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“I’m sorry about that.” He adjusts the strap of his book bag on his shoulder. “I was trying to figure out where I’m supposed to be and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” He holds up a single paper in his other hand.
“That’s okay,” I stutter out, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. “I take it you’re new here?” I gesture to the schedule he’s holding.
He nods, rocking back on his heels. “Today’s my first day. Hence the not knowing where I’m going part.”
I let out a nervous laugh, internally kicking myself for how stupid I probably look.
“Here.” I reach for the paper. “Let me help you.”
He allows me to take the schedule. I feel his eyes on me as I look it over, and even though the thought of his attention makes me more self-conscious than it should, I also really like it.
I have to physically restrain myself from smiling when I see we have two classes together and share the same lunch period.
So he’s a Junior, like me.
“Most of your classes are all clumped together. Other than Spanish and AP Lit, which are in the west wing,” I nod to the right, “all your other classes are in the East Wing.” I hand his schedule back to him. “Go that way.” I point to the left. “When you reach the end of the hallway, turn right. You should be able to find everything from there. The west wing is the same, except on the opposite side of the building. The classrooms are all numbered and labeled with the teachers’ names so you shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“Thank you so much.” He takes the schedule back, rewarding me with a smile that steals my ability to breathe for a long moment.
Of course he has dimples... As if he couldn’t be more perfect, why not add dimples into the mix. And not justanydimples either. Deep, defined ones that take over his entire face.
Sigh...
“Well, good luck,” I say after several beats of silence have bounced between us. As much as I would love to stand here and stare at him all day, I do have a class to get to. One that I’m getting later for by the second.
I step around him, clinging to the scattered mess of books and papers in my arms.
“Hey,” he calls out after I’ve moved a few paces from him.
I stop, looking back at him over my shoulder.
“I didn’t catch your name.” He smiles again and damn if my knees don’t wobble a little at the sight.
“Hope,” I manage to choke out. “Hope Russell.”
“Alec Murray.” He gestures to himself. Another smile. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Hope.”
“Yeah. It was nice meeting you, too.” I nod, ducking my face as I turn and continue to my class.
