Teen Ink

Chapter 3

I slam the locker shut. It bangs in sideways because the top hinge is a little broken; I slam it again and again. “Dammit,” I mumble. Then I gently close it.




I make my way slowly to first period, counting my steps and avoiding the glances from ex-friends. They whisper among themselves of my rash comments and blatant escape from their circle. I don’t say anything because I don’t need to.




I have math first, my best and worst subject. Best because I’m good at it. Worst because I share it with a certain someone.




Finn leans against his desk, arms folded over his broad chest, his usual smirk in place as he examines the room. He could almost be classified as a predator, those dimples and blue eyes would do any harmless prey in.




When his eyes reach me, the smirk vanishes, an almost-frown pulling at his full lips. I ignore him and look towards the front, wishing that my eyes would stop welling up.




We don’t do anything that first day of class, just talk about rules that have never changed and discuss what is to be expected from an honors class.




I try to pretend I am taking notes, but I just end up doodling F’s all over my page while tiny hearts surround it. I don’t realize it until I hear a familiar chuckle in front of me.




I breathe in the sight of him, taking in the familiar golden locks and bright green eyes. I drink him in, but the electric feeling never shows up, no matter how much I try to dunk myself in him.




“Eli…” I say, trying not to sound like I’m a panting dog.




He squints his eyes at me, beautiful eyes, and ruffles my hair with one hand. “How’s my best friends little sister doin?”




I look away from him. “I’m fine,” I mumble.




Ely looks down at his converse, “Luce-“




I shake my head, my dark hair falling in front of my face like a show curtain, thick enough to blind but thin enough to hear. “Please… just don’t.”




Ely raps his knuckles on my desk, a nervous habit he picked up after the funeral. “I just-“ he runs his hand through his hair. “Never mind.”




I stare at him for a while as walks his way across the room, his saunter back in full swing as he joins a group of girls. They giggle, grab his arm and pull him in. He smiles his fake smile and tries to join in the conversation, but his eyes dart over to me a few times, giving the distinct feeling that he wasn’t done with me.




It’s like the farther I try to climb and further I fall.