vandrophobia

Brownie, Anyone?

Who are they? I don't know her.

Or her.

Or her.

I look at another girl without a uniform. I don't even think she attends this school.

When I walked into my homeroom this morning, I found a rather large group of girls crowding around a desk beside mine. I already knew who they were trying to talk to—Wintar Cammin. The apple of every girl's eye and the worm of mine.

I honestly don't hate him though. He's done nothing intentionally wrong, that is, except try to torture me yesterday after knowing very well I was afraid of him, but I shrugged it off. He was merely having a bit of fun. It's all very logical really—he's simply a boy being a boy.

Yet, I know the only reason I sound so calm right now is because I can't even see him in the mass of bodies surrounding his desk.

Seeing that Tanya wasn't around, I take my seat after having to kick a random fan girl out of it. There are so many girls crowded around Wintar that I scoot my chair over to the right to make sure I'm not going to get a little burlesque show with all the butts hovering to the left of my face.

I sigh. Is it going to be like this everyday? But I pump myself back up. I can do it. I mean, I did get through yesterday's tour. That's a personal best in my book. A little gold star for Lira.

My optimistic hopes shatter, though, when I suddenly feel my chair, with me on it, hauled left. Out of my peripheral vision, I can see the crowd of fan girls part just enough for me to make my way through and before I know it, I am in the swarm. Right smack dab in the middle. And to my left is him.

I make a rapid glance over everyone, including the beautiful boy beside me. It is like being on center stage…in a very small, crowded circus.

"I thought you'd like to join us," says Wintar. He sounds clearly pleased with his move.

"Wow," I say laughing nervously. "It's like a completely different world." I don't always have the most intelligent things to say when I'm freaking out.

The girls stare at me like they are planning to kill me. I can practically read their minds.

Who is she!

Does she like him?

She thinks she's soooo cool sitting next to him in class.

Oh, I wish I were her...

Well, I really wish that your wish comes true.

I'm nodding as if I have seen just enough to be satisfied. "Well then," I say standing up, ready to leave, "I bid you good day!"

Bid you good day? What era was I born in?

"Sit." Wintar's hand reaches up and pulls down heavily on my left shoulder. He's a freaking spider! What long arms!

I land with a heavy plop back in my seat. My hands are beginning to sweat and I clasp them between my knees. I'm staring at some girl's shoes refusing to blink. If I blink, I'm scared it will break my concentration and I'll submit to looking over at Wintar. And if I do that I will stare, and if I stare it will only confirm every girl's belief surrounding us that I do indeed like him.

I already am slowly, but surely dying because of him. I don't need to expedite that process with rabid fan girls.

"So, Wintar," says a girl in an unnaturally high voice, "Have you ever modeled? I mean, you look like one."

I can feel an arm move and rest on the back of my chair. Wintar's legs come into my peripheral view. He must be leaning back.

He laughs lightly. "My mom and dad were both models, actually. I didn't want to go into the business. It's really not me."