Pretty Boy In Love

|4| Liplockings, Lies, and Sob Stories

"How was your first day?" I ask Rosie, putting a smile on my face as I meet up with her in the hallways.

All I can hope is that her day went better than mines. First days are always exciting with the perfect touch of nervousness, but today was just plain boring. Probably because everyone is awful and they consider me 'normal' which is apparently not worth speaking to here.

"Great." She sounds a bit nervous, but I disregard it. "Do you think you could wait outside for a few moments? I want to talk to the teacher about joining cheerleading."

I want to tell her that she hasn't danced for a minute in her life, but she's already long gone before I can even open my mouth. Slinging my backpack over my shoulders, I turn around and happily straight into a nose-full of vanilla cologne. I back away, revealing the yummy-smelling dude. It just had to be Noah, how luck am I today? He stands there with an irresistible smirk and a manly hand on my shoulder.

"Better watch where you're going or you might just run into the world's ugliest guy. You don't have to thank me fore not being ugly, but I accept cash or credit." He winks, taking his hand off. 

If he still had his hand on me I don't think I would be able to speak. "Keep dreaming, pretty boy." I smile to let him know that I'm only kidding. The worse thing is when someone doesn't understand your sarcasm and they get all excited of offended and you have to stand there awkwardly explaining what sarcasm is. Happens countless times with my gran, who thinks sarcasm is just another way for teenagers to rebel against their family. She has a panic attack everytime I use it, which is a lot.

We walk out of the school together, making a couple of girls glare at me. After getting down the steps of the front of the school, Noah runs into one of his, I guess, girl friends? Note the space between girl and friend, please. 

Anyways, he says a big hello by wrapping arms around each other and playfully teasing each other about something. I feel the same twinge that I felt when he was eye-raping Rowan at lunch. The girl is big−but not over-weight big−volleyball player big with the wide shoulders and athletic build. She has blonde hair a shade lighter than mines and carried a baseball bat, which scared the death out of me. I'm not accustomed to giant girls carrying hard metal object, sorry.

Whenever Noah smiles, I feel her eyes light up and vice-versa. Whatever it is, I feel a lot of sexual tension between them.

"Coach is goinna be pissed if I don't get my ass to the field, so I'll see you later Noey." She kisses Noah on the cheek and leaves. I notice that she and Noah have matching heights, so that kiss on the cheek really only required her to lean. I am at least 2 inches shorter than him, but why does that matter again?

Blowing his hair out of his eyes, Noah apologizes, "Sorry bout' Dani. It's her last year here and we want to hang out as much as possible before she's off to college."

"Is she your girlfriend?" I regret it the minute it spill out like a 4 year old's rotten milk. Every aspect of the question was wrong. I mean, since when is it my business to wonder about other people's love life? SINCE WHEN DID I START CARING?

"She is actually. She lives with my father and I because her parents died years ago and my mom was signed to be her god-mother." He replies to my question with so much ease, I start to ease out too, the blush getting fainter. "Dani's a senior, of course, but I like them a bit older."

I nod as if all of the is interesting, but inside I feel the sinking feeling of a pit. Of course he has a girlfriend. It would be weird if he didn't! It's so unlike me to get my hopes high.

I think back to Dani and almost throw up. This is not at all the kind of girl I imagined Noah with, but I may be biased. She's not ugly, but she's not particularly pretty either. In fact, she looks a bit too boyish. I always thought Noah would be with some super-model with long, skinny legs and hair that you would see in a Pantene commercial, not a roughed up baseball player.