Chasing a Broken Butterfly

Chapter 6:

By the time I reach my English class, I am beyond exhausted. I was awakened around 3 am by the blinding backyard lights which made it difficult for me to fall back to sleep. Lacey had fallen asleep beside my bed instead of on her mat, which was really odd behavior for her, but I figured maybe she wasn't feeling all too well. I also guessed that since she appeared undisturbed, that it was probably another stupid squirrel passing in the backyard again setting off the porch light so damn late at night. Either way, I still lost sleep. Beauty sleep.

I smirk at my little joke. I know I'm not Sleeping Beauty...which I suppose in my odd humor, it amuses me.

I'm sitting at the front of the room with my arms crossed on the desk and my head laying down. Normally I do this to avoid conversation with anyone, but today I sincerely am tired. My mind starts interrupting my drowsy state with thoughts of Nathan. I don't know why I desperately want his approval of me, but I do. I don't care about anyone else's opinion of me at school...I don't know why he'd be any different.

I guess I must be really out of it than I thought, because I don't notice Nathan walk in and sit down right behind me. It's not until I feel someone poking me with a pencil on my shoulder that I tense up and feel suddenly wide awake.

Usually when someone pokes me it's because they've already tried countless times to call my name with no success. I know this from past experiences...

When I look down in between the crack made from my bent elbow and the open space below, I see black leather boots poking out from under my seat and I already know it's Nathan. How I know what kind of shoes he wears is beyond me...I barely know what shoes my mom wears. I do a mini prayer that he hasn't tried calling my name before I pick up my head and turn around.

When I look at him he stares at me and holds my gaze for what feels like several minutes before he looks down and another few minutes before my eyes follow his. There's a scrap of paper folded neatly with my name on top. I give him a questioning look before I grab it and turn back around to read it. I want to read it alone. without his eyes penetrating me as if they're made of lasers. I'm already feeling peer pressured, so I don't need to see his reaction as I read it.

His hands grab my shoulders from behind and gently tug so I can turn back around to face him.

"In front of me" he commands.

Why is he so bossy? That's kind of rude. But I don't ask any further questions and immediately open the paper up. I just want to know what's inside. I've kind of always been a bit of a sucker for surprises.

In the neatest handwriting I've ever seen for a guy, is a simple sentence:

You looked nice last night

I'm dumbfounded at the way something so simple could also make me feel even the slightest bit elated. I don't think I've ever felt this weird fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach before...it's unfamiliar...I've stepped into the unknown...I don't like it. I like being in my warm cocoon. But at the same time I can't help but feel like it's stupid. how can I feel two things at once? These feelings counteract the other...I don't think that's possible.

I look back up at him with the intention of telling him that it was flattering, but to not do it again. Instead, my whole demeanor melts when I see what looks like a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

Is he nervous? Why would he be nervous? I don't want to see him nervous...what can I do to make him smile? I feel as if a thousand rockets have suddenly exploded in my head in a vain attempt to come up with something to make him smile.

I end up muttering a thank you and muster a small smile. He makes me nervous. I guess we both have one thing in common...

My thoughts trail off as I am caught up once again in his enchanting green eyes.

"Today too..." He admits and smiles back at me.

Today too? Wait, what's he talking about? Did I miss something? I'm temporarily confused until I look down at the letter and it dawns on me. He's complimenting me yet again. My smile deepens and I feel my heart beat rise slightly.

"You're not so bad yourself today too. Nice touch with the boots." I raise my eyebrows at him in a way that I believe to be mysteriously seductive before turning around in my seat as the teacher walks in carrying a bulging old leather case. I was able to see a twinkle of a smile tug at his eyes before I directed my attention fully to the class.

Making him smile, even for the slightest or stupidest thing makes me feel light and airy. I guess that's the whole "floating on cloud nine" thing. I could live with that...this feeling. It's nice.

When the bell rings and class is out for lunch, I'm unsure of what to do. Should I stay behind and wait for Nathan? And what? Have lunch together? Are we friends now all of a sudden? He only complimented me (twice if anyone is counting)...that doesn't mean we're best friends all of a sudden. But it does mean we are on good terms...right? Especially considering the way he darted out the door last night at Mikey's place.

I know I'm over analyzing this and by the time I switch back to reality I realize that Nathan is halfway out the door.

I jog over next to him and he looks sideways at me.

"H-Hey," I say stammer.

"Hey" he replies and continues walking.

I don't know how to take his reply, but I assume to keep talking since he hasn't already shrugged me off.

"I was thinking..." I start off, "that maybe you'd like to hang out with me and Mikey at lunch. Maybe even give you a personal tour of the wonderful campus?" I suggest to him, hoping he can't detect the high levels of hope and anxiety that have suddenly overtaken me at the idea of it.

With that, Nathan stops dead in his tracks and looks down at me quizzically before abruptly stating, "No. No thank you," and walks off down the hallway.

But...didn't he just hand me a note with a compliment? That did happen right?

I take the note out to reaffirm my sanity, and sure enough it's there in my back pocket. I'm not crazy. He is. He's the one that gave it to me and then just stormed right off, batting away my friendship as if I were an annoying fly.

But why would he do that to me? Why would he pretend he didn't care?

Because he's a douchebag, I tell myself. It doesn't add up, but it's the only answer I have. Whatever, I can do without him.

I try to forget about it for the rest of the day, but it's all that occupies my thoughts...HE occupies my thoughts...

And I'm not sure how to feel about it.