Tate

Chapter | 2

                            Chapter | 2

        Unsurprisingly, Tate Moore had charisma and talked Princapal Woodrow out of suspending him. I watched him walk out of his office after fourth period with a grin on his face. He didn't notice me, of course, no one does.

        I kept hidden in a doorway, near the lockers. He didn't spare me a glance as he strode out of the room, not that I really minded.

        He was just an interesting person.

        I went home after that, sliding into my brother's car as he flirted away with a cheerleader. I busied myself with a book until he slid into the driver's side and drove me home.

        When I woke up the next day, I dressed in a denim button-up that reached my thighs and some leggings before walking to school. My backpack swished from side to side, dangling over one shoulder as I hopped up the steps to the front door.

        Tate himself was leaning against the wall near the front office with his phone in his hands. His friends chattered around him, but his earphones drowned them out. 

        The boy he'd fought with the previous day was absent of course. I didn't see him in my English class. I almost snorted when I saw his empty desk.

        When lunch time rolled around, I weaved through the crowd in the opposite direction. The librarian offered a smile when I appeared in the doorway. I found a table and pulled a blue book from my backpack as I took a seat.

        Soon the sounds outside of the library began to fade, the magority of the school in the cafeteria. I flipped to the spot in the book with a dollar bill caught between the pages and stuffed the money into my pocket. 

        Twenty minutes into reading the masterpiece that was 'The Fault in Our Stars' a voice startled me from my reading. 

        "You're beautiful." My head shot up, the book falling from my hands and the slight laugh I'd let out when reading died in my throat.

        My eyes widened at the boy sitting across from me as he popped a cherry into his mouth. His blue eyes flickered towards the librarian's desk as he chewed, as if making sure she wasn't watching him.

        I blinked, not believing that he was actually sitting across from me. 

        "W-what?" I choked in surprise. He took another cherry from the pile on the table, taking it between his fingers as he glanced back at me.

        "You're beautiful when you read. The expressions on your face - I could watch you all day." He said, plopping the red fruit onto his tongue.

        "Uh . . ." I was completely lost. 

        "You're never at lunch. You never eat." He pointed out, surprising me yet again. "So, I brought you some cherries."

        He pushed the napkin to the center of the table. I stared down at the pile, completely dumbfounded. One rolled off the top, it traveled over the surface of the table to bounce off my thumb. 

        "I took out the seeds." He said, leaning back to watch me.

        My eyes flickered up to his face, wondering if this was some sort of joke.

        His gaze moved from the cherries to my face and back again several times. When he finally decided that I wasn't taking any, he said, "You think I don't see you, Poppy Dawson, but I do." 

        Then he rose from his chair and left,  leaving me to stare after him - baffled.