Shut down.
As if sensing my lingering stares, her amber eyes snap up to meet mine and the faintest shade of pink captures her cheeks as she smiles at me, like we’re old friends.Fuck. I whip my head away, forcing myself to pay attention to the teacher.
That was close.
“In addition to the photograph, I would like for you all to draft a little write-up, under a paragraph, of why you chose to capture this specific image and why it represents beauty to you,” Mr. Takanaki continues. “I’m going to let you go early today so you can work on this project. You can do this alone or in groups, your choice. If you need to borrow a DSLR, please come see...”
Chairs scrape along the floor as my classmates preemptively begin rushing out of class, not bothering to let our teacher finish with his instructions. Mr. Takanaki lets out a sigh. “Assignment is due next week!” he exclaims over the clamoring of muffled conversations. “No extensions!”
“I’ll uh—see you next week, Oliver,” Cliff says, hopping off the stool and grabbing his textbook. “Have a good weekend.”
“Yeah, you too Cliff,” I say mindlessly, tilting my body back and forth, attempting to spot Kennedy through the throngs of students hovering in the aisles. Did she already leave?
“Looking for someone?”
“Jesus,” I gasp, grasping my chest and instantly wincing. That wassonot cool. “Wheredid youcome from?”
Kennedy grins, tapping her fingers on my desk. “You’re not the only one that can be sneaky,” she teases, nodding toward the door. “Are you gonna leave or just hang out in an empty classroom all day?”
“I’m not in a rush,” I lie, propping my textbook under my arm and sliding off the stool. She better not think I was waiting for her or something. I clear my throat as we walk down the hallway. “So, any ideas for the assignment?”
Kenny sighs, pursing her lips in thought. “Honestly, I’m not a very creative person, I kind of wish Mr. Takanaki set more parameters,” she admits, looking up at me. “I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Well, what do you find beautiful?” I ask casually. “Take a picture of that.”
“Mmm,” Kenny hums. “I mean, I like flowers, but we don’t have a garden on campus, so I guess I’ll just take a picture of a tree or something?” She grunts, shaking her head in frustration. “See? I—I’m not good at this. I miss math class.”
“You’re an alien, I’m sure of it,” I chuckle as we round the corner and an idea pops into my head. Before I can even process what I’m saying, I suggest, “I know of a garden nearby, I can take you there if you’d like.”
What in the actual fuck was that?
“Really?” Kenny asks, her eyes lighting up. “Is it close to campus?”
I inwardly cringe at how fucking lame I sound.I’ll take you.What was I thinking? I’m not a damn Uber service. I want to take back the offer but her fucking bright smile is gnawing at my gut like a teething baby.
“Yeah,” I sigh, giving in. Fuck’s sake. “But we’ll have to take the Triumph.”
She blinks, a hint of fear glistening in her eyes. “Oh, okay, sure, yeah, that sounds...fun,” she murmurs, fiddling with her fingers. “I just um...need to drop my textbook off at my dorm and uh—get a jacket. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in like four and a half minutes, okay?”
Before I can saysure, she bolts down the hallway and up the stairs, practically leaving dust in her wake.
Damn, she’s fast.
I drop my shit off in my dorm, change into a pair of black Levi’s, and grab my helmet before heading down to the parking lot. Honestly, there’s nothing else to do now until band practice, this trip will at least kill a couple of hours. That’s all. I’m killing time and getting homework done.
How studious of me.
As I check the time on my watch, Kenny struts toward me, sporting a—I stifle a snort. “Nice jacket,” I smirk, giving the leather jacket hugging her curves a careful once-over. “I suppose imitationisthe sincerest form of flattery.”
Kenny rolls her eyes, adjusting the sleeves. “Leather is very in right now,” she states, holding her chin up yet I can see the bashfulness bouncing in her eyes. “It’s not imitation, it’s fashion.”
"Sure,” I draw out slowly, handing her the helmet. “Whatever you say, love. Put it on and let’s go.”
She eyes the helmet warily as she takes it in her hands. "Where’s yours?” she asks, tilting her head.
“I only have one,” I reply with a shrug. “I’m fine though, don’t worry.”
Her eyes widen. “But what if you—”
