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Poppy waited for me at the top of the stairs. “Nice jacket.” Her eyes widened slightly when she got a good look at me, “I want all the details.”
“Just as soon as I come down from cloud nine.”
***
On Monday morning I sat in homeroom feeling a bit uncomfortable—Poppy had cut my hair on Sunday. She took four inches from the length, making it fall just past my shoulders, and she did something with the front so it fell in soft layers around my face. She also insisted I wear some of her clothes. I’d also worn Bastian's jacket, but had to leave it in my locker. As strange as it was to say, I missed having that piece of him with me—the smell of him had wrapped around me like a hug.
The staring started as I made my way down the hall to English. People generally didn't notice me—amazing what a makeover could do. Bastian was leaning up against the lockers when I turned the corner, but as soon as he saw me, he started in my direction. The look on his face, one of total male appreciation, made my toes curl. He didn't hide the very thorough perusal he gave me. “Morning.”
Such a simple word and yet there was nothing simple about how my body reacted to it: butterflies took off in my stomach and my body grew unaccountably warm. His hand came to rest on my lower back. “Shall we?”
I preceded him into class and we made our way to the back where I usually sat. Bastian took the seat next to me, but pushed it closer so we were only inches apart. The movement was not lost on the class as people turned around and gossiped as they did. Whether that was because he was sitting next to me or because of the makeover, I had no idea. He seemed completely oblivious. “How was your weekend?”
“Poppy had me watching a marathon of cooking shows. How about you?”
“I was counting the minutes.” What a thing to say. But before I could reply, a shadow fell over me.
“Sebastian, why are you sitting back here?”
His answer gave me chills. “You're blocking my view, one I happen to really like.” Kira turned and stared at me. I'm guessing by the look on her face that she didn't recognize me at first.
“Larkspur, what happened?”
It was a haircut and a change of clothes. What did she mean ‘what happened?’
“I was abducted by aliens over the weekend and they gave me a makeover.”
An odd look crossed over her face, “Is there something going on between you two?”
Bastian’s shoulders tensed and his voice turned oddly hard, in drastic contrast to what he actually said. “I hope so.”
Without conscious thought, I reached for Bastian's hand and pressed my lips to his palm. Our eyes were locked, but I could still sense the indignation pouring off of Kira—she was about to explode. He never took his eyes off of me as he curled his fingers around the kiss in his palm, mirroring my action from Friday night. Kira stomped off to her seat, but she could have been invisible with how much attention we paid her. During roll call, Mrs. MacIntosh made Bastian put his desk back, but that didn't stop us from spending the rest of the class staring at each other. I missed the entire lecture and I so didn't care.
At lunch I walked into the cafeteria to see Bastian waiting. To know he waited for me, had me feeling a lightness in my chest I never felt before. The difference a day made, or in this case a weekend. He went from avoiding me at school to seeking me out. It was a change that I could wholeheartedly get behind. As soon as he saw me, he walked over and reached for my hand. It was a simple gesture, reaching for my hand, and yet I craved the physical link to him. Loved that he seemed to crave it too. We got our food and settled at a table across the cafeteria from where Poppy and the others were sitting.
“Sorry, I should have asked if you wanted to eat at your friends' table.”
I could only stare in reaction because what guy would even think to ask that? He really was just about perfect. “I'd like to have lunch here with you.”
“I was hoping you'd say that.” He eyed my lunch and grinned, which I could only assume was because we got almost the same thing.
“I'm not the kind of girl to get a salad and pick at it. I like food, and since I walk to school every day, I let myself eat food, even pizza.”
“You live nearby?”
“Yeah, about three miles away.”
He was in the process of bringing his pizza to his mouth when he stopped. “Why don't you take the bus?”
“It doesn't come into my neighborhood.”
He put his pizza down and just stared at me, but I could see the temper burning behind his eyes. “And your aunt and uncle are okay with you walking every morning?”
“My uncle is up and out of the house before I even wake up. The girls don't need to leave for school until an hour after I've already left the house, so my aunt doesn't feel the need to get up until then. I don't mind the walk and when it gets colder, Shawn and Poppy come for me. I don't ask for a ride during the warmer months since mornings are theirs and I'm not a fan of being the third wheel.”
His voice was a barely audible rumble, “Son of a bitch.”
I wasn't sure what it was about this boy, because I didn't know him, and yet my need to offer him comfort was instinctual. I reached across the table and linked our fingers.
