Twenty-One ~ A Dean Portman Fanfic

Sixteen

The brunette stood in the aisle of books, staring up the shelf to scout out the perfect one. Hair flowed down her back, her longer bangs pinned back by black butterfly clips she'd stolen from Gloria that morning. Every time her arm reached up to grab a book she thought she wanted, her skirt rose slightly in the back and she adjusted it every single time.

Her knit long sleeve wasn't tucked in, thus creating a small crop, and paired well with the sweater around her shoulders. The sleeves tied loosely on her chest, a casual yet preppy look many students on the higher end of the scale sported. Black knee high socks with a pair of black strapped heels finished her look, an outfit she absolutely loved wearing and switching the colors up.

She'd come on her own free time to the library after school to read a book without interruption. The backs of the books were paperback, hardcover or even leather depending on how old it was. She let her index run along the backings, finding a smile appear as she enjoyed reading.

The marvelous thing about reading is creating images in the head as she read, getting an eye for how the writer was sensing it as they wrote it. Sometimes a good book was the only medicine she needed or maybe an 80s teen rom-com from John Hughes, a nice indulge to both cure and break her loneliness.

Standing on her toes, feeling them ache the longer she rose, her fingers wiggled as she reaching for the book she wanted. Never having read it, but heard of it, she wanted to give it a try. A small groan escaped her lips as she couldn't reach it and began to grow mad at the fact it was a little too high for her reach.

She watched as a hand grabbed the book and the girl stepped down on her flat feet once again, stepping aside so whoever had grabbed the book had room. Disappointment flushed across her rosy cheeks as she huffed quietly when the person had taken the book she'd eyed for the last two minutes.

Next to her, the one person she didn't want to see smacked the backing of the book in his palm. He faced her and tapped the book in his hand as he read the title. "Great Gatsby." He rose a brow. "Never read it."

She hated the way he stood right there. She hated the way he could just walk up to her and talk as if everything was all right. She hated the way he looked so hot leaning against the book shelf. The way he casual read over the title as if he were smart made her hate it even more. The fact he made her upset didn't make her as mad because she expected to feel disappointment from him; it was something Dean Portman usually did.

"Hey," He spoke up, seeing she had walked away silently. The girl turned around the corner to find a different book on the shelf. "You can have the book."

She hated that he acted as if nothing was wrong, that the way he dismissed her so casually was normal.

Evangeline felt her throat close up with pain, holding her feelings back as she lifted her head. She tried ignoring both him and her feelings, but it was very hard to rid them. "Why're you here?" She turned sideway to look at him, her voice low as if it were crack; break.

"What?" He asked suddenly, taken back by what she'd asked him.

She lifted her head and looked the other way, feeling her lower lip quiver. She tried so hard to keep herself together.

"Sully-"

"No." She shook her head, not expecting herself to cut him off so sharply. Evangeline rubbed her arm, holding the sleeves of the sweater in front of herself. "You embarrassed me in front of them."

"It wasn't the first time." He explained and she rolled her eyes.

"You're unbelievable, Portman." She walked away from him with a hiss in her voice, looking through the rows upon books for something to read.