// Dedicated to Dona-Dona because I didn't know you had a Watty account before and now we can be buddies on here, too. //
Author's Note:
PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END--IMPORTANT INFORMATION AND UPDATES (OR AT THE VERY LEAST READ THE BOLDED BITS).
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I pull up in the parking lot, sitting back for a moment to watch other students milling around, clad in their pyjamas. They all say something different about a person; comfy, revealing, scandalous, the list went on.
It was the infamous spirit week, and the whole school was decked out in sleepwear. It was Friday, the last day of the week, meaning the senior pep-rally was today.
Two weeks had gone by since Jace and I’s fallout, yet I was still feeling the aftereffects. It had happened so suddenly, and despite the length of time that had passed, it still hadn’t sunk it.
Mustering up my courage, I open the door and step out. It’s windy, the blustering air stinging my cheeks and turning them pink. I hoist my handbag onto my back and join the fleet of people walking into the school.
I was wearing a super fuzzy Stitch onesie, made of a plush blue material. I almost felt sorry for the girls wearing boy-shorts and a crop top, as they shivered in the buffeting winds.
“Hey.” A British accent spoke softly from my left. I felt a nudge at my side turn to see Seth beside me. He adjusts his glasses and tosses me a boyish grin. He wore blue checkered pjs, the color accentuating that of his eyes.
“Hey.” I smile and match his stride. It was hard to explain, but he was so… pretty. It made me just want to stare at him forever and draw him. He was like one of those murals at a museum that said ‘Do Not Touch’, and yet you couldn’t help but sneak in a brush of your fingertips. He was so commanding, so mesmerising--.
“So are you all bananas?”
“Sorry, what did you say?”
He laughed, a deep, sexy chuckle, and shook his head. “I said do you want to hang out after school?”
“Sure, mine or yours?”
“Mine.”
“Cool beans, just need to tell my Gram.” I whip out my phone, bracing myself for the inevitable question.
“You’re Gram… do you live with her? Is it just you two?”
I tense, and pause for a second before continuing. “Yeah.” I murmur.
“Well then we have something in common.” He smiles. “I live with Pop. My parents died when I was three.”
“My dad left at my birth and my mom disappeared when I was seven.” I’m suddenly enveloped in expensive-smelling cologne and a muscular build.
“I know how it feels.” I wrap my arms around his torso, happy that I found someone to relate to, happy for a hug.
We don’t stop talking until he excuses himself to go to the bathroom. I’m about to walk in to Calculus BC when I bump into another guy. My books topple out from my backpack, and with a disgruntled sigh, I reach to pick one up.
My hand meets another warm hand and we lock eyes. Jace. He averts his eyes, jaw working, and continues to help me gather my things. He hands them to me and leaves, silent and ominous as ever.
I gnaw on my my lip, feeling frustrated and upset. I wanted things to be back to normal. I missed him so, so much. What were you thinking? It wasn’t like he was going to talk to you. You two are now strangers, so get over it and move on, my mind told me.
YOU ARE READING
Katrina Unplugged
Teen Fiction[ unedited ] Katrina Shaymin has never exactly been It-Girl material, which became even more apparent after her best friend of eight years, Colette Atriana, left her for popularity when they were freshmen. Since then, Katrina has been able to get he...
