lucidity | shyland ✓

three

chapter three

an: don't hate me if this is too fast paced, don't forget to vote and comment because every one helps my book climb the charts!

'jesus, ryland! you've been spaced out all day and you're meant to be helping me with this!' loren exclaimed angrily, making a few people turn around and stare at her. i glanced at the handful of math equations which she'd carefully drawn on the squared paper in front of her and blinked mildly, shrugging.

we'd decided – and by "we" i mean she — to catch up on homework in the library at lunch today, and all i could think of was the dream i'd had last night. the boy had messy auburn hair, i remember, and his eyes were blue, much like the sea. for some reason, i felt this surge of adrenaline as he spoke to me, some kind of positive anxiety flooding my veins.

shaking my head, i mentally reminded myself that i was being completely and utterly insane. he wasn't even a real life person, as far as i'm aware, so why was i getting so worked up over a stupid, sick dream in which my heart had fluttered for a boy.

a boy.

this was wrong. very wrong. i had reminded myself of this all day, particularly when i passed garrett and drew, accompanied by those two british transfer students who seemed to be glued at the hip. the blonde had raised an eyebrow at me as i walked past, almost threatening me to say something about them, but i kept my head ducked and didn't respond. i think his expression softened after i did so, but i couldn't be sure. i was already half way down the hall.

a cough made me look up, eyes widening as loren slammed her textbook onto the table. 'ryland! you know what, i actually can't deal with you right now!' she spat, grabbing her bag and stalking out the library. i sighed, rubbing my temples with my thumb and forefinger, ignoring everyone's stares. why did she have to be so much effort? it was like a full time job.

'no, drew, do not go over there.' someone hissed, and i instantly jerked my head up to see both garrett and his long haired friend hovering by the bookshelves. 'people like you and i do not mix with boys like him.'

despite wanting to squeal my chair back and get up in garrett's face, demand why exactly it was that he couldn't mix with me, but there was no point. i already knew, as did the whole school. society is so god damn stereotypical, and maybe that's why talking – well, dreaming – of shane had felt so abnormal to me.

from just one glance at him, i knew that he was not wealthy, nor did he come from a well respected family. if my parents caught me wearing basket ball shorts and a t shirt at starbucks, or any place that was not sport related, they would kill me. our family name was so well polished that perhaps it was starting to crack. morgan was rebelling. i had a weird dream about a boy.

'but... he looks–' drew began softly, stopping when our eyes connected. garrett gave me a distasteful look, grabbing the boy by his wrist and pulling him out the library.

after what seemed like only a minute of looking aimlessly at the table, the lunch bell rang and fifth period was about to start. with one more sigh, i swung my satchel over my shoulder and smiled as everyone greeted me in the hallway. different people slapped my shoulder in acknowledgement, or said "hi" whilst walking past me. i didn't really know any of them that well, but i still grinned back.

must keep up the family reputation, as my dad says. i've always been the golden boy, the popular one who everyone wants to be friends with. i was the star in the nativity play, and got to wear this huge glittering costume for two hours every night, all week. i was in my element, prancing around on stage at only six years old. i adored it, every one looking up at me as i declared the way to find baby jesus. in reality, the christian story – which i now cherish – was not that important to me as an infant. all i cared about was the fact that my face was painted yellow and shining, and that afterwards i would get the choc ice i'd been lusting after all evening.