Being herself has never been a challenge for Nyla until high school, where bitches, boobs and boys invades the minds of everyone... Well, everyone except her, of course.
Nyla never cared much about any of the three B's until she grew conscious of h...
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If I could flunk out of the play, I would. Because that would mean not seeing Austin more often than I needed to. And since rehearsals were every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, that meant three times for the week.
The text message had been on my mind all day, and now I had the nastiest headache. To make it worse, I had to now endure two hours of rehearsals, and I knew without a doubt that Austin would try to talk to me and stay close to me throughout most—if not all—of it, since he didn’t cast himself in the play.
Speak of the devil.
“Nyla,” Austin said as he approached me. I instinctively pulled my stool back as he leaned against the wall. “I thought you wanted us to walk here together,” he said.
I shrugged. “My last class for the day was moved, and I think it was quite simple to find the drama room.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly fine,” I mumbled, though I was the complete opposite. I knew the mature thing to do was simply ask him about the message. But what right did I have anyway? It’s not like we were dating or anything.
I was just a momentarily rebound girl. And that’s okay. Shit happens.
“Are you … is it that … that time of the month?” he whispered, leaning closer to me. I caught a whiff of his scent. And, gosh, why did he have to drive me so crazy?
“I’m not on my period,” I said. “I just have a headache.”
His face brightened. “Oh, why didn’t you just say so? I can get rid of it for you,” he said before holding my head in his hands and resting his thumbs against my forehead. “Close your eyes.”
Although it was against my better judgement, I did as he said.
As he massaged my temples and filled my senses with his scent, all I could see were flashes of the message I had seen earlier and pictures of Becca.
Yes, I did it.
I Instagram-stalked her.
In Math today, I slid my phone in my lap and found her through Austin’s page. I knew it was a different level of crazy and sad, but the budding and gnawing curiosity to know what she looked like ate at me until I really had no choice but to search for her.
It wasn’t hard. All I did was go to Austin’s “following” since most of his ten thousand “followers” would obviously be people he had no connection to. The “following” only entails two hundred people, of which I’m sure were his friends, confidants and, in this case, his girlfriend.
