AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was wearing jeans and those fuzzy boots girls seemed to like, along with a rich purple turtleneck. No makeup, same glasses.
Her hair was down, loose and straight and shining.
Perfectly average, probably, but Gabriel couldn’t look away from her.
Especially when her eyes met his across the classroom and something inside him uncoiled.
He could read the relief in her expression, the longing and sadness and desperation he knew were mirrored in his own. He wished he could hold her, could press his lips against her skin and whisper promises that he’d never hurt her, that he’d always protect her, that he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, that he’d do anything for her, always.
“Hey,” called out Taylor. “Look who decided not to look like a total loser.”
The girls around her snickered.
“That’s enough,” said Ms. Anderson.
Layne was blushing, pushing past the teacher’s desk, her eyes down now. She dropped in the chair beside Gabriel.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Her frenetic movement stilled. She peeked at him through the curtain of her hair. “Hey.”
“Check it out,” said Taylor, her voice loud again. “The burn victim and the pyro. Almost like Romeo and Juliet, right?”
Gabriel whipped his head around, but before he could get a word out, Layne’s hand latched on to his wrist.
“Don’t,” she hissed. “Anything you say, they’ll use it against you.”
He bit back the words and faced forward.
“Ignore them,” Layne murmured. Her hand softened, and she gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. “Just get out your notebook.”
Gabriel turned his head to look at her. His entire life was going to shit, but seeing her here was like finding a little glim-mer of light amid all the darkness. “Your hair is down.”
She blushed a little and moved to pull her hand back.
He caught her fingers, trapping them beneath his own. “It’s pretty.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
And she left her hand there until Ms. Anderson started talking.
Gabriel still couldn’t focus on class, but now his mind kept replaying the feel of Layne’s hand on his wrist, instead of all the turmoil of the weekend.
A note appeared in the middle of his desk.
I’m glad you’re okay.
He cast a glance right. Her cheeks were still pink, and he’d bet money that her heart was racing in her chest.
He wrote back.
I’m glad you’re okay. Thank you for
having your dad help me.
Her blush deepened. He watched her put her pencil to the paper.
He doesn’t want me to associate with you.
