Just Knowing You

Chapter 3: Genevieve

Okay, eye contact.

Ugh, I haven't stopped thinking about that stupid eye contact. Sitting in my bedroom, alone I just finished my homework and I'm sitting here thinking looking Otis Grey in his eyes. How irrational am I?

Okay, focus G! Just forget about it, it doesn't mean anything, maybe it didn't even happen and you're just imagining it. That happens all the time. (Not really).

Does it though? Because I could've sworn what I think happened, actually happened to me. In real life. At school. Today.

It's fine, maybe I had something on my face. Wait... Did I have something on my face? Oh god... I bet my mascara was messed up or I was walking weirdly. Or breathing too heavily. Gosh, dang it.

You're fine. You looked great. And you need to calm down for god's sake...

It's fine he probably makes eye contact with lots of people in the halls and I happened to be walking in the halls at the same time he was because it wasn't very busy. It doesn't mean he likes me or anything. That's insane.

I do my best to push through the thoughts racing through my mind as I get up from my desk and sit on my bed with my textbook to start studying.

Apparently, history is my best class this semester, so far, YAY.

Honestly, I'm not a big fan of history, it's so boring. OKAY, we get it; a bunch of boring old white guys with curly white wigs 'found' America, then tortured the people who actually found it and made a day to celebrate themselves for it.

Stupid.

It's nonetheless my easiest class, but I wish we learned other things that were important in history, rather than some bs they lied to us about.

Well, I guess I can't have everything because here I am reading about stupid Christopher Colombus on my bed, cursing him out in my mind as if he can actually hear me from six feet under as a skeleton.

HAH, take that. Sorry Chrissy, guess it's your loss.

Anyways, sorry that took a turn.

I get maybe 20 minutes of reading and note-taking done when I hear a ding from my phone telling me dinners ready from my mom. I hop down the hallway taking a right to lead myself down the stairs to follow the garlicy smell of whatever she made.

Almost every night we have a family dinner with everyone - my mom, dad, brother, and sister - sitting around the table talking and eating, which sounds cool I guess but since my sister and brother left for college it's pretty quiet.

I hate dinners now.

I'd never been one to talk a lot through dinner, I'd make an occasional one-liner, or joke in response to something said and I'd just listen.

Now my mom and dad make conversation, letting me in occasionally, for a one-word response. Otherwise it's quiet.

They'll talk about work, or some drama happening with their friends and/or their friends' kids, sometimes.

Tonight we're talking about how Mr. Roberts was having an affair with the widow in the house across from them, while he was still married to Mrs. Roberts.

Mrs. Roberts isn't taking it well I hear, and has asked him to move out all of his stuff and 'stay at a motel for the rest of his life'. Honestly go her. Don't put up with a man like that.

I feel really bad for Ms. Atkins - the widow - though too. Mr. Roberts probably took advantage of her when she was in a very bad state, which is never okay.