3 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒛𝒛 𝒄𝒖𝒕

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PRESENT, BEACON HILLS

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟏

I rummage through my bag as I walk down the hall to my next class. I push notebooks aside, looking for my sketchbook.

"Please be in here," I mumbled.

I stopped in the middle of the hall, pulling my bag to my chest and digging through it again, looking for the lavender book.

A breath escapes my lips when a chest connects with my shoulder, and I drop my bag. I sighed as everything spilled to the floor. I look up and stare at dark brown eyes, the same one from last night.

"Sorry," He rushed out, dropping to the floor. "I didn't look where I was going because I was avoiding my best friend."

I crouched and slowly picked up my notebooks.

"He let my dad get hit by a car, which he could have stopped. But he decided to focus on his girlfriend. I understand because he's never had a girlfriend, but I didn't think it would change him."

I couldn't help but smile at him. He grabbed my sketchbook from the floor and put it in my bag before getting to his feet.

"Like he's known my dad longer...." He continued. He paused and looked at me. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

I grabbed my bag from his outstretched hand, putting the rest of my notebooks inside. "Yeah," I swung my bag onto my shoulders. "But it's kinda cute."

"W-What?" He stuttered and looked down before looking up at me. "I mean..."

I stared at him as his mouth opened, but no words came out.

I think he's in shock, and I find it cute for some reason.

I never really took an interest in boys because I knew I would be leaving before the end of the year. I should have ignored him, this boy whose name I didn't know, but for some reason, I didn't. I wanted to hear him ramble again, but I didn't know why.

"The guy speechless is my spastic best friend." A voice called out.

I turned my gaze away to find Scott staring at me. "I see," I turned back to Scott's best friend. "Does he have a name, or should I call him Scott's best friend?"

The boy cleared his voice. "Stiles. My name is Stiles."

Stiles.

"Well, Stiles, thanks for the help," I said.

"Yeah, well, you know it wasn't a big deal," Stiles stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

He didn't meet my gaze.

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐊𝐈 | (𝟏)Where stories live. Discover now