Manic

Chapter 15.

The beginning of the day goes by like every other day would. Lunch rolls around and I sit with the Immigrant Nerds just as I have everyday from the first day of school. The only difference about today was the excitement.

At first I assumed it was because Christmas break starts next week. But then the questions came.

"DID YOU GUYS KISS?"

"HOW WAS THE DATE?"

"WAS HE SWEET?"

I laugh and sit down next to Delilah and Honeymaren. "It was just a date!" I say, knowing full well that it was so much more than just a date. How about the beginning of my happily ever after?

"Shut up." Chenoa says, "You guys kissed didn't you. Was he a good kisser? Was there tongue? How was it?"

"Oh my god, we didn't kiss." I laugh. I can't keep the smile from my lips as I think back to last night.

"They kissed." Honeymaren says with a smirk on her face. "Keep your secrets blah blah... but tell me. Was he a good kisser?"

I laugh again, "I'm telling you, we didn't kiss!"

Bodhi jumps in, "They didn't kiss, he would obviously tell us if they did."

I point at him, "Bo knows what he's talking about."

Bodhi frowns, "Bo will not be a nickname for me." he sticks his nose back in his book.

The girls and I laugh and joke around until I see Rivers walking towards the library. I stand up, "Hey, I'll be right back." I jog over to where Rivers is walking.

He glances at me sideways, "Elijah," he says.

"Rivers," I say. A smile creeps onto my lips, "So what are you doing this weekend?"

"Dunno," he replies.

"I was thinking..." I start to say.

"Yes I will hangout with you. God you don't have to beg, Elijah."

I laugh. "If you think that's begging, you should see me on my knees."

Rivers smirks, "I plan to."

I walk with him to the library where he looks through the shelves of books. For a while, neither of us say a thing. Rivers reaches at a shelf just above his head and pulls out a book. He opens it to the first page, "My mom used to love this book," He says.

I don't know what to say. I remembered he told me that his mother passed away a few years ago. "What book is it?" I finally ask.

He closes the book and turns to me, "Twilight. One of the classics." He says. "I'm going to New York next week. Come with me."

I was taken back by the offer. "Am I allowed?"

He chuckles, "Of course you are, weirdo."

"I've always wanted to go to New York." I smile at him. He looks back at the book with a sad expression, and places it gently back on the shelf.