It Happened Last Year

“You look like death,” Jana tells me as we walk into the school. “Did you not sleep at all?”

“Someone toilet-papered my house last night. I had to clean it up before my mom saw,” I tell her. “I got maybe three hours of sleep overall.”

“Really? You should have called me. I would have helped.”

I shake my head. “I was fine. Just a little sleepy now, that’s all. Did you get James’ number like you said you were going to?”

“Yeah. Watts gave it to me.”

I glance up at her from my slow feet. “And? Did you text him?”

“I was going to, but I couldn’t figure out what to say. He’s leaving next week anyway, I shouldn’t bother,” she says.

“You should. You never know.”

The bell rings and we go our separate ways. I slip through the crowded halls and find safety in my first-hour classroom, Economics with Daphne, who has been surprisingly distant. At first she would push my papers off of my desk as she walked by, or mutter things under her breath that Mr. Freeman wouldn’t quite hear. Ever since fall break, she hasn’t said a word to me, making the class much more enjoyable. The other students have begun treating me like a normal person, as well.

I take my seat and place my textbook on my desk, grabbing pencils and such from my bag as people start to wander in. Mr. Freeman is at his desk, looking rushed as usual. Sometimes when he brings up a PowerPoint, the screen is something else, showing us a dating site for example. He’ll scramble to which tabs while the girls giggle.

Daphne comes in, texting away on her phone, and she takes her seat a few desks in front of mine.

“If you haven’t turned in your problem set for last week, bring it to me now or it’s marked late,” Mr. Freeman announces as the last few students hurry in. The bell rings and I sift through my bag, pulling out my problem set which I shockingly haven’t turned in.

These parties at Watts’ aren’t helping me get my homework done. I had to beg Mr. Freeman yesterday for more time.

With the paper in my hand, I get up and walk down the aisle, that is until I come crashing to the floor. In a matter of seconds, I manage to trip and hit my elbow on a desk before barely catching myself with my hands. Everyone’s eyes shoot to me and I hear Daphne whisper, “Sorry.”

Mr. Freeman asks if I’m alright as I ignore the pain in my elbow and hand him the paper. “Yeah, I’m fine,”

I murmur with red cheeks, making my way back to my desk, a walk of shame and embarrassment.

Some students are silently laughing.

“Oh my God,” someone whispers, “that’s so embarrassing.”

Up until lunch I sit silently in all of my classes and decide to ditch the cafeteria for the track. I know people will be talking about it, Daphne can’t keep her loud mouth shut. To think things were going well with her. . .

After the eggs, the toilet paper, and this, I find it hard to continue on with a smile. The track is empty, so I climb the bleachers to the top and lay down on the highest bench. Staring up at the dark, cloudy sky, I presume that it’s going to rain. With my luck, it will start pouring on me now.

A few minutes pass of peace and quiet before a familiar voice interrupts my tranquility.

“What are you doing up here? Everyone is wondering where you are.”

My eyes open and see Daniel standing in front of me. “I want to be alone, that’s why I’m up here.”

Instead of leaving, he sits down beside my head, causing me to sigh. I sit up and brush my hair from my face, in no mood to talk to anyone.

“What happened?” He asks.

“Please,” I mumble, being as genuine as possible, “I really don’t want to talk right now, I just want to be alone. I’m trying to do a good thing by not driving home.”

Any girl in my position would spill their heart out to him. How can they not? He’s closed-off on the outside but for some reason, he cares about how I am feeling. Daniel is some sort of dream guy, and I’m sure I am ruining my chance with him, a chance I am not even sure I have in the first place.

Why must he always look so good? Beside him, I must look like a mess. Dark circles, tangled hair, pale and dehydrated-looking. Damn him. Damn everything right about now.

“Come on, we both know I’m not leaving, so you better just tell me what happened.”

I nod and let out a sort of sad, short laugh. “Well, someone egged my car yesterday, then last night at two in the morning, two assholes covered my house in toilet paper, and in first period I was tripped and fell in front of everyone, hitting my elbow on a desk. Plus, I’m pretty sure my mother thinks I’m a lying whore.”

Not letting him speak, I say, “So, hopefully, you understand why I want to be alone right now. I probably seem pathetic, so please, you’re free to go.”

Daniel brings his arm around me, pushing me against him-the surprise fades and my cheek rests on his chest. Comforted by this action, I take a deep breath, breathing in his guy-ish scent. “I just wish someone would have told me that even after the worst part, bad things still happen because of it,” I say quietly.

We sit in silence for a minute or two until Daniel says, “You smell like Vanilla.”

“It’s probably my lotion,” I glance up at him. His eyes find mine and I sigh. “Why are you so pretty?”

A smile appears on his face. “Pretty?”

I nod, too tired to care about the words leaving my mouth. “You’re too pretty, Daniel.”

He squeezes my arm, causing me to look up at him again. “Why are you so pretty?” Before I can mutter something about how I’m not, or how this is cheesy and stupid, Daniel decides to kiss me again. It’s soft, gentle, making my heart race.

When he leaves me wanting more, I say, “You just think you can do that whenever you please, don’t you?”

Daniel responds smoothly, “Yeah, I do.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Well, you can’t.”

There are another few moments of silence before he says, “You taste like chocolate.”This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

I blush, glancing at my bag, making sure it’s closed so he doesn’t see the few wrappers stuffed inside.