Before any further comments can be made about my well-loved sweater, Kaleb drops down to one knee beside me. Hints of sandalwood fill the air, along with the sweet, musty smell of old books, reminding me of rainy afternoons spent holed up within the stacks of our local library. It’s a comforting scent that makes me want to curl up like a spoiled cat and sleep for days.
He’s pressed and neat in a black polo, unbuttoned to show a peek of the white shirt underneath, dark wash jeans, and black, well-polished boots. If he didn’t have the body of Captain America, one might accuse him of looking too preppy. Instead he has the sweet quality of someone that a girl could be proud to bring home to meet their parents-- well, you know, for girls that have parents worthy to impress-- or alive.
Quietly, he asks, “Is there any way we can help?”
I blink at him for several moments, my exhausted, frazzled brain jumping to all kinds of weird places.Coffee. I need more coffee.
Shaking my head no, I begin to zip my backpack closed. Kaleb smiles at me, before dipping his hand into my locker and pulling out my pencil case. Reopening my backpack, I see my paper bag lunch still inside.Oops.
“Thank you,” I murmur, taking the offered pencil case and placing my lunch into my locker. “I’m a little tired.”
“It’s fine,” he reassures. “We all have those mornings.”
I raise one brow, take a swig of my coffee, then challenge, “Even you?”
“Even me,” he chuckles softly, but something flits across his eyes that make me want to take the question back.Hello foot. Meet mouth.
“I could be your alarm clock,” Felix offers, dodging around a group of girls that are attempting to walk and stare at Nolan at the same time. “It’s not like you can hit snooze to make me go away.”
Nolan offers up a wink and smirk to the girls, before purposely turning his attention back to me. I can almost feel their confused appraisal, as they try to figure out what’s so special about the girl in the oversized, red hoodie who looks like she could be a zombie extra on some B movie horror flick.
My head feels like it’s filled with sand, as I roll it up to look at Felix. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’ll stick with my phone for now. If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Aww, but I bet I could do a pretty good impression of a reveille,” he jokingly whines.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I grumble back.
Today, he decided to wear relaxed fit jeans and a black t-shirt that reads, “√(-1) 23∑ π… and it was delicious!” I’m too drained to decipher more than it has something to do with pie, but I do wonder if each choice is based off a shirt he once owned or if he makes one up each morning.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a couple guys at their lockers give me weird looks and I realize, to them, I’m talking to thin air.Oh well. Fuck ‘em.
I look down at my backpack then back up at Kaleb. “Did I remember everything this time?”
His laugh is more genuine, a deep rumble that’s still surprising coming from a seventeen year old boy.Maybe it’s a nephilim thing.His ever present smile grows enough to show some of his pearly white teeth, while he double checks that I have everything.
“Have your homework?” he asks after deducing that everything I need is in my backpack.
I nod, feeling like a bobble head. “Yup. Didn’t take it out since after school Monday.”
“Good girl,” Nolan teases, sounding too much like praising a puppy that piddled outside for the first time.
“Watch it, Casanova,” I grunt, blowing away strands of hair that’s broken free from the messy bun on the top of my head. “And for the record, you’re in charge of US History homework tonight.”
“But we didn’t have homework Monday,” he counters.
I give him a Cheshire Cat grade expression and say, “Yes, but I did the in class assignment, while you spent the hour switching from copying my notes and poking me. I’m counting it.”
He sighs dramatically. “Worth it. You make the best noises.”
Felix looks surprised and intrigued, while Kaleb simply looks surprised.
While closing my locker and zipping up my bag, I grumble, “No discussion of the noises. I don’t make any noises. If you think I make noises, you’ve clearly misheard.”
“Oh really?” Nolan smirks wickedly and I have just enough time to regret my last words, before he leans over and pokes me in the side-- eliciting a loud squeak.
It’s while they’re laughing that Connor comes strolling over.
“Morning,” he mumbles, then looks at us with an inquisitive raised brow.
