Page 32 of I Would Stay Forever
I sat in the parking lot of the school for way too long on Monday morning, dropping my head against the steering wheel and letting out a long sigh. How was I going to be able to look this boy in the eyes without thinking about that moment? And—oh, god—he wasn’t going to be able to look at me without thinking of it either.
I’d gone all out with my uniform today, basically covering myself up as much as possible. Even though it was warm out, I wore the blouse, sweater vest, blazer, high socks, and the longest skirt I had. (I’d hemmed all the others to be as short as possible without getting called into the principal’s office, but kept one long for emergencies such as this.) I knew it couldn’t undo the memory of him seeing me in a towel, but at least I was helping the process along.
Maybe I should just switch out of History of Warfare and save myself all this trouble.
The thought had crossed my mind more times than I could count over the weekend. After all, it was only the second week of school. Only the fifth day when you really got down to it. Changing classes now was basically expected. But then I imagined having to walk back into Emma’s office and having to explain that I wanted to switch out of the class because of Dean freaking Graham and I honestly thought I’d rather he see me in a towel again than go through that.
I groaned loudly. Well, at least after this year I would never have to see him again. That was the reminder I was giving myself every time something went wrong this year.
Five months until this class was over.
Ten months until the end of the school year.
Eleven and a half months until university started.
Then I would leave forever.
I could make it that long, I thought. But then I lifted my head and squinted through the morning sunlight toward the large imposing stone building in front of me and ten months didn’t seem so comforting anymore. It seemed like a hell of a long time.
I sat there until the warning bell rang and I knew that if I waited any longer, I would absolutely be late. I forced myself to open the car door and get out, pulling my book bag from where it was sitting on the passenger seat. There were still a number of people in the parking lot—other stragglers like me, waiting as long as they could before they went into school. There were even a couple of cars still pulling in, probably from sleeping in as late as possible. Now that it was the second week of school, they’d already made a good first impression on their teachers and were now much less motivated to be on time.
I hooked my thumbs through the straps of my book bag as I walked toward the school. I took a big deep breath and with every step reminded myself that none of this would matter in ayear. Besides, it wasn’t like Dean hadn’t seen me in less. He saw me in a bra on Friday night, for goodness sake!
But that was the wrong thing to think about now, because the next thing I knew, I was having a flashback to that. Friday, he saw me in a bra. Saturday, he saw me in a towel. What was next? Him seeing me completely naked?Yeah, that would be great.
I walked as slowly as I could through the hallways, trying to delay the inevitable. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that I was still in the middle of the hallway when the PA system crackled to life and the principal’s bored voice came over the speakers.
“Please rise for the national anthem.”
I sighed and stopped walking. I was only two doors down from the classroom and on any normal day, I would run to get inside before the anthem started playing so I wouldn’t technically be late. But if I went running in, I would have to stand next to Dean for that much longer, trying to convince myself that he wasn’t imagining me in a bra or in a towel every time he looked at me, and I wasn’t sure that I could manage that. The choice was taken from me as the opening bars began and I officially had to stay where I was.
I glanced around, noticing the couple of other people in the hallway with me. A freshman girl was a few feet behind me, fidgeting with her tie and kept glancing at the one doorway with a teacher watching the hallway instead of her classroom. I guessed she was hoping to do the awkward “shuffle down the hallway while nobody’s looking” move. Further ahead of me was a senior boy that I vaguely recognized but didn’t know well, who just looked bored. I was surprised there were only the three of us, but I guess either this hallway was so out of the way that hardly anybody used it or everyone I’d seen in the parking lot had booked it to class, not wanting to get a tardy slip.
Meanwhile, I was starting to wonder if I should just skip the class altogether. Logically, I knew that I would have to see Dean at some point, but knowing it and facing it right now were two very different things.
Of course, we did have plans this afternoon to work on our project together and if I didn’t show up in class, it would only open up questions from him about where I was. He would probably realize I was avoiding him and try to text me about it or leave another note in my locker. And would that really be any better than seeing him now?
The national anthem came to a close and when the principal’s voice came back on saying, “Please be seated,” I started toward the classroom like I was walking to my execution.
On the bright side, Mr. Thompson wasn’t in the room yet, so I didn’t get a tardy slip. I walked straight to my seat with my head down, avoiding eye contact with Dean by all means necessary. He didn’t say anything to me as I sat down, which I took as a good sign that we were both choosing to ignore each other. At least he wouldn’t be trying to make conversation while I was trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
While we waited for Thompson to show up, I dropped my bag on the floor between my chair and Dean’s like always and went to grab my notebook from it. Unlike usual, though, when I grabbed the notebook, I accidentally brushed my hand against his ankle. He flinched as if I’d given him an electric shock, which made me flinch so hard that I slammed the side of my head against the desk. Then we both just stared at each other with wide eyes and red faces, neither of us saying anything.
“Sorry,” I mumbled because the silence was worse than saying something. Then I turned away, focusing on my open notebook like it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen in my life. Since class hadn’t started, the only thing I could write was the date, but it was something. A distraction. After that, Icounted my breaths (fifty-two) until Mr. Thompson walked into the room.
“Sorry I’m late, class,” he said, dropping his briefcase on his desk at the front and immediately picking up a piece of chalk. “I had a little bit of traffic coming in this morning. How is everyone doing today?”
Everyone mumbled something akin togoodand he laughed.
“Got a case of the Mondays, have we?” he asked. “Well, I guess I feel the same way. Why don’t we all open up our textbooks to page seventy-four, and we’ll get started.”
I’d only grabbed my notebook from my bag, so I had to reach back into my bag for my textbook. I’d learned my lesson this time, keeping my bag closer to myself, and I didn’t touch Dean at all. When I looked up again, he was still looking at me and I wondered if he noticed how hard I’d gone out of my way not to touch him. I hoped he wasn’t offended—but then, how could he be when he’d flinched so hard when I innocently touched him for a second?
I decided to act like nothing was wrong and started flipping to the correct page as Mr. Thompson began writing an overview of what we would be doing today on the board. I felt Dean shifting beside me but I refused to look over, knowing that if I made eye contact with him, my face would flush bright red again. That wasn’t enough to stop him, though, because a moment later, he was leaning in closer than was appropriate.
“I forgot my textbook,” he murmured. I almost flinched away at the way his hot breath tickled my ear. By some miracle, I managed to stay still. I was pretty sure anybody around us would notice if I suddenly flung myself into the wall beside me. Still, my heart pounded in my chest for reasons I did not want to analyze. “Mind if we share?”
I didn’t even say anything in response. I just pushed the textbook so that it was sitting between us, letting him read it.He murmured his thanks and I just nodded back, not trusting myself to respond verbally.
