He's a Fanboy?!

I push the double doors open and fast-walk to my favourite place on campus before someone like Callie interrupts me again.

Running through the halls like a mad dog, I catch glimpses of teachers in their classrooms.

Most of them send me dirty glares, but my English teacher, Mr. James, smiles as he knows exactly where I'm headed.

I slow down enough to smile back and give my favourite teacher a little wave, but then continue sprinting across campus.

I accidentally hit somebody in the shoulder--A blondie from my English class, Luke, I think--but I'm making my way to the library, can you blame me?

Both of us stumble back and I end up on the floor.

At first I think he's going to help me up, but he simply picks his glasses up and acknowledges me with a small nod and a blank expression.

"Slow down, Annabelle." Everyone knows everyone in this school, so it isn't weird for him to know my name.

"Sorry," I apologize, but Luke the Blondie is already walking away before I get up.

I don't know whether to classify that as rude or not, but suddenly I don't care as I remember that I have limited time.

I continue making my way, but I slow down a bit to ensure that I don't bump into another person. I've wasted enough time.

When I finally reach the library's giant glass doors, I eagerly push them open with fifteen minutes to get in and out.

The doors close suddenly, making every faint sound from the cafeteria disappear. I am immediately calmed, swiftly taking quiet little steps instead of running through the halls.

I take a long breath, taking in the wonderful smell of paper pages full of stories from all over the world.

It's amazing, really, how much power words can have. Things like, "I love you," or, "They're dead," or, "They found it."

And then writers make it even more amazing. They take scenes from their heads and write down a character's feelings and their story. In words.

Words that are even more powerful than a simple, "I love you." They can use words that dig into your heart and make you feel the love or the pain or the sorrow or the happiness.

They can say things, like, "I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you," and make you feel it. I'll never be able to explain it precisely, but it's that little stab in your chest when words seem to pierce through your soul.

These feelings, these emotions--you learn from them. Reading Divergent taught me it's okay to be different. Reading The Hunger Games taught me to stand up for what I believe in. I could go on forever.

This is one of the reasons. This is one of the reasons I tip-toe on this maroon carpet, searching for more and more words everyday.

As I walk through the hushed library, my floral converse lightly tapping against the carpet, it feels somewhat different. As if someone is actually.... here.

But that's not possible. Nobody visits our school library. Not even the librarian visits the library. She just drinks coffee around the teacher's lounge, flirting with Mr. James (Although, admittedly, he's pretty hot.)

I try to ignore it and make a beeline for the Young Adult section.

As I search the shelves for something interesting, my fingers softly caress some of my favourite books, as always. Amazing books like The Hunger Games and The Fault in Our Stars.

I pick up The Scorch Trials by James Dashner and carefully place it in my bag, as well as Maximum Ride by James Patterson, because a fellow fangirl I had been talking to online last night said it was good.

My hand is on Divergent when I see him. A tall boy with a plaid button-up shirt is reading. In the library. Just down the aisle, a head with a mop of chocolate brown hair is very absorbed in The Fault in our Stars.

So very absorbed that he does not notice me take the seat across from him.

In all my years of experience, not once have I come across another human being at StarCross High's library.

So naturally, I take this chance to observe him. Don't even try to judge me; you know you would too.

His skin isn't pale, but it isn't exactly dark. He's wearing dark blue jeans and red un-buttoned shirt with a white tee underneath. It's got a black design that I can't quite see behind the book and the table.

I can't tell who he is, as his face is hidden behind TFIOS.

I am debating on whether or not I should say something when his knee suddenly begins to bounce. I can ever so slightly see the crease in his forehead; the only part of his face I can see, and he begins to jump a little in his seat. He then begins squealing--"Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!--and I realize immediately what is happening.

This boy is fanboying.

The next instant is fast. He snaps the book closed--something I, too, have a habit of doing so that I can calm my fangirl feels--and finally notices me within a blink of an eye.

For a second we simply look at each other. But then I begin to take in what I'm looking at. First, that the black design on his shirt reads, "BOOKS ARE BETTER THAN PEOPLE," confirming my suspicions that he is, in fact, a fanboy; and second, as I look at his face, that I know this boy.

It's Brayden Snow. Brayden Snow--the most popular boy in the entire school--is sitting in front of me.

And he's a fanboy!?

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WAS THAT TOO SHORT FOR Y'ALL IM SORRY BUT TBH THERES NOTHING TO SAY

IM JUST GLAD THESE FIRST AWKWARD CHAPTERS ARE DONE

PS-i threw like 939338288282 references in this chapter bc I was bored so if you got them all then A+ FOR YOU

~Jubelle <4

*PLEASE PLEASE VOTE! ty and ilysm