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by Wilco Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Emotional · #2139579
My second idea for this book I want to write. Remember, reviews please!
         “Maybe I just need some space,” I told her.
         “Space from what?” Ana demanded.
         “Everything!” I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t see why you care.”
         “Maybe because we’re still friends. Now tell me, what’s wrong?”
         “Nothing.” I turned away from her.
         “It’s obviously something.” She began to massage my shoulders. “You’re gonna tell me.”
         “Don’t touch me.” I turned to face her.
         “What is wrong with you? You stopped talking to me.”
         “Oh, I stopped talking to you? Not the other way around?”
         “What do you mean?”
         “Well, let’s see- our last conversation was about a month ago. Connor and I swapped places on the bus, and now that Elijah guy’s your freakin’ bodyguard. I’m not even your chemistry partner anymore! Shianna is. Has the lightbulb gone off yet?” Boy, that was a mouthful.
         “Alright, fine. What do you want me to do?” Her voice was cracking.
         “I just want to know what happened. What made me your friend and not your best friend?”
         She took a sudden interest in her shoes. Maybe I was just a little too harsh for her.
         “Ana,” I walked up to her and grabbed her arms. “We’ve had a lotta good times together, yeah?” She nodded and sniffled.
         “Like the time I smeared chocolate pudding all over Principal Corey’s chair. And the time I carried you through the rain to the chess tourna-”
         “Eli asked me out.” She took a deep breath and looked up at me. “He’s my PT leader during my Marine training. That’s how I know him.”
         My hands dropped to my sides. “Did you really have to interrupt my grovelling?”
         “I know you promised to ask me out at graduation, Bryce. But he’s a lot more passionate about a relationship than you are.”
         “And?” Now I was feeling butthurt.
         “It’s getting harder to say no to him.” She shrugged.
         “We’re still friends, though?”
         “Of course.”
         “Well, I’m sorry for not talking to you,” I managed. “You can talk to me anytime.”
         “Thanks.” She snorted. “Do you,um, have anything against him?”
         “Well, I don’t even know the guy, so no. Not a damn thing.” I picked up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
         “We’re still friends, Bryce. You and me.”
         “Yeah, I know. Like I said, I just need some space.” I patted her cheek, resisting the urge to slap it. “Just...don’t let him hurt you, okay?”
         "If he does, I’ll break up with him.” She said assuringly.
         “Alright, then.” I let my shoulders sag, not relax. “I’m, um, gonna go to the library. Wanna come?”
         “Thought you needed some space.”
         “Oh, right,” I straightened up and smiled widely, hoping it didn’t look to fake. “See you… friend.”
         So, yeah, there I was: walking to the library realizing that any chance I might have with Ana was now being flushed down the toilet. Naturally, the only place that brought me comfort was the media center. Quiet and empty places are a depressed person’s best friend, yeah? However, whoever controlled my fate at this point in time didn’t want me to be depressed, it seemed. See, I was walking toward my cubicle of despair. The library doors opened up for me this time, but I still paused to look up, considering I've walked into them before. That’s when I saw the new girl. In my seat. Oh, no. Not happening. Sheldon mode activated.
         “Yo, excuse me.” I jogged up to my place of zen, which caused everyone to look over. “Hey, you’re in my seat.”
         She had earbuds in. Of course. I tapped her on the shoulder and repeated myself.
         Ms. Bride came over. “Um, Bryce, you’re in a library. Did you sign in?”
         I glared at the girl. “We’ll finish this later.” Then, to Ms. Bride, “No.” So I did.
         I jumped back on the girl. “Okay. Now. You’re in my seat.”
         “I don’t see your name on it.” She whispered.
         “You don’t even know my name.” I whispered back.
         “Um, Bryce? Isn’t that what the librarian said?”
         Well, shit. My expression made her crack a smile.
         “That’s beside the point.” I retorted weakly.
         “Then what’s your point?”
         “You’re in my seat. Isn’t that what I just said?” I made sure to force my tone, but she didn’t seem fazed. “Please move.”
         “Wait, say that last part again.” She pulled out her other earbud to make sure she heard correctly.
         “Will you please move to a different chair?” I relented.
         She immediately moved to an adjacent seat. “Ask and you shall receive.”
         I rolled my eyes. Taking my seat, I pulled out my chemistry tablet. Maybe some electron dot diagrams could take my mind off my crumbling social life. I couldn’t concentrate, though, because of that girl’s damned music.
         ‘There’s only one solution,’ I thought. I unplugged her earbuds.
         “Dude, really?” She hissed.
         “I couldn’t concentrate.”
         “Well, listen to your own music or something.”
         “I can’t. I’m on probation.”
         “Why are you on probation?”
         “Why are you still whispering?"
         “We’re in a library. We’re supposed to be quiet!”
         “Well, screw the rules. I do what I want!” I raised my voice with each word.
         “Bryce! Lower your voice! Last warning!” Ms. Bride scolded.
         I smiled at the girl. “Insubordination."
         “So you’re grounded, basically.”
         “Yep. Not from homework, though. Stupid teachers.”
         She chortled, but quickly put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
         I shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for. What’s your name?”
         “Rochelle.”
         “That’s a cool name." I extended my hand. "Bryce."
         "Um, yes, I know."
         "Right." I let my hand drop. "Now, uh, what about my other question?”
         “What other question?”
         “Why do you whisper?”
         She looked down at her tablet. “Like I said, we’re in library.”
         “I’m talking in my regular voice. You don’t have to whisper.”
         “Vocal cord disorder, if you must know.”
         “Oh.” Suddenly, I felt guilty for asking. “I guess you do, then.”
         She smiled thinly. “It’s cool. Had it since birth. I know sign language, just in case.”
         “Aw, really?”
         She nodded. “Like when I get a sore throat or talk for too long, it comes in handy… pun intended.”
         “Do you think you can teach me?”
         She shrugged. “Maybe if you quit asking me so many questions, and don’t make fun of me for it.”
         “Deal.” I held out my pinky.
         “What are you doing?”
         “It’s called pinky promising. Hold out your pinky like me, and we cross them.”
         “How ‘bout no?”
         “Eh, whatever. I promise I won’t make fun of you or your disorder.”
         “Good.” She stood up and grabbed her stuff. “Your lessons will begin tomorrow, since I need to get to student services. And I don’t like the way your tablet is flashing red.”
         I looked down. “Shit, I’m late for chemistry. Um, Rochelle, right? Alright, see you.”
         It’s kind of funny, if you think about it. Oh-so-coincidentally, this new girl just happened to transfer at the time of my falling out with Ana. Could she be a second chance, or just another heartbreak? Only time will tell. Only time will tell...
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