The Run ©2014 Sydney Wray

Chapter 27

A/N: I updated earlier because of Thanksgiving, so Happy Thanksgiving!

He watched me uneasily as I racked my brain for an appropriate answer. 

What do I say? I had never been asked this question before, and I've been only been kissed by-ahem- him, and he didn't exactly ask me.

A swirl of a memory swooped in and I blinked furiously.

I didn't need to say anything before Nathaniel placed a hand on my jaw; swooping in and pressing his lips to mine. It was as if all the tension between us that has built up, was being executed in this moment. He continued to kiss me, as he gently pushed me back onto the wall. My hands roamed the back of his head, than I wrapped them around his neck-

"Lindsey?" Todd asked, unexpectedly inches from my face and waiting for an answer.

A slight breath hitched in my throat, and I suddenly felt claustrophobic. I numbly stepped backwards,  hurt flashing across his face. I mean, I had just started to know him again. I need time to.. What exactly? Move on? Get to know this very handsome boy in front of me? I didn't know.

I shook my head and my lips parted to say something. He pressed his lips together in a firm line and looked down.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's me." I quickly substituted. "Another time?"

He looked at me, dumbfounded. "Sure."

And we continued on our walk back to the cars.

~~~~~~~~

Thanksgiving, I wrote. Commemorates a feast held in 1621 by the pilgrims and the Wampangoag. It's the precious time in which families gather, and give thanks as to everything they cherish.

I ended with a triumphant period and shoved my pen back in my bag. Holding the remaining of my essay up to the dull light, I grinned in relief. I was done.

"You're done with that already?" Tanya stood by my door, peering at my paper.

Tanya was in my English class, even though she was younger. Apparently her English skills were advanced, and my school rewarded her of twelfth grade English.

"Yep." I looked at her, "And no, you cannot copy my paper."

She puckered out her lower lip. "Aw, come on. Mrs. Dempsey won't know a difference. She can barely read her own handwriting."

I laughed. It was true; most of the students created a rumor that she was ninety-six, but obviously that wasn't true. Eighty at most. "She's not stupid. Go write your own."

She sighed, flicking her ponytail. "Fine. Oh, by the way. How does thanksgiving work around here?"

I swiveled toward her on my chair and nodded. "We basically just have a regular sit-down Thanksgiving dinner. Nothing special."

Tanya nodded. "What about Christmas?"

"Tree, decorations, presents from people who feel bad for us. The usual." I filled in the information, watching her reactions.

"Yep, I've had that since I was thirteen."

I parted my mouth. "Really? That's when you were put into Foster Care?"

Tanya nodded. "My mom didn't have the maturity to take care of me."

I cocked my head but she held up a hand. "You don't want to know."