Bear With Me

Chapter 9

Skylar POV

We were doing our homework, Ashton and I. It was nice, actually. For the first time, I feel like he is a nice person. We laughed, talked, and made fun of other teachers. After all, we are in the same science and Social Studies classes.

Hanging out with Ashton made me a little softer, but that still doesn't keep me from beating up people who don't like my sister. I might not be there for her sometime. She would have to do it herself. But putting all that aside, I'm happy.

I pushed my hair out of my face, and I pushed my glasses back. Stretching, I yawned and glanced at Ashton, who was looking at me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked him.

"The person behind you." He said sarcastically. "It's obviously you."

"Why?"

"Why should I not look at you?"

"It's weird."

"Why is it?"

"Just because it is."

He inched closer to me, and sat right next to me. Our elbows were touching, and I could feel his gaze on my face. I didn't know how close we were until I turned my head to look at him. We were so close. Our noses were almost touching, about a few centimeters away. I looked into his beautiful brown eyes, to see that they held the same emotion I saw this morning. I didn't know what it was.

Out of all the sounds that I could hear– the birds chirping outside, the warm breeze blowing, the sound of the air conditioning, the sounds of Bree and Andre laughing– there was only one sound that was bothering me. The sound of my heart beat.

Usually when I run for about fifteen minutes straight, my heart beats at this rate. But without doing anything, just sitting next to him, my heart is beating at the same rate. There were butterflies in my stomach, just an explosion of them, tickling the inside of my stomach with their delicate wings.

I didn't know if I wanted to move away from him or not. My heart tells me to sit right there, next to him, and not move an inch from where I am right now. My brain, on the other hand, is telling me to do the total opposite. My brain tells me to move all the to the other corner of the bed, and turn around, and don't look at him again.

Stay there, Skylar, my heart says. You want this. You like it.

No, Skylar, you don't like him, my brain tells me. Get away from him, now. You'll regret it later.

Mom used to tell me– and she still does, but not as often– follow your heart, she says. If you do, you'll be happy. I chose to agree with Mom. I will follow my heart, because this, at the end, will make me happy. I know. I could feel it coming my way.

I looked back into his eyes, which were so calm, and filled with tranquil. That's when I remembered, this morning. The kiss. My gaze unconsciously fell on his lips, and I saw how close they were to mine. I could practically feel his breath on my lips. His warm breath made a shiver dance up my spine. His lips inched closer to mine slowly, and I found myself leaning in as well.

In less that a second, I felt his lips on mine, moving against mine like they were made for my lips. I found myself mimicking the same movement that he was doing. His lips were soft, and comfortable. His hands were on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. One of my hands were on his shoulder, while the other one cupped his cheek. The kiss was passionate, and it was still going, until something happened.

I doing know if I should call it tragic, or a good thing. I suddenly heard the door open, and I gasped softly and I pushed him gently. Our eyes darted to the door, to see Mom standing right there, with a small smirk ready to play on her lips. I gulped, knowing that my hands are currently on his chest, and his hands are on my waist, and we were so close to each other. If we turn our faces to look at each other, we would be kissing again.