The Dimple Project [Camp NaNoWriMo 2015]

T W O

Jace stupidly applies to the fact that he 'saved' me the other day would equal making me his friend. Only he didn't really save me since my relationship with my biology teacher has plummeted. I will blame him for everything if I ever fail this class. But it's not like I can ever fail with a 121.5 (there was a lot of lame extra credit). Jace is talking to me more now and my peaceful days in class are becoming less and less frequent.

"Can I copy your work, Jenn?" He asks, leaning over me to look at the paper I am working on. I feel like punching him.

Normally, when people don't reply, it would mean that they don't want to talk to person A who is trying to make conversation with them. Person A should back off and mind their own business for a while and not annoy person B. Jace doesn't have enough common sense for that, further annoying me by poking me with his pencil--and I hate poking.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce." It must have taken him by surprise for some reason. He looks completely awestruck. I know I am just amazing but I really don't like people looking at me like that (adding to the point that he is also annoying and is trying to copy off my work) so I kick him. Really, I did.

"I think so, too," He smirks, clutching his knee.

Maybe I was doubting it before but now I am really sure that there is something wrong with his head. He's smirking when I kicked him. And I said I kick like a man last time, I really do kick like a man. Running does really pay off. But Jace is a bad boy after all, he probably gets into a lot of fights and stuff like that. Things like hitting doesn't really bother him much, then. That's great, I now have a new punching bag.

"Are you an ostrich because it seems like your brain is the size of your eye if you can't even do this work by yourself," I retort. He grins at my insult instead of being provoked.

"You can say that," He nods. I sigh and then, seeing that it doesn't help relieve anything, move on to a big exasperated groan.

"Just leave her alone, you moron," Oliver steps in to save the day.

"What are you, her bodyguard?" his tone is challenging but softer, more teasing.

"It's called a friend but since you don't have very many--or actually, none at all, you wouldn't know," She sticks her tongue out at him. I commend her for her great comebacks. Behind the comeback, however is a slight smile.

"Do that again and you'll be receiving a french kiss." Jace winks at her and her face goes bright red as she throws her notebook at him. "Don't worry, I'm quite skilled at doing stuff like that. Unlike someone."

"You're such a freaking douche!" Oliver throws her pencil at him next. Jace only laughs as Oliver, with a tomato face still, stomps over and argues. When she finally calms down she makes her way back to her seat and scoots her chair in loudly.

I've never seen Oliver so discomposed before. She's usually a really happy and bright person but often times, when it comes to Jace, she gets rowdy all of a sudden. Could it be . . . No way, Oliver is too much of a good . . . fairly good girl to like someone like that. Oliver doesn't go to parties even though she wants to, doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, gets good grades, I think that's enough to say she's a good girl.

Why would Oliver, a sweet girl like Oliver, like Jace? I shove the idea out of my mind, catching up on the things I missed while zoning out.

Both of us are already finished with our work and she puts her head down and sleeps--only her head is facing Jace's direction, her eyes briefly opening and closing again. Oy. Over on Jace's side, he's laughing and joking with his friends while peeking over at her from the corner of his eyes. Oy.