caught I h.s

Chapter 4

My alarm goes off and I sigh groggily, reaching out to my bedside table, blindly trying to silence the incriminating sound blaring from my phone.

I find my target and the room is once again quiet. I sit up, rubbing my eyes and yawning. I drag myself out of bed for the fourth time this week, everything the same, boring, old - hang on, is that sun?

Despite the early hours, I could most definitely see rays of sunlight filtering through the gaps in my navy curtains. I frown, as my experience in England had yet to include a genuinely warm, sunny day.

"About time," I speak to myself. I smile breezily. Today seems like a good one.

---

I walk into English and sit down beside James, who Riley wanted me to talk to. He seems oblivious to my presence, continuing doodling on his refill.

Our teacher has yet to arrive, and so I decide my only option here would be to strike up a conversation.

"Hey," I say, not exactly sure where I'm going to take this.

He looks up, surprise flashing over his face for a split second. "Hey, Scarlett, right?"

"Yes," I answer. "Do you remember that from my awful introduction speech on Monday?"

He laughs, brushing back his short brown hair. "Yeah. Don't worry, she makes everyone do it at the start of the year, and yours definitely wasn't awful in comparison to some others."

"Thanks for the reassurance," I smile. "What are you drawing?" I try to direct the conversation onto him.

"Oh, it's nothing." His cheeks turn slightly red, and he covers the drawings with his arm. "It's not good, anyway."

"I'm sure it's amazing," I say, determined to see what he was desperately trying to hide.

James smiles briefly, looking slightly uncomfortable. "The thing is, I've never really shown anyone my art before. I reckon they'd just think it was stupid, especially what I draw."

"Trust me, I won't think it's stupid," I assure him. Doubt and apprehension still cover his face, but they are now less prominent on his features.

"Okay," he says slowly. "But you have to promise you won't laugh."

I cross my heart, staring him in his brown eyes. "I swear to God, I will not laugh," I say seriously.

James shifts his arm, just enough that I can see the outline of a figure, a girl, leaping in mid air, her hair tied in a ponytail. I gaze at the drawings on the page, multiple dance stances of the same girl, who for some reason reminds me of Riley.

"They're honestly amazing," I say truthfully. "I wish I could draw like this."

James blushes. "Thank you. They're a bit weird though, and I didn't want to show them to anyone because I thought they would think I was creepy."

"How so?" I wonder.

"Um, the girl is someone who does dance with me, out of school, but she goes here. I kind of really like her," he admits quietly, looking around to confirm that his words have reached my ears only.

"What's her name?" I ask, my interest piqued by a mile. What if he was talking about Riley? That would just be the perfect coincidence.

"Riley Elliott," he tells me.

"Oh my God," I say, cracking a wide smile. "This is great. She actually wanted me to talk to you when she found out I sit next to you in here."

He looks at me, his eyes holding mixed emotions. "Really? I thought she didn't know who I was."