“nick, great news. angela is sitting with us at lunch today,” i say, sliding into my seat next to his. i give him a smile and begin taking out my notebook as though the thing i just said was actually possible.
“whoah there, blake. back it up. did you just say angela was sitting with us today?” he says, his black eyes growing wide. i always tease him about how the reason he can’t get a date is because every time someone looks in his eyes it’s like they’re swallowing your soul. they’re black. pitch black. kind of freaky, if you ask me.
“eeyup. she sure is. don’t freak out.” i say. either he doesn’t hear me, or he just chooses not to acknowledge it, because he definitely freaks out.
“---the one with the super hot bod and the perfect tee--” he stops mid-sentence when the teacher taps her fake fingernail on the corner of his desk.
“mr. scott. i’m going to need you to be quiet, please.” she says, looking at nick over the top of her glasses. he nods, and you can visibly see him shrink into his desk chair.
“‘m sorry, mrs. braime.” he mumbles. mrs. braime nods and heads back to her seat to spend the rest of the five-minute passing time staring at the blue district background.
nick’s parents were both born in the united states, despite their korean culture. they’re also very strict about who comes and doesn’t come to their house. and unfortunately, they only partly approve of me. meaning i’ve only gone over to nick’s about four times in the ten or so years we’ve known each other. they’re also very strict about nick’s grades. being the only child and all, his grades have to be above average or, well, they sort of just have to be. the last time his grade dropped to a B- (in economics) he had to spend lunch in the classroom for two weeks.
----------------------------------------------------
“why aren’t you shaking? because i’m definitely shaking. i mean,” he holds up his hand (which, was indeed shaking,) for me to see. “i am shaking.”
“well, i’m not. it’s probably a one time thing,” sure, i wasn’t shaking, but i swear my heart was ready to digest itself. either that, or i’ll suffer from a minor heart attack by the time i even get to the lunchroom. between my dream last night, and the fact that i’m eating lunch with angela freaking case. i mean, this is a once in a lifetime deal, folks. well, at least for people like us.
“still, a one time thing is more than a no time thing,” nick enforces. he’s practically running circles around me, as well as talking a hundred miles per hour, something he does when he’s nervous. the only reason that i’m able to decipher his language is because we’ve been practically inseperable since the day he gave me his banana from lunch, “therefore, this is a big time thing.”
“alright, alright. she might not even show up. i mean ---” i enter the lunchroom, and my eyes attract like metal to a magnet to our table, where, sure enough, angela case is sitting, directly across from where nick and i usually sit.
on either side of our usual spot, there sat some other dweebs nick and i are acquaintances with. ‘but blake, you sit by them. aren’t you guys friends?’ no, not necissarily. in middle and high school, people can sit at the same table as you, but you don’t even have to know people’s names. normal people keep to their own group most of the time, unless something comes up. in this case, angela.
“um -- i’m... going to go eat lunch,” i hear nick mutter quickly from beside me. i reach my hand over to grab him by the arm, but he’s already long gone. abandon a brother, why don’t you? i sigh, before making my way over to where we usually sit, my heart rate elevating with every step.
YOU ARE READING
never letting you go
Teen Fictionsometimes, when you meet the one your supposed to be with, you know. you know you're going to love them forever. you know you'll spend the rest of your life holding their hands as you jump through hoops together. you just know. that's how it was wit...
