mediate floor had worked on him.

The two of us barely spoke. It was one of the most awkward encounters I'd ever had—almost as bad as the day Brooke, Payton and Khloe had abandoned me.

"Hi," I said.

He didn't answer.

"Look I don't want to be here any more than you do," I said.

"Oh, but you do," he said. "Cause I did the project already, and yet here we are."

"There are other ways to spend some time alone with me."

"Very funny," I retorted, leaning against the edge of the room.

This was going to be a long semester. Thankfully, I only had to work with him once a week.

We didn't speak for the next week's meet up, only working silently side by side. He'd spend most of the period texting on his phone, or typing into his laptop, before finally getting up when the school bell rang to signify the end of the period.

"If you talk to me and help me with the project, I'll leave you alone for the rest of high school."

He looked up at me, as though he'd forgotten I was even in the room.

Studying my face, he sighed. "You're the one who insists on doing this the hard way."

"Adam," I started. "I—

"Fine. What do you know about Shakespeare? John Donne? Christopher Marlowe?" He began bombarding me with questions about English literature and critical theory.

"Um...they're all dead, I presume."

"Where'd you go to school before MDP?"

"Why?" I asked. "So you can judge me?"

Maybe I deserved to be here academically, but it was no secret that I didn't belong here. I'd tested into MDP, but my clothes and my hair—even the perfume I wore, all proved that I wasn't as affluent as the other students here. Where almost everyone here could trace back their roots to some old aristocratic line in England. Me, on the other side? Not English. Not rich. Italian. My mother's side.

"I'm smart enough to be here," I said again. "So don't worry about where I used to go to school."

He was watching me. His eyes were glimmering, in a teasing sort of way.

"Just don't mess with me," I said, watching him firmly as he began roaring with laughter.

"Oh," he said, sobering once he realized I wasn't joking. "You're not joking."

"No," I answered.

"Lighten up," he said. "Don't take yourself that seriously."

"Excuse me?" I was getting angry.

"Hey, hey," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry."

He watched me, then his eyes dropped to my lips quickly and jumped back to my face.

At the same time, I was noticing how beautiful his blue eyes were and admiring the way his blond hair swept across his face.

"Good," I said, clearing my throat, trying to regain my grounding. "Just don't do it again."

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Listen, we don't have to do this. We could just go with the project I already finished."

I watched him closely. "No, Adam. We can't."