Fighting the Disquiet

21

"My fears tries to keep my secrets locked down, but my hope keeps slipping you the key."

- David Levithan

I was worried on Monday about what Decker would do when I saw him. Luckily, when I meet the rest of our friend group in the quad before school he and Scott are both at swim practice. That means I wouldn't see him until first period and I wouldn't have to worry about a potentially awkward situation. Or at least that's what I thought because although we had had two amazing dates this weekend I wasn't sure what we were or how he would act at school. I know it sounds dumb, but what if he just acted like nothing happened?

Summer and I took our usual seats and we were one of the first ones in class. I was nervous about getting my grades back. I knew that I had done poorly on the AP English Comp essays and I anxiously played with the hoop in my ear. When Decker entered the classroom I noticed that his hair was a little damp and he shot me a wide grin. I involuntarily smiled back unable to contain how even just his smile gave me butterflies. When he dropped his backpack on the floor next to his desk he knelt down beside my desk and I look at him. We were eye level surprisingly considering how he was on his knee. 

He placed his hands on my desk and reached for mine that wasn't playing with my earring. He intertwined our fingers and looking up at me, his brown eyes more golden today than I'd seen them. Maybe it was the color of his shirt, but they were extra mesmerizing. 

"Morning," he smiles.

His eyes were searching my face and I wondered what he was trying to discover.

"Morning," I reply, admittedly a little breathless for some reason.

What is the boy doing to me?

"Are you worried about your grade?" he asks suddenly tilting his head.

He tucks my hair that is falling into my face behind my ears and it makes my heart skip a beat.

"A little," I lie. I am most definitely freaking out about my grade. I can't get anything other than all A's this year. I need to be perfect. It's the one thing I have control over in my life right now.

I see him frown for a moment, but maybe I imagined it because when I blink he's smiling again. 

"Whatever you get you still have time to bring your grade up. It's only the mid-term," he reassures, although it doesn't do anything to help the knots in my stomach.

I nod anyway and the bell rings making me jump. He smirks at me like he's amused before releasing my hand and taking a seat at his desk. As soon as his hand is gone I miss it. I want to hold it all the time. It feels good. Safe. Warm. Whole.

I shake my thoughts away as our teacher begins speaking. She starts on a lecture about how disappointed she is in the essays and says that we will be doing mini-timed essays every class for the rest of the semester so that we do better on the next one. I just want her to pass the damn grades back so I can get it over with.

My leg is bouncing to release some of my anxious energy as I watch her walk around the classroom and pass back the essays individually. I guess it must be alphabetical because she gets to me early and my heart pounds in my chest as I stare at the back of the paper. I don't want to flip it over because I know that it's going to say I'm a failure but I can't wait anymore so I flip it over.

The first essay grade is a C, which makes my chest tighten. I flip to the next one and my breath hitches. D. I've never gotten a D in my life. My nose tickles like I'm going to cry and I turn to the last essay. D. I can feel my eyes starting to burn with tears that are pooling in them and I blink rapidly to make them go away. I quickly shove the essays in my backpack not wanting to look at them anymore.