Beautifully Broken (in editing)

Chapter 3

The school day dragged  by slower than usual, and I was getting a little antsy. Usually I can distract myself with doodling or reading and the teachers mostly leave me be, but today I was actually hoping they might pay me a little bit of attention, just to give me something to do. 

I was still thinking about that boy. Everytime I replayed the scene from this morning in my head I wanted to kick myself. I prayed that I wouldn't run into those green eyes again as I made my way through the halls that day.

I entered the room as early as always and took a seat in the back of the room, settling in for the last class of the day. 90 minutes of hell, or as I like to call it, A.P. Calculus.

I was the first one in the room, so I went ahead and hauled out my sketchbook, flipping it to a blank page. I loved a fresh, blank white piece of thick drawing paper. The tip of my pencil hovered over the page as I tried to drag out an idea to fill it with.

My eyelids felt heavy and the white page blurred in front of me. I shook my head, glancing up. The room was barely half full. I had time to rest my eyes for a few minutes. Just a few. I slowly let them drift shut, almost instantly lulled into sleep.

"Hey, class is about to start." A deep voice whispered in my ear.

I swear I must have jumped two feet out of my seat. My eyes flew open and I gasped, my heart skipping a beat or two. I was instantly awake. I pressed my hand to my chest, telling my heart to take it down a notch.

My eyes caught the glance of Mrs. Harring, the monotone beast of a woman that dealt with the demons of math. She shot my a glare, and began preparing for class. She'd caught me sleeping.

Great, now she'll be out to get me for the next hour and a half because she's 40, single, and has an unfulfilling job. Just wonderful.

"Thanks." I muttered quietly, turning to the owner of the voice. Holy crap. The boy from the hall was sitting next to me. My breath caught and I stared at him in amazement. He was half-smiling, and his hair was even messier than it was this morning. I sort of just wanted to run my fingers through it.

Come on brain, now is not the time.

"Whoa! Hey, I didn't know you were in this class." He laughed a little and I nodded slowly, confused myself.  I may not pay attention to the people around me, but i think i would remember if he was in my class. He studied me curiously and i could feel my cheeks heating under his gaze.

"You're not really a talker huh?" he teased, that little half-smile back in place. I hated to admit it, but he was kind of cute. In an endearing way.

"I guess not." I replied. He seemed harmless enough, so I decided he deserved an answer. He was the first person who'd attempted talking to me, so I might as well participate, even if it only was for a little while.

"Oh, yeah! I meant to say sorry for bumping into you in the hall. I didn't mean to scare you." Oh God, he remembered. I felt my cheeks heating up again, and I shook my head.

"It's no big deal." I replied, trying to brush off the embarrasment. He nodded and looked like he was going to say something else but Mrs Herring cleared her throat loudly and began another one of her excruciatingly boring lecture.

I wasn't quite listening though. It was hard to concentrate with someone sitting so close to me. I could hear his soft breathing and his huffs and sighs. I peeked up at him through my hair and watched his face furrow deeper and deeper with concentration.

Finally, he smacked his pencil down on the desk.

"I don't get this at all. I'm hopeless." He whispered, frustration obvious in his voice. I tried not to laugh, watching the teacher closely. I knew she couldn't really see us back here, but I wasn't too keen on being called out in the middle of class. Attention wasn't really my thing.