I looked across the classroom to look at the clock. Only five minutes left of class and we'd be free for the weekend. You could tell everyone was excited and didn't care much about what was going on anymore. They all had their books close, pencil cases closed, and most were staring at the clock just as I was. I was so anxious and excited that I didn't even realize my foot was tapping.
"Avery," I heard a voice whisper. "Stop tapping your foot! It's really annoying," he said. I turned around and looked into his beautiful blue eyes. Or were they green? A bit of both, I guess. Either way he had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.
"Oh, I'm sorry Dustin. I didn't mean to annoy you in the last five minutes of class time," I said sarcastically.
I'm normally shy around boys, but Dustin and I have been best friends since I moved here. I didn't have many other friends, and the girls here are all stuck up bitches, so it was nice to have him. The first day I came here, him and his family brought over the best brownies I've ever had in my life as a "Welcome to the neighbourhood" present, and we instantly clicked. We both loved sports, swimming, talking non-stop, and, he'll deny it to anyone else, but we both loved Justin Bieber.
The bell rang before either of us could say anything else. Everyone practically jumped out of their seats and ran out the door. I grabbed my History text book and work book and ran out the door towards my locker. I got all of my belongings and was about to leave when again I heard Dustin calling my name.
"Avery, wait!" he screamed from down the hall in his adorable Irish accent. He ran up to me and handed me my pencil case. "You were in such a hurry to leave you almost forgot this. Be more careful next time," he said. He winked at me before opening his locker which was only about 15 down from mine.
I watched him grab his backpack and walk in my direction towards the door. I watched him walk out the doors. When they shut, reality kicked back in. I checked my watch. Oh no. My bus was leaving! I quickly shut and locked my locker and ran out the door. To my horror, my bus had left already, along with ninety seven percent of the rest of the students. I guess I was walking home.
I looked around to see if Dustin had left already. Since we were neighbours, I thought I could walk home with him. Why do I take a bus home and he walks? I never really figured that out either. I put my headphones in and started walking down the sidewalk home. I couldn't hear anything, so when someone grabbed my hand, it scared me to death. I let out a loud scream and turned around.
"Dustin, what the fuck man!" I said. He was already laughing hysterically, so he didn't say anything. He laughed even harder at my failed attempt to punch him. "I thought you left already! That's not even funny!" I started walking again, and he ran to catch up with me. Well, after he stopped laughing.
"Aw, I'm sorry Avery, I didn't think you'd be that upset," he said. He was still smiling, so I knew his apology wasn't very sincere. I could never take him seriously, and no matter what he did or said, I could never get mad at him. I don't know why. It just wasn't possible. We kept walking and talking about school and our different classes. We had three out of four classes together, plus lunch, If it wasn't enough that I saw him every day at school, I saw him a lot outside of school because our parents are good friends, so they occasionally come over for dinner or brunch or afternoon tea.
"So, there's still one question you've never answered," he said. "I ask you all the time, but you always refuse to answer."
"Dustin, please..." I knew exactly what he wanted to know. I originally am from Canada. I was forced to move here when I was twelve. I never told him why or what happened.
He stopped me and sat me down on a bench. He sat down next to me and looked me in the eyes.
"Avery, I've known you since you moved here four years ago, and you tell me all your secrets except for this one. I know you trust me, but I don't understand why you won't tell me this. Please?" He looked at me with sad eyes, the tips of his long brown hair covering parts of them. I looked away.
YOU ARE READING
What Makes Me "Me"
Teen Fiction"My name is Avery Fields, and I'm sixteen years old. I might not be outgoing, or interesting, or particualrly friendly. But you can't judge a book by its cover. I know that may sound cheesy, but it's true. You don't know me or my story, so don't jud...
