Love Is Not My Forte

CHAPTER 4

Hey, readers! Sorry about the wait for this chapter, but I'm still dealing with a lot of other complicated life things. Plus, I had a really bad writer's block as I tried to figure out what direction I wanted this story to go in. So I hope you enjoy this (yet again) short chapter and I look forward to any comments and feedback I get. Cheers, Nicole <3

        A couple of hours later, almost everyone has turned in early for their morning classes leaving Callie and I alone. Both of us are familiar with staying up late since our classes don’t start until late afternoon. We had quit playing Bananagrams a while ago and had taken to quietly doing our own activities in the other’s presence. I was working on a story of mine while Callie lay relaxed on my bed with headphones in and a book in her hands. After I finished writing the chapter I was working on, I went over to Callie and waited for her to notice me.

            “Jesus Christ! You scared me!” Clutching her book to her chest, she pulled out her headphones and sat up to face me, “What’s up?”

            “Well, you like reading so I figured you might want to read what I’ve got,” I simply inform her.

            “You’re going to let me read that story? The one about time travel or whatever? I thought you didn’t want anyone to read it until it was finished.”

            “True. But I just finished up the last chapter of the story and you’re the only one here.”

            “Oh, I feel so honored,” she playfully rolls her eyes with a smile, “But yes! I’ve been waiting to read it forever!”

            Her eyes lit up with so much anticipation and excitement that I couldn’t help but smile. With that, I walked over to unplug my laptop and scrolled to the top of the piece of work and turned it over to Callie. She lit up once again after quickly scrolling to see the length and smiled up at me before turning her attention back to the story. Almost immediately her face had scrunched and contorted into the one facial expression she got whenever she read anything. I stood there for a moment to look at her. Furrowed eyebrows, scanning eyes, and a tight grip on her bottom lip signaled that she was engrossed in my story. The amount of focus and concentration was incredible, but I knew it was a bit weird to stand there and watch her read for the entire time, so I eventually made my way back to my desk and started to aimlessly browse through one of my textbooks, waiting for Callie to finish.

            Finally, after about half an hour, I hear Callie shut my laptop. I look over at her to see her reaction, but she’s not looking back. Instead, she’s set her gaze upon the blank wall across from my bed. Her face is neutral, but her eyes give away that she had been tearing up and is now zoning out. I tentatively rise from my chair and take a step towards her before she slowly turns her head my way, smiling with dried salt streaks on her cheeks.

            “Are you okay?” I ask her quizzically, utterly confused.

            “Yeah. I’m fine,” she sniffles while wiping her cheeks, “your story is just so beautiful. I had no idea you could write like that. It’s beautiful. Really.”

            “Glad you liked it. But I didn’t think it was that great,” I shrug off her compliments, but smile gently to let her know I’m still flattered.

            “It was so good. You make the reader get so invested in the setting and the characters and their lives. And the ending is so bittersweet that it hurts to love it. In a good way, I mean.”

            “Callie, that doesn’t even make sense,” I laugh lightly at her nonsense, “for an honors student, you’re not very good at using words.”

            “Oh, shut up. You made me read a heartbreakingly beautiful story about companionship and hopes and dreams….and love.”

            There’s a slight pause in conversation. Not only because I couldn’t think of a way to respond to Callie, but also because as that last word crossed her lips, there seemed to be a shift in the room as the both of us just looked at each other. I thought I was just overthinking it because of my feelings for her, but as the pause continued, I could clearly see that Callie was looking at me differently than she normally did. I open my mouth to say something—I’m not yet sure what, but I feel like something needs to be said—before she snaps out of whatever just happened.

            “Well, thanks for letting me look at your story. Honestly, it was one of the best things I’ve ever read,” she hands me my laptop, jumping off my bed to gather her bag and slip on her shoes, “But it’s getting late and I’ve got to get to bed at some point tonight.”

            “Yeah, of course. I should probably think about getting to sleep soon, too,” I reply.

            “Ok, cool. So I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch,” she says.

            Before leaving my room, she gives me a hug as per the usual. But this hug isn’t filled with the same amount of energy as all of the other ones have had. Instead, this one is short and she lets go, giving me an awkward smile on her way out. I’m not too sure what just happened, but I stand there hoping that it all passes over by tomorrow.