Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Over the past month, I’ve seen him in town and around his house. I even saw him in the woods once when I was climbing down from my treehouse. It was sort of awkward, actually. I froze, staring at him like an idiot. I told myself to look away but, no. I kept staring at him and staring at him, until his lips twitched, and one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile, more like a smirk. Then I spun around and ran. I don’t know why I did that but something happens to me when he’s around. I become awkward and shy, and my lips part because I start breathing through my mouth. It’s not pretty.
What Sky said to me at church weeks ago is still true. I can’t even talk to him, let alone be friends with him. I shouldn’t want to be. My mom would kill us both.
Even so, I want to ask him a million things whenever I see him. Like, why does he always carry a camera? Or if black is his favorite color, because he doesn’t wear anything else. Or why does he stare at me and why can’t I look away from him? There has to be an explanation for that.
I take in a deep breath and walk down the aisle. It’s happening again. I can’t look away, no matter how much I try to. His head is bent over something I can’t see, so he hasn’t noticed me. But I know, I know that he will. It’s just one of those things. Natural and pre-programmed.
I’m so focused on him and this weird phenomenon that happens whenever we’re around each other, that I don’t see someone grabbing my arm until I’m stopped. I turn to see the arm-grabber and it’s Jessica Roberts, one of my classmates.
Jessica and I have always gotten along super well. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But I just…” She glances left, then right. “Would you like to sit here? With us?”
I frown at her. “Oh. Um, well, that’s so sweet but I think I’ll stick with my old seat.”
“Are you sure?” She looks nervous, chewing on her lip. “I mean, we do have seats up front.”
“But…” I sort of laugh, not because it’s funny, but because her offer is weird. I never sit up front. But before I can think too much about it, the side of my face prickles. My gaze leaves her and swings to the boy sitting in the back.
Abel’s watching me with his maple syrupy eyes. I feel relieved that he sensed my presence, that the phenomenon is real. I’m not making it up. Though the question is, why the heck is it happening?
“Evie.” Jessica draws my attention back to her. “You’re welcome to sit with us. In fact, I think we can use this time to maybe discuss…” She glances over at Abel before looking back at me. “What Mrs. Johnson taught us. Frankly, it confused me so I’d love your help.”
Now I see what’s going on. Everyone knows that the back of the bus is my territory. I sit in a corner and no one bothers me. But Abel is sitting there now and most of the people are afraid of him, like Jessica and her gang.
God, when will people stop being afraid of him?
Personally, I think some of them are being mean and dragging this too far. He’s not bad. He’s shown no signs of being anything but nice. Like, the other day, he held the church’s door open for Mrs. Weatherby, but that witch refused to even enter. She turned up her nose and didn’t budge from her spot until Abel’s jaw got really tight like it did the first day when he was with Mr. Adams, and he left. I tried to catch his eye that day but he wouldn’t look at me. Though I knew that he was aware of me. He’s always aware.
He’s not a monster, I want to scream. Instead, I say, “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
Jessica opens her mouth to say something but I raise my hand and stop her. “I said I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
With that, I resume walking to the back. The bones of Abel’s face are so prominent right now, so high and cut. The brown of his eyes seems to be getting darker the closer I get. I come to stand before him, the closest I’ve been to him ever, and he swallows.
Now that I’m here and every single person on the bus is staring at me, I don’t know what to do. I know what I’d like to do. I’d like to sit by him and say hi. I’d like to smile at him and tell him that I’m sorry for all the crap people have been giving him.