Monday, at school, Aria was already waiting for me when I walked to my locker. She recently re-dyed her hair black, and it shone underneath the fluorescent school lights. She's scratching off her black nail polish, not because she wanted to, but because she's nervous.
I knew this because I knew her.
"Morning, Aria."
"Oh my god, there you finally are. I've been dying to tell you what my tarot reading said this morning."
I took a few books out of my locker while I listened to the outcome of Aria's reading. It's mostly positive.
"Except," she said, "it said that one of my friends would get into an accident this week."
"You have more friends, though."
The bell rang, and we started walking to French together.
"I know, I know, but I wanted to warn you. Just in case, you know?"
"That's nice, thank you."
"So keep an eye out for ladders and cars and potholes."
"I will."
There's a crowd in front of the French classroom, because our teacher was always late when we had French first period. A few of the gathered students were yawning and staring blearily at the door like their minds were still asleep.
Not Aria's though.
Judging by the little lovesick sigh beside me, Aria had already spotted her three year long crush.
It took her a moment to come back to earth, but she eventually tore her eyes away and focused on me once more. "So how was your weekend?"
"Alright. I went to the neighbourhood party-"
"Oh, right!"
"--- but we didn't do anything special. We just played some Just Dance and Mario Kart. Oh, and I got my first kiss."
Aria's eyes widened in slow-motion, like her brain was catching up to her ears.
"Yeah," I said, and I pushed up my glasses.
"Oh. My. God."
"It was for truth or dare."
"Truth or -- but still -- Oh. My. God," she repeated, hands gesturing in the air like she's trying to make sense of it all.
Before she could, our French teacher finally showed up, a coffee pot in her hand.
I went inside with the rest of the students. Behind me, I heard Aria whisper furiously, "I will get a name from you, Montgomery Goff!"
I looked over my shoulder. "Oh, you don't need to pry. It was Grayson Rogers."
At that, Aria stopped in her tracks and stared at me with her mouth open.
***
Monday, at lunch, I had frankly forgotten all about this morning.
YOU ARE READING
Monty & Grayson
Romance[COMPLETED] For seven years, Monty has lived across the street from Grayson Rogers. In all those years, they've only talked a handful of times. There's a lot of things Monty knows about Grayson Rogers, and even more he doesn't know. Until one party...
