Prove It

Chapter XVIII

I ring the doorbell to his house and I instantly hear his dog barking through the door. I wait a few steps away from the entrance before the door opens, but instead of Marcus his sister, Kendall is standing there holding the black labrador back.

"Hi Amanda, Marcus is in his room" she says politely, looking up, but past my face.

"Thanks" I answer nodding. I've never really spoken to her before, and something tells me nothing will change for quite a while. Whenever I see her in school she's so shy, looking at the ground in the hallway, sitting with the same two girls alone at lunch. Maybe some day we'll become closer, but I think there's too much distance between us to build any sort of friendship right now. A lot of people I find have a hard time approaching me, and I'm not sure why. I certainly don't try to look standoff-ish, so I can't think of a good reason. Nevertheless, I have to take baby steps with her.

I walk up the stairs and to the room we were in the night of the party. This time with no one around, I take more time to admire the decor upstairs. Their house still sterile as ever, the vases match the carpets, and the golden door handles complement the dark blue backgrounds of the walls. I thought the downstairs had a lot of pictures, but the upper level has at least one frame between every doorframe on either side, alternating between Kendall and Marcus in age order.

The door is closed, and I knock hesitantly on the wood. "It's open!" he calls from the inside. I put my hand on the cold knob, and push open the door, to his still clean room. Everything is where I remember it except for a stray towel resting on the desk chair.

My eyes wander to his bed where Marcus is currently laying on his back with a Mac in his lap with a blank document open and phone in his hand with a game playing on it. I roll my eyes. Boys.

His eyes quickly shift from the screen to the doorway where I'm standing awkwardly. "Hi Manda. Uh, you can sit here" he says, patting the open spot next to him. I walk over to the bed and set my backpack down near the foot of the mattress to sit right beside him.

"What'cha working on?" I ask, looking onto his blank screen with no title at the top. His name isn't even on it yet.

"My history paper. It's not due until tomrrow during class, so I still have another twelve hours to finish it" he explains, turning back to his game.

"Marcus you can't do that" I scold him, lowering the phone in his hands.

"Yes I can. I do it all the time. Mr. Marlow looks at the paper for the word count and gives you a one hundred if it fits the requirement. Trust me, it's no big deal" he insists, bringing the phone back up to his face.

I push it back down. "Come on, you have the computer open, just do it now. If it's only gonna take you an hour there's no sense in not doing it now." He looks at me, but I look at him with, I'm hoping, a more intimidating face. He relents and turns his phone off and begins to type on his computer.

I reach for my own binder, but as soon as his typing began it stopped with him groaning and rubbing his hands over his face in frustration.

"What is it?" I ask. I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.

"How am I supposed to write a paper on why gerrymandering should or shouldn't still be in place if I don't even know what it is?" he whines. "I don't even know how it relates to voting."

"Don't you have the textbook?" I know for a fact that they all got a textbook at the beginning of the year. Jayda's in his class, and all she does is complain about how heavy the thing is.

"I leave it in my locker. I never use it anyway" he answers, and I almost face palm my own forehead.

"And don't you think that correlates to why you don't know any of this stuff?" I question. I know he doesn't like this class, or really any other class but biology, but that doesn't mean he can blow off all his other studies.

"Manda I just can't stand that class. Everyone in it, all they do is argue. It's such a confrontational class, and all people do is talk out of their asses."

I stroke his hair, something that appears to relax him as he closes his eyes softly and leans his head back into my hand. "It's only eight monthts. It's too late to switch classes and you need the credit to graduate. You're just gonna have to suck it up." I take my hand away from his hair and being flipping through my calculus textbook to look up the homework for the night.

"No, keep doing that" he whines, cracking one eye open to look at me. I smirk at him and go back to my work. He might not want to do any, but I'm not letting my grade suffer because of his laziness.

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll do my work" he sighs, finally beginning to pound out his essay. I smile at my small victory, and take notes on what motivates him most. One being inscentives, and another being the silent treatment, one that I must use sparingly.

Almost forty-five minutes later, I am reading Pride and Prejudice for my English class and I stop hearing the sound of typing from the keyboard and feel his arm wrap around my waist and his face on my shoulder.

"You almost finished?" he murmurs in my ear.

"Mhmm" I respond, the blush on my cheeks rising to the surface. His face so close to mine is making me both nervous and excited, especially after my conversation with Sofia yesterday.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers, pecking my temple lightly. I did it, I swooned, openly and without embarrrassment. Doing something like that, he deserves to know what he does to me.

"Thanks" I say shyly, as our faces become even closer than before, and now we're nose to nose.

"I mean it. You're perfect. Everything about you. God I'm so lucky." Each statement he says is more quiet than the next. His large hand raises to my cheek, stroking it ever so gently. I don't think I'll ever not melt when he does that.

"You're pretty great, too" I respond lamely. I feel stupid for not thinking of something more sentimental to say, but I'm a little speechless after his sweet words.

A moment of silence rifts between us, but our eyes don't leave each other's. His other hand comes up to my arm, lightly grabbing it.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, his light eyes never straying from mine.

My breath catches in my throat, and I nod, not finding my voice.

His face only leans in another millimeter and our lips touch and our eyes close when we kiss for the first time. It's one of the most innocent kisses I've ever had, but at the same time the most intimate one I've experienced. Kissing him is one of the lovliest feelings I've ever felt.

His hands stay on my cheek and behind my back, never straying from their positions. His lips are so soft, his hands are so delicate and there's no place I'd rather be.

We pull away from each other, our breathing heavy, despite the soft kiss. I swallow hard from the intense feelings and he tilts my head down to plant a small kiss on my forehead.

No words were spoken, but there wasn't anything that needed to be said when we cuddled for the rest of our time together in each other's arms.