{8}
"If you had a half a brain, I swear you'd be fuckin' dangerous!"
James looked at me incredulously, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Me? How is this my fault? You're the one that put your water bottle there, obviously someone was gonna knock it over."
"Oh, don't you dare blamed this-" I motioned to the water covered sheets of paper in front of me "-on me. If you weren't so clumsy, my assignment wouldnt be soaked!"
I looked down at my 2000 word essay for History again and I felt tears come to my eyes. It was completely drenched in water, and my bottle of icy cold water was still knocked over, a drop of water falling every so often. It took me ages to write all this work, proof-read it and then type it up on one of the libary's computers. I was reading over it once again before I handed it to the teacher, early, and then in struts James with his whole 'I'm better than everyone so screw you all, I'll do what I want because I'm a total ass hole' aura. On his way past me, his leather clad elbow brushed my plastic water bottle, making it tip and spread over my work that was laid out on the table.
"Hey, woah lady. Don't cry, please. Uh..." I realised that a stray tear had escaped my eye, and I quickly brushed it away. I looked to my left to see someone with thick square glasses staring at me.
"What? Is there a problem?" I snapped and he looked away. I then put my attention back on James, who had his hands stuffed in his pockets nervously. "How'd you even hit it? Why were your elbows out so far?"
His eyes met my gaze and for a moment I was lost in the dark green-brown color of them. "What are you on about, 'my elbows'?"
"I mean, were you trying to frickin' fly? With your elbows sticking out that far from your sides, you must of been."
He rolled his eyes, "Listen, Andy. I'm sorry but -"
"Your sorry?" I forced a laugh. "Is that gonna get me my 2000 word essay back? Uh, no."
I stood up, scrunching the wet papers up - them tearing in the process, and chucking them in the bin.
When I sat back down, I glared at James, who was still standing in front of my table. "What? You've done enough today. Off with you, Dumbo."
*~*~*
A feeling of dejavu hits me when I'm in the food line at the cafeteria. Why?
Because James is right in front of me. The weird thing is he isn't talking to me, not even trying to annoy the shit out of me or humiliate me, even. I raised an eyebrow at his back; he wasn't even making eyecontact.
"The spaghetti, please." I heard James say to one of the lunch ladies. I ordered the same, and moved along the line. Grabbing a small bottle of apple juice and paying for my lunch, I made my way to a stranded table.
Which, unfortunately, had to be right next to the overflowing garbage bins.
Just as I swirled some delicious-looking, sauce-covered pasta on my fork, five pages filled with printed writing landed on my desk with a soft thud. I looked up to see the back of James sauntering away with his hands, once again, in his pockets.
My eyes gazed at the first page of the pile, and realised what it was.
Joan of Arc: Saint or Sinner?
By Andrea Owens
It's my 2000 word essay for History.
*~*~*
At the end of the day when I was just shutting my locker, I happened to glace up and meet the hazel eyes of James from across the hall. I smiled at him genuinely, but unfortunately didn't get one back.
I began toward him but my path was blocked by none other than Colton. "Hey there, stranger. You ready to go home?" He asked, pulling me in a tight hug. Over his shoulder, I saw the reatreating figure of James.
You're not getting away that easy.
"Uh, I just have one thing to take care of. Meet me in the parking lot?"
Before he could ask questions or even say yes or no, I took of running down the hall way. I could easily see James now.
"Hey! James! Wait up," I was just about at his side, so when he stopped I was taken off gaurd and tripped over my own foot. Expecting to hit the ground hard, I squeezed my eyes shut. But when I didn't feel contact with the ground, I slowly peeled one eye open and then the other to see I was in someones arms.
James'.
"Uh, thanks." I said as he pulled me up toward him but didn't remove his hands from my waist. How had I not felt his hands around me before? And why are they seem to be sending heat through my entire body? I clearded my throat and put my hands on his chest lightly, "Nice biceps."
He raised an eyebrow at me, amused. Relising what I actually had said out loud, I corrected myself. "I meant to say nice reflexes." Grinning, he nodded and removed his arms from around me. I felt disappointment cloud my head but pushed it to the back of my mind.
"I'm sure you did. Anyway, what'd you want?"
For the second time today, I was almost lost in those gorgeous eyes of his. "I just wanted to say thanks." I looked down at my worn out chucks, "I really appreciate you doing my work. But, I can't take -"
James cut me off. "Of course you can. Let someone else do something for you, for once."
For a while we just stood there, looking onto each other's eyes until something came to my attention. "Hey, why'd you walk away before? You saw my trying to get to you."
He suddenly stiffened, his expression turning stone. "Yeah, I had something I wanted to see."
I nodded, kind of hurt. "You didn't wanna see me?"
For a second James hesitated, then snorted, "of course not." Laughing, he shook his head. "Anyway, I have to go to work. Catch ya, An."
I watched him walk away, and when he was just about to turn the, I shouted, "An? Really, Dumbo?"
And I could've sworn I heard him laugh, a real laugh, and God it was heart warming.
YOU ARE READING
Liar, Liar
RomanceAndrea Owens isn't one to say that her life is the worst in the world, but she knows that girls like her aren't suppose to have these thoughts. Girls like her aren't suppose to feel this way, or have scars like the ones on her body. So she's not abo...