“What are you doing?” I crossed my arms.
“I don’t really need to go to the bathroom.” She gave me another soft, gentle smile. A smile that no longer held light-hearted, bubbly energy she used with everyone, but dripped with unhappiness and truth.
I froze as every instinct to protect her rose viciously and violently.
This girl was invincible in her quest to save, soothe, and help, so why did her shoulders roll and tears gloss her complex hazel eyes?
My heart growled, desperate not to fall for whatever lie this was. Begging me not to reach out and help her for a change.
But that was the problem.
Olin wasn’t a walking, talking lie like the rest of this school.
Her many acts of sweetness had proven that over and over again. I’d watched her for two years. I’d lost count how many times she’d restored my hope in humanity just by being her.
If I was brutally honest with myself, I was mostly in love with her and I’d never even said hello.
I stood stupid and silent as her fingers flew over the on-screen keyboard. My chest ached as she sniffed back sadness and bit her bottom lip.
“What are you doing?” The repeated question fell dark and distrusting before I could stop myself.
Her gaze met mine, the liquid receding a little. She didn’t hide this time. “Responding to an urgent text.”
I mulled over her reply, not used to conversation with anyone, let alone the girl of my many fascinations.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I forced out. “So urgent you risked detention?”
Olin returned her attention to her phone. “She can’t give out detention for having a weak bladder.”
Annoyance at her idiocy rose. “She can do whatever she wants. Tallup isn’t someone you want to cross.”
I knew that from personal experience.
“I know. But...” She blew air up her face, making pretty bangs dance on her forehead. “I won’t be able to concentrate unless I send this.” She sniffed back another gush of suspicious wetness in her eyes. “Because...well, you see...it’s just...very important.”
Once again a surge to be nice overwhelmed me. I didn’t like her this way. I wasn’t used to her showing weakness. She fought for those who needed help. She’d never cried. Not once.
I’d never seen her so...in pain.
Fuck.
I didn’t speak again.
I couldn’t.
My heart successfully ignored all my warnings and wanted to keep her. I didn’t know how a few sentences and the hint of tears could make me sign over my trust, just like that.
She’d successfully done what no one else had before.
She’d made me care.
Made me put my own sorry excuse of a life on the line. Made me want to put her first and always, always be there for her.
My entire body ached while Olin ignored me and wrote her text. My heart ached. My belly ached. My head. My arms. They all ached because the fantasy was no longer just a girl I watched from afar.
She was here.
Standing in front of me.
And I didn’t know what the fuck to do.
A minute passed.
Then another.
An awful thought harpooned me.
Is she messaging a boyfriend?
I’d never seen her with anyone but that didn’t mean she wasn’t secretive or seeing someone outside of school.
Was this a breakup text?
Curiosity burned like acid while her fingers tapped softly.
Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.
Shoving hands into jeans pockets, I cleared my throat. “You done?”
“Almost.” Her tongue stuck between her lips. With a heavy sigh, she pressed send. “There. Finished.”
I fought the urge to ask. I forbid myself from grabbing her and never letting go. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to be the only one she trusted.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Moving toward the classroom door, I did the most logical thing and not the crazy delusion of stealing her from school and never bringing her back.
Reaching for the door-handle, I jumped as Olin pleaded, “Um, wait?” Her shoulders slumped all over again. She looked at me then down the empty corridor as if needing time before facing education again.
I paused, recognising her reluctance. I knew that look. The look of being trapped when all you wanted was to be free.
My prison was made up of drunkards and fears of homelessness.
What bars surrounded her?
I balled my hands. “You...eh, you okay?”
She half-smiled, tucking loose hair behind her ear. “You know what? No, not really.” Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t meant to say such things. “Sorry. Whoops, I didn’t mean to...ugh, forget it.” Her smile blinded me, bright and brave—the one I knew because she wore it like armour.
“Don’t do that.” My heart swelled at her confiding in me, then frosted over at her attempt to hide. “Don’t lie.”
She flinched. “I didn’t lie.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She jerked as if I’d offered crack cocaine in the school corridor. I understood why such an offer would seem random and totally out of nowhere but...we weren’t total strangers.
She knew me, kind of.
I rubbed the back of my nape, cursing the length and wishing I’d trimmed my hair last week instead of running errands for my old man and his whores.
“Not sure.” She gave me a pained smile. “Why would you care what I have to say?”
I deliberately smirked, acting as cool and calm as I could. “Why wouldn’t I care?”
“’Cause you don’t know me.”
“I know you.”
“Yeah, but you’re not my friend.”
“Not yet.”
What the hell, Clark?
The funny thing was, friend was too basic a word.
Friend was nothing compared to what I wanted from her.
She froze. “You...you want to be my friend?” The lack of confidence in her tone made my eyes narrow. Where had her brave, bubbly fearlessness gone? Why, in this lonely, empty corridor, did she look at me as if I’d offered her the greatest gift after having nothing but empty promises?
Her obvious hunger made my stomach knot tighter and sharp, painful things stab into my chest.
In just a few short seconds, we’d gone from strangers to something more. “Depends if you’d be friends with the outcast.” I shrugged, well aware of my scruffiness, my moodiness, everything that I was and could never be.
“You’re not an outcast. I’m sure you could have many fri—”
“It’s by choice.” I cut her off. “I don’t like people.”
“But...you just said—”
“You’re the one exception.”
“Oh.” She blushed a deep pleased pink. “Well...I mean...I’m honoured. But...um, why would you want to be friends with me? We’re not exactly similar.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “What do we have in common? You’re older than me and—”
“I’m older than everyone in class.”
“Why is that?” She tilted her head inquisitively. “You’re studying the same things we are. I’ve always wondered.”
You have?
How long have you wondered?
How long had she noticed me?