My favorite class of the day rolls around, Home Economics. Not because we cook, because I sit next to February. I'm usually one of the last people into class, and she is usually the first. I lay my backpack out on the table and glance at her. She is texting someone, Quinn. I remember her name from my math class, who I see February walk with sometimes.
"Whats up with her?" I ask, and she finishes typing and presses send, shoving her phone in her pocket.
"Boy problems." She says and I laugh.
"With her?" I ask, and she points her finger into my chest.
"You want to know if we are talking about you!" She says, smiling.
"Yeah." I say awkwardly and she laughs again.
"Its about her boyfriend. I don't have any boy problems." She says and I nod. Is this her under handed way of saying she's not interested? She sees the doubt playing across my face and she smiles. "I am not saying 'I'm not interested in you'." I laugh awkwardly and smile. This makes her laugh, and I want to pull her close and kiss her, right there and then.
"Okay." I say, thats all. The table we sit at isnt packed like some of them, but February's chair is pushed up next to mine. Her leg is leaning against my leg, and I close my eyes, a light smile plays across my lips.
These are the times I want to pause my life and breathe it in, enjoy the little happiness I have, right now.
I am falling head over heels for February Ashford.
YOU ARE READING
3am
Short Story"It's 3am and all I want is your lips on mine. It's the same as yesterday at 7pm, or Thursday at noon. It's the same as every hour, every minute, every second since I met you." #26 in Short Story.
