Page 7 of Visions & Shadows

When he turns his attention back to me, my jaw drops open. No one dismisses Megan, especially not to talk to me.

“I haven’t had time to get any books. Mind sharing?” he asks.

“Ah…” I nod quickly while digging the history book out of my bag. “Sure.”

My tongue darts out to wet my lips as I open the book between us.

While I wait for Mr. Brady to start, I focus on my drawing, not trying to make it obvious I’m affected by my new neighbor.

As the lesson begins, I desperately try to focus on what Mr. Brady is saying, but it’s of no use. The Titanic could be sinking beside me, and I wouldn’t even notice right now.

I’m super aware of the hot guy sitting only inches away from me, and all I can smell is his amazing cologne.

Ryan shifts in his chair as he turns the page in the textbook, and his arm presses against mine. When he doesn’t move again, my stomach free-falls into oblivion and tingles explode over my body.

I clear my throat and try to control my breathing while my palms grow sweaty. My sole focus is glued to the spot where our arms are touching.

When the bell finally rings, relief floods my body. Gathering my sketchbook and pencil, I grab my bag before darting up from my chair. I squeeze past Ryan’s seat and rush for the door as if hellhounds are nipping at my heels.

Holy shit. Sitting next to Ryan was intense.

Sucking in deep breaths of air, I try to calm my racing heart as I head to the next class.

Walking into English Lit, I take my usual seat at the back, and as I set my sketchpad down on the desk, Molly takes a seat in front of me. It’s not her usual seat, so she has to have an ulterior motive for sitting closeto me.

“Why did you take off like a bat out of hell after history?” she asks.

“I didn’t.” Molly keeps staring at me so I add, “I’m just excited about our poem reading today.”

I hate speaking in public, and the poem I wrote sucks ass.

“Sure, and I’m a unicorn,” Molly smirks at me. “I saw the new guy talking to you. What did he say?” Scooting her chair closer, she rests her elbows on my desk, looking like she’s about to explode with excitement.

“He just commented on my drawing.” She keeps staring at me. I can see she wants way more information. “Really. That’s all.”

“Then why did you run out of class like that?”

Like a dog with a bone, Molly’s not about to let this go.

“I just wanted to read over my poem again. I’m nervous. Aren’t you?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.” Her eyes light up with interest. “You’re so lucky he sat next to you. What’s his name?” She glances over her shoulder, then lets out an excited shriek. “Here he comes.”

I have to force my eyes to stay down so I don’t go making a fool of myself again.

Molly gives a nervous giggle. “He’s heading our way.”

She’s supposed to be madly in love with Robert-the-douchebag, and he’ll be one unhappy puppy if he hears how excited his girlfriend is about Ryan.

There are a few desks with open seats, so I’m totally surprised when the chair next to mine scrapes across the floor.

He’s sitting beside me again? Why?

I look at Ryan as he takes a seat. It’s only a split-second glance before I come to my senses and snap my eyes back to my poem.

Don’t stare at him.

I try to look unaffected by his presence while pretending to read my poem, my heart beating a crazy rhythm against my ribs.

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