Page 69 of Infinity Chronicles 1
Feeling the weight of my backpack shift, sliding a little off my shoulder, I look behind me. Milo is there and he’s lifting the strap I don’t have slung on my shoulder. I feed my arm through the loop he’s holding out, not even realizing I had only been using one, like I had to with my bag. Once it’s secured he steps back away from me, letting me continue to the entrance doors.
Guilt at my behavior stabs at my chest. I open my mouth to apologize, but I catch sight of all the curious faces around us, so I snap my lips together and nod instead. I’ll tell him later.
Near the end of second hour the girl next to me in the aisle leans over and whispers, “So, you know Milo, huh?” I glance at her, wondering where this is going. Am I going to have another Delany on my hands?
“A little I guess.” I keep my voice quiet because I don’t want to draw any more attention.
“He’s going to take us to state.” Her words are spoken kinda dreamy, like she’s already fantasizing about the prospect.
“Oh, you mean football?” I’m sure she can tell I’m a little shocked from my question.
Rolling her eyes, she replies, “Yes, I mean football. I’ve been cheering at this shitty school since I was a freshman. It’s about damn time, if we had a few more decent players we would have been there the last two years.But one player does not make the team.” She emphasizes the last part like she’s repeating something she was told.
“I’m Lisa by the way. Laura, right?” I nod, wondering why she’s introducing herself to me now. “Ugh, I hate Mrs. Vergiels, she’s the worst with all her droning. I mean, does she always have to harp on the reading? I hate reading.” Lisa drops her head to the desk. I look up at the teacher in question. Lisa wasn’t even particularly quiet. Isn’t she afraid she’ll be overheard?
“I actually like reading,” I offer with a small wince. I sound like a total teacher’s pet.
“I’m more of an ‘I’ll watch the movie’ kind of girl,” she remarks, looking up from her desk. I grin thinking her drama, though a little over the top, is kinda funny. “Thank God,” Lisa groans, jumping out of her seat the moment the bell rings. “See ya later,” she adds before rushing to the door.
Ollie is already in his seat behind me when I make it to third hour. His face goes from a leery wince to a wide-toothed grin when I walk in. Wrapping my backpack straps over the back of my seat, I turn and face him while sitting down. “Happy to see me?” I joke.
“Sooo, happy. How’s your day going?” Ollie reaches forward and runs the tips of his fingers over my inner arm. I swear I feel a lick of heat accompanying his touch.
“Okay I guess,” I answer reflexively, preoccupied with watching his fingertips ghost over my arm, and the definite warmth it’s causing.
“Are you still mad at Milo?” His words are whispered. I bite my lip but shake my head in denial. “That’s good, he’s been being kind of dickish, but it’s not really his fault. I mean it kind of is, but it’s not like he means it.” My eyes start to slide closed, the heat of his touch is pooling in more places than just my arm. I register his words, but they don’t seem very important right now, what seems important is the way I want to pull that warmth deeper into me.
“Laura!” My eyes jerk open when Ollie shouts my name franticly. I jerk back and look around. Class hasn’t started yet but there are plenty of other people in the room. Why did he yell at me? Ollie’s eyes are glassy with panic when I meet them. “Did it work? Are your hiccups gone?” His eyes bulge as he stares at me.
“Ah yes, that did it, thank you.”
Ollie smiles, but it’s forced. His hands are under the desk. “Yeah a good scare will make them disappear.” A few heads turn away from us, returning to their phones or conversation. Ollie leans forward, the fake smile still on his lips as he says, “I’m sorry, we can talk about it later.” His mouth barely moves. I swallow and face the front of the room, there was definitely something going, but it’s obviously something we can’t talk about here.
When class lets out Ollie walks me to the door but keeps a few feet of distance between us. Frowning, I wave as he moves through the crowed halls calling out a distracted, “Bye.”
* * *
Sitting in the stairwell,my usual lunch spot, I expect one or all of them will show up at some point, but I find myself slightly disappointed when they never do. Milo helped me pack my lunch this morning, and by helped, I mean tried to give me three times what I could eat. I still have an apple and carrot sticks I didn’t get to that he refused to let me take out. I do have to say though, the fresh turkey with lettuce and pickles was so much better than my usual peanut butter sandwich.
I don’t share anymore classes with them until art with Dante last hour, so I guess my questions about what happened with Ollie will have to wait a few more hours.
* * *
Today isthe last day to work on our portraits and at the end of the hour Mr. Adams will collect them so they can be judged. I’m under no illusion that mine stands a chance, but I am proud of what I was able to accomplish. I stare at the project I’ve been working on over the last several weeks and analyze each line, finding some spots I’ve shaded too heavily, and some with proportion problems. But the overall piece isn’t bad for someone who had no clue what they were doing to begin with. Mr. Adams deserves all the credit. If it wasn’t for him, I would have handed in a stick figure and rightfully earned a failing grade.
The seat beside me remains empty, even after the bell rings. Worry gnaws at my stomach. Where’s Dante, what could be keeping him from class today? I know this project was important to him. I don’t know why, he clearly has enough money to go to the college of his choosing, but somehow I know this meant something special to him.
The class is louder than usual, I think everyone is excited to hand in their work or maybe just to start something new. Mr. Adams doesn’t even try to quiet the room as he makes his way around to each student with last bits of advice. When it’s finally my turn I can’t stop myself from asking, “Will Dante be able to hand his in late?”
My art teacher tilts his head and looks at me. “Dante already handed his project in earlier today.” Shrugging he adds, “He had to finish up the yearbook cover so it could be finalized. I didn’t mind, he could have handed his project in last week.”
My eyes go round before I look away. “Oh okay.” He’s with Delaney. That thought makes me forget I was just concerned about him and his portrait. It makes me want to hunt them down so I can stake claim the way she tried to. I shake the notion away. Even though I know our lives are intertwined, I still don’t know everything that entails.
“Laura?” Mr. Adams calls for my attention, I don’t think I was very good at hiding my disappointment. “I think you’ve really outdone yourself on this,” he adds when I look in his direction. Biting the inside of my lip, I nod my head in agreement. Mr. Adams helps me with a few final details before moving on to the last students.
When the bell rings I leave my paper, along with everyone else’s, on the teacher’s desk. I don’t rush from class like I usually do. Instead, I take my time I’m feeling indecisive. Should I go to the back lot to see if the guys are there, or just walk over to the diner like I would normally do? As the halls begin to clear I make the decision to go out the back way, and if they aren’t there I’ll head to Maggie’s.
Ollie is jogging up from the lot as I open the door. He spots me and comes to my side. “I was wondering if you got lost?” he jokes, placing his arm around my neck and hauling me toward the car.
