Pretty Boy [bxb] | ✔️

Chapter twelve: Is this jealousy?

Is this jealousy?

"Are you free after school on the evening of the eighth?" Cami asks me as we take a seat on the squeaky cafeteria chairs at lunch. I shrug in response.

"I don't know. You're going to have to be more specific. What day is that?" I say, not bothering to do the maths as I rip open a sachet of sugar and pour it in my coffee. I don't think I'm completely sure what the date is today.

I take a sip of the not nearly hot enough drink. The coffee the school sells is not in my top 10 list of the best coffees, but I'm going to have to settle for what I can get if I want to get through the day. You can taste the cheapness of it.

"This Friday," She replies, taking a bite of her tuna sandwich. I grimace at the smell of it. Once she swallows, she carries on, "I'm having a house party to celebrate my birthday. But if you can't come then, I'll have to change the date. I can't have my birthday party without my best friend, can I?" She nudges my shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure I'm free," I say, although I already know that I'm completely free. I don't have much of a social life apart from Cami, which I blame on myself. My anxiety hates me socialising with people who I'm—or it's—not familiar with. I also don't go to parties to avoid the alcohol as my medication has a bad reaction with it.

"I know it's two days before the London trip, and my birthday is during it, but I couldn't find any other time. It's not like people will still be hungover on the day of the journey, anyway."

I pause halfway through taking another sip, and my eyes widen. I had completely forgotten about our school trip to London. I had brushed it to the back of my mind to prevent myself from overthinking about it and getting overly anxious about the flight. I told Cami not to talk about it too much for the same reason. But now that she's mentioned it, it reminds me that we're going on Sunday. In five days. Oh shit.

Then I remember that the sheet of paper that is to tell us who we will be sharing a room with for the week is supposed to be taped on the History Department Office this lunchtime and I abruptly stand up, causing Cami to look at me in alarm.

Before she can ask where I'm going, I say, "We get to find who we're staying in a room with like right now."

Her eyes widen with excitement, "Oh crap, yeah." She dumps her sandwich crusts in the bin next to the table we're sat at and stands up. I dispose of my coffee cup, and then we grab our bags and bolt from the cafeteria, up the stairs, down the corridor, and towards the History Department Office.

Expectantly, the hallway is already milling with students trying to find out who they're going to share a room with, pushing and shoving each other out the way so they can see.