Being Neighborly

Chapter 8

I lean against my locker, letting the cool metal press up against my slightly sweaty shoulder blades. Gym is no joke at this school. It's only the second day and I barely made it out of dodgeball alive. At least the hour of running, throwing, and mostly ducking worked up my appetite for lunch. I check my phone, rereading the message from Nicole saying she would meet me at my locker after she talked to her chemistry teacher about becoming a tutor.

Just as I was putting my phone back in my pocket, I catch movement in my peripheral. The hallways are still empty, everyone still in class. I opted not to shower after gym, surprisingly being the only one to make that decision. My irrational fears of school showers may come from watching one too many teen movies, but as the new girl I'm not taking any risks with potential hazing.

I catch the movement again and turn my head, wondering who else could be out of class this early. Even though I already had an idea of who it was at the other end of the hall, his presence still has my body going rigid. This guy is everywhere and he still hasn't said a word to me.

This morning I opted for just a friendly smile, trying to gauge if he had caught me catching him peeking into my room yesterday. His expression gave nothing away. We just stood in uncomfortable silence for five minutes waiting for the bus.

I also came to discover that he has been in all of my classes so far, sitting in the same desk in the back left corner. He doesn't participate in class, talk to his desk neighbors, or even look up at the board. His nose is stuck in his notebook,his hand furiously scribbling notes. Even during gym, he avoided the colorful foam balls by staying in the back corner. After a few rounds, it seemed like people were avoiding trying to get him out.

And now here he is, at his locker just a little ways down from mine. He runs his right hand through his hair, closing his locker with his left. He glances over to me, locking me in place with those green eyes of his. I might be imagining things, but I detect the smallest trace of a smirk playing on his lips.

I have no clue how long the two of us have been standing here, gazing at each other, not one of us making a move to say something. It feels like a lifetime, my heart and head pounding. Despite having the knowledge that he has the means to have been watching me for a while, I can't help but feel insanely attracted to him. Stalker or not, he's undeniably gorgeous.

In an instant, the hallway is flooded with students, the sound of the lunch bell ringing through the pandemonium. The second it took me to glance around at my fellow classmates, I lost him in the crowd. I feel a hand grip my shoulder and I jerk my body away at once.

"Hey," Nicole frowns at me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry I was just daydreaming and didn't realize you came up behind me," I blurt out the lame excuse.

"Well, what were you thinking about?" she asks, waggling her eyebrows. "Or who?" she adds, looking over my shoulder. I follow her gaze and find him again, leaning against his locker, still looking at me.

"Who is he?" I ask Nicole, not taking my eyes away from his. That hint of a smirk is still lingering, clear as day even in the midst of the lunch rush.

"Tristan Johnson, resident mystery man," Nicole replies. She then abruptly grabs my arm, whipping me around, and dragging me alongside her towards the cafeteria. Without missing a beat, she continues. "He has this whole Edward Cullen thing going for him."

"He's not vampire pale," I say, laughing a little. "And his eyes are green, not yellow or gold or whatever."

"Oh, so you've ogled him enough times to know his eye color," she teases, steering us to an empty small table. "And I didn't mean the vampire look, I mean his mannerisms."