Blindsided

Part 24

Melanie

I'm going to his place.

My legs are walking themselves up the stairwell, my burning calves cursing the still-broken elevator. My mind is somewhere else though, somewhere far, far away. Somewhere new, different from anywhere I've ever wandered to before. Where everything feels as easy as walking along a cloud, smiles enveloping me at my every step.

But at the same time, it's scary.

For the first time in my life, I have no control over how I feel. My heart races out of control constantly, completely adverse to the screams tugging at my better judgement. 

I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to feel, how I should feel. Anything.

Engulfed in my own thoughts, my fist collides with the hardwood of his door, all too loudly. Oops. My eyes fall to stare at my feet, although a quick, soft click spins my head back. Our eyes lock instantly, my heart pausing its rough thudding momentarily.

"Hi." his voice is full of shallow breath as his arms rests against the doorframe. His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as his eyes rake over my face, taking me in as I do the same.

"Hi." I can barely hear my own voice over the thoughts rushing around my head. My hands feel clammy, and I wring them together as I stand awkwardly at his door. Bailey's mouth turns into a subtle grin as the both of us stay oddly silent, no words able to dictate how I'm feeling at this given point. My lips part involuntarily as I try to think of something to say other than a measly 'hi', but my brain feels like mush. Like a switch has been flipped, cutting off the proper functioning of my brains pathways. A switch that conveniently turns off whenever our eyes make its craved contact, against my own will.

"Come on in." Bailey opens the door wider, standing by its side. I smile, dropping my eyes as I quickly scuttle into his warm apartment. I hear the door click closed behind me, his soft footsteps daring my to turn around. I don't though, heading straight towards his kitchen table, chucking my stuff atop of it.

I'm here to work on the project. I remind myself of this as I fall anxiously into a softly padded dining chair, spreading my sweaty palms across my jean-covered thighs. With my eyes no longer focussed on Bailey's elongated, confident movements, my mind wanders back to my thoughts, the ones that won't stop jumping out at me.

Because, even as I'm sitting here, trying not to think about it, it doesn't feel like we're just working on a mandatory project anymore. I don't know how or when it happened, but I can feel it. My bones can feel it, the air can sense it.

Something has changed, and won't stop changing as the days fall away. Something scary, and so unpredictably out of character. Something I couldn't fathom myself even thinking a matter of months ago.

I like him, and his stupid British charm that refuses to leave me alone. I like being around him, spending time together.

I'm not saying he isn't an absolute pain in the ass, because he is. And even as I find myself experiencing these new feelings towards him, I can't ignore how weird this whole situation is. We've been each other's rivals, biggest irritation even, for the last 4 years. It's always been Melanie vs Bailey, Flores vs Whitlock, and everyone knows it.

So what changed?

"What's up?" my head snaps up, our eyes connecting instantly.

"Huh?"

"You've got that same look on your face when I made you run in the rain that one time. You're angry." he turns himself back towards rows of cupboards, where coffee mugs clink together as he busies himself in the kitchen. I bite back a soft laugh that dares to work its way up my throat, attempting to turn my expression back to something that could be classified as normal. Something don't-care like, used entirely to mask how I'm feeling.