Let's Be Awkward Together

We're dating - I guess

I jumped out of my seat, trying to comprehend what I just heard. The words played again and again like a broken record stuck on replay.

Let's date.

Let's date.

Let's date.

"D-D-D-DATE? W-WHY?" I ask, outraged for quite a couple reasons. "Eli - wait, seriously, why?"

"I want to get Vivian back, too. Let's date to show them what they're missing." He tells me. It's brilliant. Why didn't I think of that? Just then, the bell rang.

"Crap!" I say, looking at the clock. "Sorry, I-"

"Do you have kik?" He said, passing me a small, crumpled piece of paper. "Text me. I'll tell you then." He said, walking out of the classroom. "By the way, it's Elijah. " He said, waving 'cool' like. He didn't really look at me, he just sort of waved with his hand shaking behind his head. I look at the paper, his line written on it. I start to get second thoughts.

I run to my next class, realizing how much time had passed with me just staring at a piece of paper. I run in, and I was extremely grateful. I was on time to class by not even mili-seconds.

"You're lucky this time, Deroy." My odd teacher, Mr. Fonsesca commented, giving me a death glare. He was a hunch backed man with squarish glasses, pale skin and jet black hair. His eyes were empty and cold, with not only dark circles, but bags, too. Surprisingly enough, he was married. No one at this school has seen him smile. Every time someone claims they do, they're tallied on the last locker nobody has used in years in the main corridor. There are only two tallies on that locker, and he's been teaching here for twenty-five years.

I sit down in my regular seat, in the second row, third desk. I pretend to look like I want to learn today. I grab out my pencil, notebook, textbook and my eraser.
Eli . . . That boy earlier was really strange. Just straight up, "Let's date." He was blunt, but at the same time really thoughtful. Kind of sweet, too.
Ugh, what am I thinking. I just got out of a relationship. He was a nice person. . . I guess.
Why do I overthink so much?!
The whole time Mr. Fonsesca goes on and on about something about something, until my attention is caught by the door opening and closing abruptly. A girl who has long, also dark black hair walked in. She looks six feet tall, and her hair was covering her left eye. She hasn't said or done anything, and I'm already intimidated. She is wearing the correct uniform, it just all looks five sizes too small for her. She wore black ankle-high converse.

"Oh, and class, this lovely lady here is Ana-Maria Juliee. She is now one of your fellow peers." He announced, his expression emotionless and his compliment hollow. He was shorter than her. She was really, really tall. "You can sit wherever isn't taken, I suppose." He instructed nonchalantly. It's almost like he gave up teaching a long time ago.

Without a word or a glance, she walked over to a seat. Her gaze was completely straight. She didn't look emotionless, to be honest. She seemed too be trying to hard to look as though that was the case.

She came closer and closer. Wait, no . . . she sat right behind me, which sent shivers down my spine and chilled me to the core. It made my stomach churn. What was I afraid of, though? Was it because of her scary appearance? Her intimidating height? The way she was mysterious?

After my stomach was finished turning, I thought of something I hadn't considered before:

I desperately wanted - no, I needed to know more about this girl.

I'm sorry this chapter was so mega short. I'm working on the next! Love you guys, chu~! Btw, I changed it from kik to Line bc I'm liking line more~:)