Chapter 14:
Beckinsile's Point of View
"Becks, I like that you trusted me enough to tell me the truth." Oliver has a shy look in his eyes.
"Are you blushing, Oliver Marshall?" I smirk at him.
"I've never been this mushy before and it's hurting my manly pride." He says as he grabs my hand.
"You're so funny," I roll my eyes and intertwine our fingers.
We begin to walk towards French after spending lunch in the library. I don't feel awkward anymore; Oliver has a calming effect on me. I knew I was taking a leap of faith by telling him that I like him but it paid off I guess.
We take our normal seats in the very front row as the rest of the class files in. Madame Rousseau has on her usual expression, which is next to none. She brings the class to attention with a loud clap and begins our lesson. I try to focus my attention on her which is hard considering I feel like doing a million back flips up and down the hallway.
Madame Rousseau's mouth is a taut line, amplifying the wrinkles in her face and she looks pained as she hands out textbooks. We're instructed to read a chapter and complete the practice exercises at the end. I smile at Oliver as I begin my work. Why was I ever opposed to this?
~~~~~
Oliver offered to drive me home but I told him that I should probably ride home with Ed. He said he'd call me and then took off towards his bike. I smile like a dumb schoolgirl until the loud honk of a horn ruins my daydream.
"Beckinsile, get in the car." Ed says with abundant humor.
I roll my eyes and slip into shotgun.
"So, what's the story with you and Oliver?" Ed smirks as we pull into an intersection.
"Why do you want to know?" I wiggle my eyebrows at him as he turns down my street.
"Fiona started ranting about how she saw you two in the library when she was checking out a book for Ms. Crandall, during our third period."
"We like each other." I roll my eyes and look out the window.
"Oh do you now?" Ed says as we finally pull up in front of my house.
"Yes, but keep that little piece of info to yourself." I point my finger at him and unlock the passenger's side of the car.
"Whatever you say, Detective Williams." Ed shrugs as we walk up to my front door.
The minute I open the door, Ed runs to the kitchen. I follow him and we begin our daily ritual of snacks and binge watching TV.
~~~~~
"No, I can't talk now, Oliver. I need to finish my homework. Can't you call at 11 P.M.? God knows I'll still be up," I chuckle and press my phone to my shoulder as I try to write down some ideas for the last part of our marketing project.
"You wouldn't've picked up if you didn't want to talk to me..." I can almost feel Oliver smirking.
"I was being polite," I write down an idea and then toss my notebook to the side.
"No, you wanted to talk to me, simple as that, Beckinsile." I can hear the sinking of a bean bag on the other end which I'm guessing is where Oliver decided to sit and finish our conversation.
"Oliver Marshall," I scold, get up off my bed and go searching for my math textbook.
"What? The truth hurts sometimes, Becks." Oliver says in a teasing tone.
YOU ARE READING
Some Wounds Never Heal
Teen Fiction**Watty Honorable Mention/Undiscovered Gem** He lies awake in bed, thoughts of her still overpowering his brain. He wants her back lying next to him. He needs to feel her touch just one last time and maybe then he could move on. But that's not possi...
