“Of course I still want to go,” Candi giggles quietly so only I can hear. “Do you still want me there?”
“Hell yeah, I do!” There's no hiding my excitement from this girl, and apparently, the rest of the class.
“What's that, Mr. Miller? You want to teach the class?” Mr. Ferguson pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand and sets down a piece of run-down chalk with the other.
“Uh… no, thank you, sir…” I try not to laugh, but my embarrassment gets tangled in my words. Maybe I'm surprised he heard me, or maybe it's a combination of being love-struck and shocked that the girl I've fallen for actually wants to be seen with me. I'm on fucking cloud nine.
“At least you're polite.” He sighs under his breath. “How about you and Ms. Hart have your conversation after my lesson, alright? Or better yet, just pass your notebook back and forth like you do every class and pretend you're listening to the lecture…”
“Sorry, Mr. Ferguson.” Candi giggles again as she pulls the cap off her pen. “Just making plans for this weekend…”
“I get it… It's Valentine's Day weekend, but maybe plan out your date when we're not learning about the Boston Massacre…” As soon as he turns back around, I meet Candi’s eyes. I can't help but fall harder at her awkward chuckle and the blush on her cheeks.
“Do you think everyone knows we're together now?” I roughly scratch the question on an empty page in my notebook before passing it towards her desk.
Her answer is almost immediate. “I think so.” She draws a smiley face next to her short message in red pen.
“Does this mean I can hold your hand in the hall? Or can I walk you to class?” The request moves through my black ink so quickly. After what she's mentioned before, I know it's a big step, but so is telling her how much we've fallen for each other.I just want everyone to know she's mine.
The more I read over the words, the more they feel like an unattainable wish, but a guy can dream, right? She takes my notebook in her delicate hands and stares at the words like they're going to jump off the page.Just give in to me, Candi. All I want is you, and only you.
She swallows before touching the tip of her pen to the paper, and her eyebrows scrunch together as she writes her sentence. My heart races with every curve in each letter. I try to turn my brain off and turn my attention to the front of the classroom, but I can only hear the faint scratching sounds of her pen drawing lines through words that could potentially break me into a hundred pieces.
She holds onto the notebook; her fingers wrapping around the edges as if it'll take flight if she lets go.Whatever it is, just tell me. I'm not going anywhere, not now.She peers down at the lines one last time before etching more words onto the corner of the paper.
“Andy,” she whispers before I take the pad of paper by the metal spirals.Do I really want to know what took you so long to write?
Her message isn't long, not the one she settled on. However, there are many lines that are crossed out to the point they're hardly legible. Instead of trying to make out what's under the many harsh lines, I begin to scan over the final note.
“Andy…” she begins, and already, I don't want to read the rest. The feeling in the way she wrote my name is final.It doesn'tseem like us.“These past couple of weeks have been amazing. You've become the one person I want to talk to every day. The one person I want to kiss… the only guy I want to be with. I'm just not ready to be that person out in the open. Not yet.”
No matter how much it sucks, my eyes stay glued to the paper. I re-read it multiple times, but the words “not ready, not yet”stick out like they're highlighted in bright yellow, and then it hits me.
She'll never be ready, not for me anyway. I wanted so badly for this fantasy of Candi and Andrew to come true, but it's all just a fucking joke. I was never going to have her, not all of her. I was just someone to keep her company while she continued to cry over her ex-boyfriend.
I notice her glare out of the corner of my eye when I stuff my notebook back in my bag. I can't look at her directly, not now.It hurts too much.Rather than gaze at her with a mix of emotions showing on my face, I peer up at the clock and count down the minutes until class ends.Why is time going so damn slowly? Come on, I just want to get the hell out of here and not look back.
“Alright… that's it. Get the heck out of my class.” My teacher's voice rises over the loud bell.
“Andy…” she calls my name as I stand and throw my bag over my shoulders. “Aren't you going to say anything?”
“What do you want me to say?” I continue not to look at her, but past her to the motivational poster behind her head.Hang in there? I'm not sure I can right now.
“I don't know, something. Anything is better than just ignoring what I wrote,” her eyes zero in on mine.
“Choose your words wisely, Candi. You don't want me to sayjust anything.” My rebuttal feels like icicles falling at her feet. “... And quickly because I have to get to second period English.”
“Why didn't you say anything to me?”
“It's all been said before, Candi. You don't want me, Candi. You want me to be your shoulder to cry on until you don't miss your asshole ex-boyfriend anymore…” Her eyes are daggers into mine; I've never seen her face this red before. I watch her chest rise and fall as she takes deep, labored breaths. “Yeah, you're speechless… no surprise there. I've got to get to class.”
My strides between the desks are quick, and before I know it, I'm halfway down the hall. Her note is loud in my mind and plays on the highest volume in my ears.I'm not ready, not yet.
“You're wrong, Andy!” She yells after me, and her pace catches up to mine.
“Your class is the other way…”
“I'm not going, not until you talk to me!”
