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Clayton
This friend zone thing sucks. Spending the afternoons with Abigail has been awesome and torture all wrapped up in a bow. On one hand, getting to know her without pressure is great. I think she’s more open to me because of it. But she’s got these moments where she’ll flip her hair into her mouth and chew on it or smirk and put on the sass that get my heart pumping and my cock dancing under the table.
Mollie doesn’t even ask us what we want anymore since it’s always the same thing. I think she’s gonna miss us now that we’ve gone back to school. My mom finally figured out about my suspension. I laid it out for her and she wasn’t happy, but she did understand it was in regard to sticking up for another student that needed defending. She took my phone for a month. That sucks, but I’ll survive. I picked up a cheap flip phone at the Walmart yesterday. That’s what saving my money is good for. Emergencies like this.
I’ll give the new number to Abigail when I see her in fifth period, music appreciation. Or maybe I’ll grab her at lunch. Fuck, I can’t, I have to make up a test I missed during suspension. Fucking science. If it wasn’t a class I was getting a C in, I’d blow it off, but I gotta get it done.
Damn it, I’m hungry. I got on a schedule with Abigail, and now I wanna eat too early. As I’m heading back to class from picking up my Amel Lions letterman jacket from the office, admiring the white and blue, I hear a guitar and look out into the garden. Sitting on the stone bench is Abigail, all cute in my other jacket. I let her keep it after finding out she didn’t have a winter coat.
She’s strumming the first few bars to a song I know all too well, Life’s a Dance, by John Michael Montgomery.
I slip my new leather and suede on and head out the door. I listen to her as she ekes it out, watching her breath. She’s got it, mostly.
“That going into your new set?” I smile, walking up to her and sitting down.
She looks up at me, and the look on her face tells me she’s freaking out. I remember it from that afternoon in the hallway. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. It’s a cross between tears and pure rage.
“I-”
“What’s goin’ on, Abi?”
I turn my head to see Vic walking up the slope toward us.
She looks like someone just shot her as she looks from me to him and back to the ground.
