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“Just asking. You keep staring at the door.”

“I do? I mean, I am. I wasn’t waiting on someone. No, more like hoping someone doesn’t walk through the door. Get my drift?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “So, did you have a fun summer?”

“Uh yeah. I guess we didn't talk all that much did we?” I answer, slightly distracted by the fact that Elliott hasn’t entered the door yet. Why am I expecting him to enter the door? “I did. I mean, I didn’t really do all that much. Honestly? The boat trip our families made together at the beginning of the summer was the most exhilarating part of the entire thing.”

“Really? It must have been a lame summer then.”

We both laugh. I don’t mention the other thing that happened over the summer. It’s understood that we don’t talk about that thing.

“Kind of. You could have come over you know? Maybe we should have gone wakeboarding on the lake again. I might have improved with time.”

“I don’t know,” he teasingly sings. “Actually, you weren’t half bad. At least you got up on your board.”

“Yeah, only took me what? Like fifty times?”

We both laugh again but it’s drowned out by the tardy bell. Huh. I ignore the sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach. You don’t want him Julia. You can’t want him.

Elliott isn’t in second period U.S. History either and I try to swallow down the insaneness that is my wanting to know where he is all the time. I’ve discovered this insatiable appetite for the knowledge of his whereabouts. I bury these feelings. I delude myself into thinking it’s only a temporary effect of the electricity, the fluke. Only temporary.

At lunch, I lazily stroll through the cafeteria doors darting my eyes at the football table. He wasn’t there. I scold myself for not feeling relief. I sit at my table alone, again, not that I’m not used to that or anything. My best friend is my cousin Caroline but she’s traveling across the country with her dance troupe and I haven’t talked to her in over a week which is sort of rare. She must be busy. She visits often but only in between gigs. I miss her so much. It’s hard not having her near. I find myself alone at home a lot, reading. The only other person who will even talk to me in this town, besides the adults, is Sawyer Tuttle and even that’s on rare occasions.

Elliott doesn’t know this, but the reason I’m as alone in this town as I am is indirectly because of him. My mom blames him and everything but there are a few details that I’ve purposely left out. If I told her the whole story, she would just flip out on this town and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, especially me. No sense in making the black sheep any blacker.

The truth is, Elliott started ignoring me in junior high. For whatever reason that was, he ignored me. One day, we were riding our bikes to the creek, laughing, listening to music. The next day, I didn’t exist. It broke my heart. He was my best friend, then nothing. I admit, I became sort of an introvert at first as a result of the slight and it’s also why my mom thinks I stayed that way but in reality I stayed that way because I needed somewhere to sit at lunch and was forced to associate with the cheerleaders I was sort of friends with at the time. Wait, it becomes clear, read on.

These friendships of convenience were short lived because the girls found my personality ‘disconcerting’. I had no interest in cheering, the color pink, or any of the noise they liked to call ‘music’ but the kicker was when Taylor Williams developed her never ending crush obsession on Elliott Gray. She tried her darndest but he wasn’t noticing her and that meant there had to be a reason why.

Apparently, according to Taylor, I was that reason. I may have even survived my complete lack of  identifying within this social circle had I never been friends with Elliott in the first place because when Taylor found out that Elliott ‘dumped’ me as his friend she felt guilty by association. That meant I was the contaminant that needed flushing. Long story short, Elliott’s dumping of me was her cue to do the same. You know, a show of solidarity and obviously after that Elliott fell madly in love with her right? Anyway, they are the reason I decided that the only one I could count on was, well, myself. It is the reason I’m a loner.

I sit at my table, like I said, alone. It sounds lame but man, sometimes I like being alone. Reading is literally my favorite thing to do in the entire world. If I was being honest, I’d have to admit that I didn’t try very hard to make friends but then again they didn’t make it easy either.

I set my sack of carrots on my lap, prop my feet on the chair next to me and start reading about Big Brother again. I almost forget about Elliott, almost. A stinging, buzzing sensation starts to creep into my chest and suddenly I hear, “I love that book.”

I glance with only my eyes and almost hyperventilate. It’s Elliott and he looks unbelievably sweet with his bulky black glasses and chin length black hair. He’s nervous, an extremely rare side of him. Only a handful of times had I ever seen him get nervous. He wasn’t even nervous that time in sixth grade when we almost slipped off the edge of the deep crevice by the old waterfalls and nearly went toppling to our deaths. He caught me and pulled me into his arms, consoling me. I was hysterical. He looked like he was barely bothered but now, now, he was fidgety and a light sheen had formed across his face. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and his long bangs stick to the side of his face.

“Carrots, huh?” He asks. He’s reaching.

I roll my eyes to prevent myself from giggling.

“Those are good for the eyes, I’ve heard. I see they’ve done wonders for your teeth too. Texas A&M did that study a few years ago. Did you hear about it?”

I don’t respond.

He continues, “No? Well a few years ago they developed a carrot that helps people absorb forty one percent more calcium than when they consume a regular carrot. Interesting right? Genetically altered vegetables?”

Oh my gosh. I feel like bursting out laughing he's so adorable. I’m not gonna’ make it.

“I certainly found that interesting,” he chuckles nervously. The cutest sound I’ve ever heard. “You may not, or maybe you did, I’m not sure. It’s certainly something a braniac should find interesting. You’re a braniac, right? I mean, you’re always reading, so I assumed. Not that I claim to be a braniac or anything. I’m of pretty average intelligence, I think.

I realize I should save him, throw a life preserver his way and all but I’m enjoying this sweaty version of Elliott way too much.

“Yeah, so, I heard they collaborated with Baylor’s College of Medicine in Houston. Houston’s a pretty crazy town or so I’ve heard. Supposedly the humidity is heck on girls’ hair. Your hair doesn’t seem to take on that much humidity. I’ve never seen it frizz anyway.”

He drums his fingertips on the table. A natural beat, something I’m sure he did absently, but definitely showcased that he was a learned drummer.

“As I was saying, it’s obviously done wonders for your teeth.”

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