Trying to live #Wattys2024

Chapter 7 (Edited)

I smiled and sat down next to Henry. I know, I know. I wasn't thrilled about sitting next to him, but I couldn't sit next to Franny and I definitely didn't want to be close to Scott—not after the library talk. I could talk to him, but I wasn't ready to acknowledge that he didn't defend himself.

"So, what's up?" I asked, only to receive stares as an answer, except from Wyatt. He smiled.

Was it really so hard to talk to me? I mean, I tried too. I mean talking to them, not to myself, because I did that really often.

"Nothing," Wyatt said, sounding bored, which he might have been, considering their conversation was about boring stuff. "We're waiting for—"

"I saw Mary Badinski in the washroom. Can you believe that?" a voice interrupted. A voice I knew very well.

Leah Sanders walked towards us with all her glory. Leah was gorgeous with her dark complexion and dark hair. At school, they called her the young "Naomi Campbell"—a nickname she was proud of.

Since no one answered, I took the initiative. "Uhm, yes. She goes to our school," I said, obviously. I wanted to add "Duh," but I remembered I wasn't a "Duh" person.

Leah plopped down in the seat next to mine. So that was her seat. Wait, then whose seat was I sitting in? "Eww, what are you doing here?"

Leah looked at me like I was a walking disease. But that wasn't anything new because her friends looked at me the same way too. "Relaxing."

She glared at me but then focused on her drink. "That's not what I wanted," she stated.

"Yeah, well, I gave you the drinks you always order," I said, sounding bored because I felt bored.

"Stalker much?" Leah asked, examining her long manicured nails.

"Not really. It's called 'knowing what your daily customer wants to drink,'" I smirked. "Besides, poor Priya was near a meltdown. There was a queue behind her—an angry, sighing, shoe-tapping mob of customers. The only thing missing was the screaming."

Priya gave me a sour look. "Thanks for the glorious details no one wanted."

"You're welcome," I grinned and winked at her.

And once again, silence followed until Juliette broke it. "I'm hungry. Let's look at the menu," she said to Henry.

Well, fine, she wasn't talking to me but to Henry, and when she talked to him, her face softened. But who cares? I mean, my face softens when I see puppies, and no one cares about that. So, obviously, I didn't care about her or Henry. I leaned over to him to get a better look at the menu even though I knew it by heart.

At first, he didn't acknowledge me because his focus was solely on Juliette. So I stared at him. Henry was far too handsome for this world. Who could be that handsome and not be an alien?

He had the perfect face to be a model or an actor, even if it sounded cliché. His face was strong and defined, with a prominent jaw, razor-sharp cheekbones, and the most beautiful green eyes he inherited from the famous Lakewood line. The Avillas were known for their looks—I swear they were like characters out of a book—probably because they were related to royal blood, as in with Andrew van Lakewood. The only thing we had in common was that we both had dimples. I had two (well, my left one was more prominent than my right one, but the right one existed), and he had one on his left cheek.

He sensed me. I felt it when I saw his whole body stiffen and his shoulders tense. Geez, I wasn't some murder on the run. I quickly averted my gaze to the menu, trying to decipher what Juliette decided to eat. What? I admit that I didn't listen to one word she said.