thirty-six

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I pull down the sleeves of my shirt over my knuckles, staring at my turned off laptop. I glance up and watch as Joey walks in. I look away as he sees me, but feel my dread build as he walks towards my row, down the aisle, and sits next to me.

"Hey, Skylar."

I turn to him. "Hey,"

"Um, how have you been? Sorry I haven't talked to you in awhile."

I shrug. "I'm alright. Phone works both ways. How's basketball?"

"Good," He grins. "Uh, so, I'll see you later."

"Okay," I say, a bit confused by the short interaction. Seconds later, Wilbur sits down next to me.

"What did he want?"

I shrug and lift my hand up, scratching my neck. "He just said hi."

"Oh," He nods, glancing down at his phone. "Uh, sorry for looking through your book last night. That was shitty. I would be super pissed if you looked through my lyric book, so, sorry."

I wish I could tell him to let me look through his book to get even, but I know he won't. It would be nice, though, to see what he's writing about other girls. "It's okay."

We have a moment of silence, staring at each other. God, I'd do anything to just be able to kiss him right now. I could just lean over a bit and connect our lips and feel fine again. I could beg for him back, and maybe he'd take me. I was his first love.

I see his eyes glance down at my hands as my nails dig into my neck. "Your ring. You kept it?"

I remove my hand from my chest and look down at it, admiring the ring. Remembering when he gave it to me on my birthday. How insanely happy we were back then. "Of course. My necklace is in my room."

The professor starts the lecture, and Wilbur and I don't speak the rest of the class. When it's over, we exchange a few words before going out separate ways. As I'm heading to my art class, I text Claire.

Me: don't think ur plan worked

Claire: Well , more than likely, he's not going to just spring on you in the middle of class. Be a lil patient babe. Did he check out ur boobs?

Me: i dunno. maybe? i didn't watch his eyes the whole time. but we still acted awkward.

Claire: It's only awkward bc he still loves youuuuu

Me: yeah, sure.

I set my phone down as Madison arrives beside me. "Hey Skylar,"

"Hey," I glance at her, seeing she brought none of her supplies. "Why didn't you bring anything?"

"Did you not get his email?" She asks with a smile, spinning around on her stool. "He said class would take five minutes today. He's just giving us an assignment then ending it."

"What the fuck?" I mutter. I was always told by high school teachers that college profs would be way stricter, but they're already proved wrong on my second day of classes.

Madison shrugs and all of our attention shifts to the professor as he walks in, a mask on his face and a tissue box in his hand.

"I feel like shit!" He announces. "It was your sketches from Monday that made me feel this way. Congratulations! And to prove to me you're not worthless, I'm giving you your first assignment due on Monday. We're in New York City, and nearly everyone in this city thinks that they're special. That includes thinking they're going to be Grammy winning musicians in the next few years. Or Oscar winning actors, or whatever. So, instead of just a full portrait, make one of someone doing what they think makes them special, even though they're not even close to being one of a kind. Due on Monday!" And with no other words, he walks back out of the room.

"What does he even mean?" I ask Madison as we walk out, everyone else in the class asking the same question.

"I think, like, just draw someone doing their hobby. Like acting or singing or whatever." She grins. "I can draw Mark for this one. He's gonna be a director someday."

I just nod, knowing my only option is Wilbur. Claire and Maddie don't have any creative hobbies, and I wonder if Claire put the prof up to this. I definitely wouldn't put it past her. I say bye to Madison before heading up to my room, shocked as I walk in and see mom sitting on my bed. Looking through that sketchbook. God, I should just burn it.

"Hey mom," I say, setting my bag on my desk. "How did you get in here?"

"Claire let me in before she left." Well, thanks for the warning, Claire. "Honey, why are there pages of Wilbur? Are you alright? There's some... concerning phrases in here, too. You should come home if you're getting bad again, Sky."

"I'm fine," I tell her, taking my book and placing it in the bottom drawer of my desk. "He's just a good reference. And I just write stuff on pages sometimes."

"Honey, it's okay to admit if you miss him."

"I don't," I mutter, distracting myself by organizing my already perfectly clean desk. "We've both moved on and we're just friends now. Why are you here?"

I watch as she adjusts the pillows on my bed. "I just wanted to come say hi. I have to leave for work soon, but I wanted to see your room."

"Not too interesting," I say, sitting down next to her. I don't want to seem rude to my mom, but I also don't like her snooping around in my stuff. There's plenty of things in this room that she doesn't need to find.

"Your outfit is pretty." Mom tells me. At least someone acknowledges it. "You find any boys that are cute?"

I shake my head.

"Made any friends?"

"Just two. Claire has made, like, a million."

"Well, two is better than none." Mom squeezes my hand. "I guess I'll get out of your hair. I love you."

"Love you too," I tell her with a weak smile, kissing her cheek before she grabs her purse and walks out. I sigh and lie down, rubbing my face with my hands. I then remember my assignment, and for once, my brain makes a good point. If any of the other girls in my class knows they had a chance to stare at and draw a pretty boy like him, they're gonna flock onto him. I gotta make sure he's mine.

Me: hey

Wilbur: Hey

Me: my model study class is having us draw someone doing their hobby. idk why. but would you mind posing with your guitar for me? i can draw it quick

Wilbur: According to your book, you don't need me to model 🧐

Me: not funny.

Wilbur: Hahahah sorry. But yeah of course. I'm free the rest of the day after this class if that works? I can order us some dinner or something too if it takes that long.

Me: sure, sounds good. just lmk when u get out and i'll come to ur room.

I take a deep breath and sigh. I can't tell if there's a possibility that he still wants me, and I hate it. I hate not knowing. I'm scared to waste my time to just watch him fall for someone else. But I guess I might as well try.

He's the kind of guy I don't mind fighting for.

your city gave me asthma // Wilbur SootWhere stories live. Discover now