Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“How did I know you were going to say that?” I place my hands on my hips; his long sleeves are too large for me and hang over.
“What’s wrong with Star Wars?” He smiles, causing me to do the same.
“Nothing,” I shrug. “But I prefer Harrison Ford in the form of Indiana Jones.”
“Of course you do,” he laughs, and I don’t know where to look first - his mouth and the way it stretches and moves, or his eyes and the way they ignite. “And how did you know I’d be into Star Wars?” His smooth voice is laced with amusement, and I can’t help myself.
“Well, you’re clearly the sciencey type,” I wave my hands towards him, and he laughs again. It’s like music to my ears.
“Right, and what constitutes the sciencey type?” His grin is wide and his hips are swaying slightly. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we are almost flirting.
“You, being all into potions and chemicals, and weird sciencey stuff, like probably old body parts and-”
“And producing a mysterious spark,” he interrupts, continuing my sentence, his voice raspy and charmed. I smile and we both erupt with laughter. He clearly got my joke.
“I don’t create Frankenstein, contrary to popular belief,” he raises his eyebrow, and I take note on how it’s the first time he does this without some menacing context. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Damn,” I bit my lip, trying to contain my wide grin. “So what was the last movie you saw then?”
“Probably Planet Of The Apes, and okay, what’s with that face?” The way he’s still smiling does crazy things to me.
“Tim Burton?” I cringe.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“All of his movies look exactly the same!”
“He has a distinct look,” he argues. “Kind of like the one you’re giving me right now.”
I can’t help but laugh again, feeling like the idiot girl who’s standing in front of the guy she obviously has a crush on, who’s way out of her league.
“Well, I refuse to see it,” I sigh, trying to grasp my emotions. “I’m sure he’s done nothing but ruin a great novel and good movie from the 60’s.”
“Easy there,” he throws his hands up. “I didn’t say the movie was good. I just said it was the last one I saw.”
“Fair enough,” I roll my eyes.
“So what about you?”
“Princess Diaries,” I smile, and now it’s his turn to make a face. “I’m a sucker for Meg Cabot books,” I shrug.
“Never heard of her.”
“It’s sort of a chick thing.”
“So you’re into chick books and historical narratives?”
“I’m kind of into all books,” I clarify. “I’ll read anything.”
He starts to say something, but closes his mouth once everyone begins walking towards the school.
I’m disappointed and crushed.
This was going so well!
He’s sort of really fun to talk to.
He motions me forward once he notices everyone moving. “After you,” his head bows and his hands point in the direction of the school.
“Thanks for the jacket,” I slide it off as I start walking, handing it back to him. “See you later.”
He nods, taking it from me, and I give him one last smile before making my way inside. Can’t we please have another fire drill?
The one good thing about gym, (and I can’t even believe there IS a good thing), is that no one can tell when you’re late. Since we first have to change our clothes, the locker room is never actually locked, so as long as you’re ready and in the gym in a timely manner, it doesn’t matter if you’re a minute or two behind.
These past few days, after math, I’ve been taking the long, totally opposite, out of the way, way to the gym, just so I can pass by Mr. Harrington’s classroom. It isn’t far from the gym; it’s just not in the direction I need to go. It’s such a stupid thing I started to do, but ever since the fire drill, I realized I could see him earlier in the day. I don’t have to wait until the afternoon.
He hasn’t noticed me, thankfully, but I like to glance as I walk down his hallway, watching him sit at his desk between his first period lab and second period chemistry class, just knowing that he’s here, and that I’ll see him later. It’s oddly soothing, not to mention definitely borderline psychotic.
Today he’s outside his door talking to another student between first and second period. It’s some girl I don’t know, and it’s so obvious that she has a crush on him. I wonder if I look as ridiculous as she does when we talk.
Now I feel stupid.
I watch their conversation for a minute, cringing inside.
I have to change.
I really shouldn’t be going this way to the gym. It shouldn’t matter if he’s here or not. I shouldn’t feel my entire day brighten when I see him.