Not-so-Freshmen

Chapter Eleven

    I think about what would happen if I didn’t go back to class. But that thought is shoved quickly away. There’s no way I can skip. I’m not that kind of girl.
“Parker, we both have to-“I try to object, Parker cuts me off with a sigh.
“I know,” he admits. “Mr. Pitts would murder me if I skipped, since the first game is Friday..” His grip on me loosens, but he still won’t let go.
I grab at his hands, and try to take a step away from him again. Why does he have to be so strong? Hmph.
This time, he pulls me even close to him, but does let go of my waist. Only, his hands move to my neck, and wrap loosely around it. He rests his chin on one of his arms, so his face is right next to mine.
“It was just a stupid idea. I was just thinkin’ that we could, I don’t know.” He sighs again, and the air blows right into my ear. It tickles a little, and I consider staying again. But I know that I can’t do that.
I start to walk away from him, and this time he doesn’t stop me. I take several steps towards the choir room doors, and I hear him walking close behind.
“See you later, Paze,” he whispers, a second before I open up the door, and amble back into the choir room. 
“Ah, welcome back, Ms. Paisley,” Mr. Hawthorne says loudly, after I enter the room again. “How about you watch the rest of the class practice the choreography and give us a little review?”
I hold back a laugh; he’s only saying that because he thinks I’m on my period. HAHA.
The rest of the class goes by really quickly, since all I have to do is sit and watch the other girls dance. Wesley re-enters the room about ten minutes before the end-of-the-day bell rings, and he sits next to me.
“So,” he speaks up, while we’re both watching the girls dance, “What was with you and Parker?”
I chuckle to myself, but then the humor fades away, and I turn to him. “Please don’t tell anybody about that.”
He looks me straight in the eyes. Dadgum, his eyes really are gorgeous. His expression is very serious, and very understanding. “I won’t, I promise..” He pauses, glances away from me, and then looks back. “You weren’t planning to kiss him, were you?” Right now, I’m glad that the competition music is blaring. It’d be terribly awkward if Mr. Hawthorne heard this.
I shake my head. “He said we were going to talk about something… We didn’t do much talking.”
He half-smiles, with a vacant look in his eyes. “Yeah, I saw that.”
   “Mhmm..” I look back at the dancing girls in front of us. Sharp movements, waving arms, confused feet. Good thing I’m not up there. I can’t dance to save my life.
“Are y’all like, together?” Wesley’s voice snaps me right back to our conversation. My head turns back around to him.
“No way,” I reply. “Noo waaay. He’s a Popular, I’m a Dork. It doesn’t work like that. I don’t even know why he did that. He’s been acting weird lately. I don’t get it,whatever, I guess. I just-“ I stop myself. “Sorry,” I apologize, looking down at my hands in my lap. “I’m rambling.”
When I look back up at him, he’s smiling with straight teeth. “It’s no big deal, I like listening.” 
I smile at him. “You’re a good friend, Wesley.”
    

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