The Makeover

5

Edited

    "Everything you want is on the other side of fear."

Jack Canfield

   Jake and I walked arm in arm until we reached our English Literature class which we also happened to have together. It had only been about two days that I had started talking to him again, but it was as if all the friendship from so many years ago resurfaced.

He was surprisingly easy to talk to, which was rare since I usually found it hard to talk to anyone.

I went straight to the back and Jake followed taking his seat beside me. "So, you're seriously saying that you'd prefer Star Wars over Star Trek?" He asked incredulously, continuing the conversation we had been having outside.

"Obviously!" I exclaimed. "I've watched all the episodes at least five times. And have you seen Han Solo? He was my very first fictional crush."

"Star Trek is so much better." He protested, furrowing his brows adorably. "The storyline gets me every time."

"Believe what you want, Jakey boy." I shrugged and then burst out laughing when I saw his embarrassed face at the nickname. "Someone's getting red in their cheeks." I teased and he immediately placed his hands on his cheeks.

"How would you like if I called you K-bear." He complained a little. "I bet you wouldn't like it."

I smiled softly, touched that he remembered my nickname for him when we were children. "You're right actually. I wouldn't like it, I'd love it." I said honestly.

He looked up, no longer embarrassed and smirked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I confirmed.

"Well, consider it your new second name then." He chuckled.

"Done and dusted." I smiled happily just as the bell rang.

"You're really pretty when you smile, you know." He whispered next to me as the teacher walked in.

He did just compliment me, right?

An immediate blush dawned on my cheeks and the words that came so easily before struggled to come out. I just hoped that I turned away quick enough for him to hide the blush.

The class then started, and I was glad because I had no idea what to say.

***

It had been about thirty minutes into the lesson and we were taking down notes about a book of our choice when a paper landed on my notebook. I stopped in the middle of a sentence and stared at the note on my desk in confusion. I snatched it from where it was before the teacher noticed and opened it.

It read:

What's your favourite colour? Please tell me it's red. It looked good on your cheeks.

J

I gasped and in response, my stupid cheeks did exactly as he had stated. They blushed. So, he had noticed. Damn.

I sighed and failed at forcing my cheeks to stay the same colour. I scribbled down an answer on the paper.

Even after Jake pointed out my red-cheeked weakness, I felt smug when I figured out a good enough comeback.

It's blue. What's yours? Does it happen to be brown? Because with all the poop you speak, it must be, right?

K