Fourteen
I picked at my nails impatiently as I stood in front of Mrs. Hawthorne’s desk. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elliot plucking at the fabric of his jeans.
The class was empty aside from the two of us since everyone else was gathered in the gym for the winter pep rally.
Mrs. Hawthorne seemed to enjoy every minute of our agony as she took her time marking our exams with a frilly pen.
The lines on my forehead became pronounced as I nudged closer to Elliot.
When I looked up at him, his eyes locked onto mine. We shot each other apprehensive looks.
“Well.” The teacher cleared her throat. “This is shocking.”
Elliot’s face contorted. “Uh, does that mean we passed or…?”
She pursed her lips. “Ms. Taylor, you received a 98%, which brings your overall grade for the class to a 95%.”
“Yes!” I bounced on my heels while clapping excitedly.
She scowled at me, prompting my face to immediately drop as I clasped both hands in front of me and stood in silence, my spine erect.
“And Mr. Keller,” she deadpanned, while glaring at him. I could practically see the lump in his throat. “You received an 84%, which brings your overall grade to an 82%.”
His eyes lit up as he pumped his fist in the air. “Fuck yeah!”
I glared at him just as Mrs. Hawthorne scolded, “Language! Or would you like another round of detention since you seem so keen on swearing?”
“No.” He sulked. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Good. Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised by both of you this semester. You both have really proved yourself to be somewhat decent students.”
“Thank you,” we both said in unison.
“I expect nothing less next semester.”
I nearly choked on air. Next semester? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Elliot mirrored my expression, but he was able to find his voice before I found mine.
“Next semester?”
“Both of you seemed to have enrolled in my AP Language Arts class. So, it looks like we are all stuck with each other once again.”
I clenched my eyes shut. I could feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. Letting out a timid sigh, I looked up at him.
He was seething.
“ Did you hear that, Clarke ?” Elliot asked, feigning enthusiasm. “We enrolled in her class next semester.”
“ Mmhm . I guess we did.”
I forced the corners of my lips upward. Mrs. Hawthorne seemed to smile with far too many teeth as she held her arm outstretched toward the door.
“You both may be dismissed.”
Without another word, we trudged out of her class and into the hallway.
“So, we passed…”
Elliot glared at me through thin slits. “ And we have to do it all over again.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced, lowering my head in shame. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was the AP Lang teacher.”
He let out a sultry laugh. “Don’t care. You owe me one, Princess.”
My breathing hitched as he prowled toward me, placing his body flush against mine. Using his thumb and forefinger, he lifted my chin, causing my eyes to slowly trail upward. From his toned jawline to the soft smirk on his lips to the deep pools of ocean blue in his eyes—I was mesmerized.
I tried to swallow, but all the saliva in my mouth had dried up as though it had been replaced by sandpaper.
I couldn’t close my mouth as my lips remained slightly parted.
He put his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer as if there was any space left between us.
What was he doing? His eyes flitted to the right, causing mine to do the same.
That’s when I saw Ryan and some girl standing in the corner. Oh . His eyes were locked on us as he whispered something into the brunette’s ear, causing her to chuckle. I groaned, watching the two of them before Elliot’s hand found my waist, shifting my attention back to him.
Lying my palm on his chest, I exhaled, trying to rid myself of the nerves brewing inside my rib cage, but the air was forced from my lungs as Elliot pulled me closer, our lips practically touching.
My breathing hitched as my eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up to his eyes.
He gave a slight nod. Without hesitation, I pushed my lips against his.
My eyelids drifted shut, the darkness enhancing every sensation in my body.
Thoughts of Ryan faded into oblivion, disintegrating from my mind.
It was just me and Elliot. He moved his hand to the side of my face, pulling me in closer as I clawed at his neck, desperate to taste more of him.
My skin tingled, causing me to shudder against his body as he pulled me closer.
Our lips moved together in synchronicity with a kind of rhythm that didn’t require music.
His lips were rough, but somehow gentle.
I was breathless when we pulled apart. He swiped his thumb along my bottom lip as I looked in the direction where Ryan had been, only to catch a glimpse of his fuzzy figure disappearing around the corner.
I tried to hide my rosy cheeks as I pulled Elliot in for a hug.
“That was amazing,” he muttered into the top of my head.
I couldn’t hide the shock on my face as I pulled away. “Uh, I—”
“How’d you come up with that plan on the spot? I was just gonna stroke your hair or something, but I really think we really sold it, don’t you?”
Oh, the plan . Yeah. The plan was amazing.
“Um, yeah.” I bit my lip, tearing my gaze away from his. “It was pretty good, right? Like I said, I’m smart and stuff. Plans come naturally to me. Haven’t you seen my plan to win Prom Queen?”
“I’ll never doubt you again.”
“Good,” I spoke, my voice coming out shaky. “Let’s go, then. The pep rally’s about to start.”
“Wait,” he called out, gripping my forearm. “I have something for you.”
“Huh?”
“I did a thing.”
“A thing ?”
Elliot nodded. “A thing.”
I couldn’t hide the inquisitive look on my face as I watched him shrug the straps of his backpack off his shoulder, twisting it around his torso as he rifled through his belongings.
Pulling out a large green folder, he grabbed a piece of paper from inside and held it against his chest. With a cheeky grin, Elliot wiggled his brows before flipping the papers toward me.
I froze. My hand instinctively cupped my mouth as I sat in pure shock.
Looking back and forth between Elliot and the paper, I tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
There was no fucking way I was awake right now.
I blinked a few times to see if my imagination was playing tricks on me, but each time I opened my eyes, I was met with the same sight.
In his hands, he held a mini poster of me in a pink ball gown with the phrase ‘ Vote Clarke Taylor 4 Prom Queen ’ written at the top.
“Holy hell!” I pushed my hair out of my face and leaned closer to get a better look at the art. He twitched as my hair grazed his fingers. “Did you draw this?”
“Yeah. It’s no big deal.”
“You fucking drew me, Elliot. That’s the definition of a big deal.”
“Eh.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Some guy walking on water is a big deal. This? Not so much.”
“Stop being modest. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah, it really doesn’t.”
“ And he’s back.” I flicked my eyes toward the ceiling. “Thank you, though. Like seriously, thank you.”
Taking the artwork from him, I tucked it into the fold of my journal before putting it back inside my bag.
“You carry that journal with you everywhere, huh?”
“It’s my lifeline, so, duh.”
He laughed as he started to walk away. “Alright, let’s get this whole ‘I bleed black and yellow’ shitshow of a pep rally out of the way before I puke.”
The two of us walked into the gymnasium only to be met with a barrage of boisterous students whooping and hollering from the sidelines as the teachers competed in some kind of horrific rendition of musical chairs that instead involved scurrying to find one of the remaining hula hoops after the music stopped.
I felt tight pressure forming inside my skull as we took our place in the bleachers.
Elliot and I watched as the events of the pep rally kicked into high gear. Unsurprisingly, the PE teacher, Mr. Xenedee, won the musical hula hoop competition.
Next up were the student events. A small group of kids from each grade were selected to represent their graduating class in a three-legged relay race.
Despite Elliot’s earlier protests, he seemed to be enjoying the sight of random people tripping over their own feet while shouting obscenities at each other.
His face held a smirk as he stared ahead with a raised eyebrow.
The seniors came out on top, just as they do every year.
How the faculty managed to rig that one was beyond me.
Usually, it was something more subtly manipulated, like ‘Which class can cheer the loudest?’ and claiming it was the seniors, even though nine out of every ten seniors had already inevitably gone home.
Perks of having a driver’s license and fewer classes.
And downs of being a cheerleader forced to perform at these things.
“Let’s hear it for the football team!” Principal Hawkins blared over the microphone.
A barrage of boys wearing padded uniforms and oversized helmets burst through the double doors as they paraded into the gym.
A thunderous round of applause erupted from the bleachers.
Ryan was leading the pack as he barreled headfirst into the oversized banner held by two students.
The basketball team was next, followed by the baseball team and the track team.
The applause was quieter when the girls’ teams were introduced, but that’s when I yelled the loudest. When the Honey Bee mascot stood in the center of the gymnasium, my hand slipped out of Elliot’s.
“That’s my cue to get ready. I’ll see you after?”
“Yeah. You got this, Princess.”