The Hippies and me

Musically linked

Flaking displays of how to read music curl around us as I am finally sat next to Max again. Mr Felic struts opposite us at the very front attempting to calm twenty nine very disappointed students. Power cuts this morning mean that he has to actually try and teach us rather than setting us free on the keyboards at the back. I am too busy beaming to be disappointed.
Delirium has set in. I was so sure that after the whole no Facebook revelation thing that Max would run to sit with anyone but me. Instead he looked straight at me and strolled to sit in the corner with ME. I'm trying not to think about how my skin can almost feel how close he is to me. Sat too still I'm too aware of my body and how I have been waiting to be reunited with this gorgeous American since last Tuesday. Max isn't in any of my other classes because I'm three sets above him in every other subject but in a very unhip pie fashion I am not at all musical! So here we sit. As the rest of the class clatter around us I'm straining to think of a topic to get Max talking but he seems distracted.

'How cringe  was Mrs Howard thing morning?' I blurt out. Max looks now confused and distracted and I hate to admit it is not a great look for him, he looks caveman-chic.

' We she called Finlay O'Dowd in year 7 'Dude' and asked where he likes to hang?.'

'Ha yeah,' Max offers.

'What were your teachers in America like?' You can see I'm struggling here- what kind of idiot picks to talk about the most boring thing on earth teachers to a hunk from America?!

'Um, pretty lame. Well, I'm except I had this well fit PE teacher. Miss Formbelle.' Distracted slowly sets into wistful as I try to clamour over a new topic to distract Max from is lost hot teacher but he gets in first.
'She coached the rugby team as well. A truly cool chic.'
My next thirty minutes is spent listening to Max talk about his time with the rugby squad. Two of his stories featured throwing his jock strap at his friends and one took place entirely at his ex girl friends house who was 'totally not cool about his need to be with the team.'
As Mr Felic sloped over to check on us I welcomed, for the first time in my life, a moment to focus on music work.
Maybe Max and I weren't destined to have that wedding at Hale Manor and parent three perfect puppies together before embarking on a tour of Europe with backpacks bigger than us. Maybe Max wasn't to be the one reading me all the poetry about how obsessed he was with me.
I need to regroup with Andrea in French next and see what she thinks. Maybe I can get past Max's lack of charisma?

He is shuffling in his seat, bringing his leg closer to mine, his arm closer to mine resting on the table. Our arm hairs are almost touching. Thrills run though my body tensing it with exhilaration. His perfectly straight hair tilts towards me as he parts his mouth to speak holding my gaze with a look of lust.

'Callie?'

'Yeah?'

' Can I look at your answers? I'm not really like into school.'

'Yeah I suppose.'

'Thanks babe, I knew sitting next to you would be worth it.'

Oh my god! Look of lust? More like the look of a loser! I needed French with Andrea to hurry the hell up! Worth it?! Max was officially uninvited to our backpacking honeymoon.