The Guardian

Chapter Seven

I was sitting on my bed staring at myself in the mirror.

I wasn’t ready for this.

My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding as I watched the minutes go by on the clock below my TV.

6:58 changed to 6:59.

7:00.

He wasn’t here yet, of course. He was Brian Cassidy. Not once has he been on time to class, or anywhere for that matter. Except maybe football practice. Carelessly late should be his slogan. Except for tonight.

Tonight, he was fashionably late.

At 7:15, my doorbell rang. I watched my reflection as her eyes bugged out of her head, her hazel irises appearing greener due to the extra makeup I had applied earlier. She wasn’t me.

Would he notice? I wondered. Maybe. But then I remembered he wouldn’t care, either.

I slowly stood up off my bed and made my way downstairs, fixing my hair and smoothing my shirt, trying to look perfect. But I wasn’t perfect, I thought as I approached the door, unsure of what had come over me.

I opened the door, coming face to face with this beautiful creature. A snapback tamed his signature messy brown locks as he smiled down at me, his deadly green eyes almost flickering like a candle under the porch light. Dressed in jeans and a dark grey shirt, the first few buttons open, giving me a clear view of his toned chest. Not surprised, I thought.

“Hi,” he said, winking at me.

My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t quite sure why, though. Alison O’Connor does not get attracted to the cocky, look-at-how-hot-I-am bad-boy type.

Whatever happened tonight between me and Brian Cassidy wouldn’t really matter. Because the girl he’s staring at right this moment isn’t me.

I smiled sweetly. “Come in.”

He followed me over to the living room where I had the packet and my laptop set up.

“So please tell me you uh, kinda understand Shakespeare,” he said with a chuckle, flashing his perfect grin.

“Yeah, I’d say I kinda understand him,” I giggled.

“Good. So uh, where do we start?” he asked. I grabbed his packet and flipped to the start of the scene, pointing to his first line. “Oh, okay.” He cleared his throat. “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun,” he read, looking into my eyes. I swallowed hard as he continued. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.” I watched his lips move as Romeo’s words flew off his tongue without hesitation. He looked up at me as he finished reading, and I stared at him in awe. “It’s your turn now,” he said softly, causing my cheeks to flush pink.