Maybe

4

Shay's POV:

"I'm scared, Chris." I tell him standing outside my maths class scared to write my Physics final.

"You're gonna do great, Shay." He says cupping my cheek.

"You called me Shay." I say with a wide smile.

He just gave a confused face to which I responded.

"You've always called me Shannon. Aside from my teachers, you were the only one who called me Shannon." I explain.

"Well, Shay. I know you will do great." He says and kisses the top of my head and I exhale heavily before walking into my worst nightmare.

Later...

Finally, the torture is over and the wash of relief thunderstorms over me.

Tomorrow is English and I just want to die. I hate English with all my life though I get good grades. I just hate English.

"Another movie night?" Lyla says sitting down.

"Hell no. I'm writing English tomorrow and there is no way I'm failing because if if I do, I can't manage the show anymore." Grace says, scowling.

"Right. If I fail English, Coach said he'll let the uni know of my bad grades and might take my scholarship." Brady points out.

"And you, Chris? Don't you have something you're stressing over?" Ally asks. Ally is the most laid back of all of us.

"I'm studying film." He simply states. "Due to the number of languages one can put in a video, you need to know other languages better than your own." He explains.

"Wow, what college is that?" Lyla says.

The anger and piss in me grows as I answer just as he opens his mouth.

"UCLA." I say through gritted teeth and stomp off.

I walk into this strange hallway I've never see before. But it looks comforting so I sit down.

"Hey." Chris says putting his hand on my thigh.

"Your school, university, let alone life is 2805.5 miles from mine. That's quite a distance. I'm terrified of the distance between us." I tell him as a tear slips down my face.

"It doesn't matter. We can Skype, and FaceTime-"he says but I stop him.

"I can't see if you cheat on me in California." I finally admit.

"What? You think I'd cheat on you?" He asks hurt.

I just look down.

"Why would you think that?" He asks.

"Your brother..." I say trailing off and his hand instantly moves from my leg.

"You actually think I'm like my brother? What do you think of me? I'm nothing like Crawford. I can't believe the little trust you have in me." He says and leaves.

I'm left in the hallway staring at the space where Christian once sat.

He has a point though, he could never be Crawford. He's so sweet and he's never judgemental. But right now, I have bigger things to worry about such as quoting Tolstoy.

Next day....

Couldn't Shakespeare had written in proper English? Gosh, would it kill you to write you instead of effing ye?

I'm sitting down at lunch when I see Brady's arm around Lyla's .

"Did I miss something here?" I ask them.