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Greg scoffed, clearly not offended by my statement. "That's insane, Skye."
I shrugged, trying to piece things together in my mind. "Well, I can only speak from my own experience."
Greg rolled his eyes. "Well, I didn't ask for your experience."
I crossed my arms, feeling a surge of frustration. "Why? Are you afraid to accept the truth that Tresa doesn't date nerdy boys like you?"
"Says the girl who hasn't successfully dated a guy," he shot back.
A surge of heat rushed through me, and I couldn't help but respond. "I can date any guy I like!"
Greg smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. You sometimes act a little jealous, Skye."
"Me? Jealous of you?" I scoffed, trying to hide the sting of his words.
His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Yes, you are. Miss Bookworm hasn't dated a guy..."
"Shut up!" I spat, my frustration unraveling. "I've dated guys!"
Greg raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with mocking disbelief. "Really? Who?"
I felt my cheeks flush, and a surge of embarrassment washed over me. "The guys in my books, dummy!"
"Weirdo!" he cursed me under his breath so quietly that I almost didn't catch it. I could see the hurt in his eyes, even though he tried to hide it. "I better get going, Skye, before you decide to use that massive book of yours as a weapon against me!" Greg said, noticing how tightly I gripped the heavy book in my hands. And honestly, he wasn't wrong. In that moment, I was seriously tempted to use this book as a makeshift weapon and smack him right in the face.
Greg left, but the whole encounter left me feeling strange. Being called out like that was unexpected. I mean, I'm only seventeen and I've never been asked out or dated anyone.
I haven't even had my first kiss, except for that one time with Dax, but I try not to count that.
I always thought that dating wasn't really my thing, yet now that Greg pointed it out, I couldn't help but feel like the lonely single girl.
Normally, I wouldn't care about such things. But his words struck a chord with me, especially because all the girls in my class seem to be in relationships. Some of them are happy, but others... well, they're just not my cup of tea. But now, I can't help but feel a tinge of longing. Maybe dating isn't my cup of tea, but it would be nice to have someone who wants to get to know me on a deeper level.
Within the tapestry of my memories, a fragment of Greg Mendez lingered, a figure shrouded in complexity. We shared a common thread of nerdy traits, an affinity for knowledge that set us apart from our peers. Yet, an insidious nickname clung to him, "servant boy," a label whispered among our circle of acquaintances.
Despite our shared eccentricities, compatibility remained an enigma, an uncertain path fraught with doubt.
Greg Mendez possessed an unsettling resemblance to Dax, his bullying tendencies casting a dark shadow over his character.
Unlike Dax, Greg's tactics were covert, cloaked in secrecy, leaving an insidious trail of pain in his wake. Loathing consumed me, not only for Greg but for Dax's entire entourage.
Yet, I found solace in categorizing Greg as a mere classmate, a stranger in my midst, rather than entertaining the notion of a romantic connection.
The prospect of falling in love filled me with trepidation, a fear of having my heart shattered by the very emotion I yearned for. I foresaw Greg's inevitable heartbreak should he ever find the courage to pursue a relationship with Tresa.
In the depths of my imagination, I longed to be a fairy, a creature of ethereal beauty, capable of flitting through secret tales, unseen and untouched by the harsh realities of life. The realm of dreams held a particular allure for me, an escape from the confines of reality, where fantastical stories unfolded, offering a refuge from the complexities of human interaction.
Chapter Eighteen
Skye
I'm already back home, lying on my bed, completely exhausted from the laziness that consumed my day. My uniform clings to my tired body, my backpack abandoned on the floor beside me. A journal and pen are settled atop my chest, longing to capture the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. To my left, the novel I was engrossed in scatters across the bed, abandoned in the aftermath of my listlessness. My headphones dangle from my ears, though no music resonates within me. The tunes on my playlist fail to align with my current state of mind.
Once upon a time, I made the daring choice to kiss a boy. His presence evokes a symphony within my chest, an anthem of anticipation mixed with a haunting sense of loneliness. Tragically, he finds himself positioned as the antagonist of both my story and my reality.
"Skye, darling..." My mother's voice penetrates the silence as she exits my room, the door left ajar in my haste. Her surprise is evident in the way her eyes widen and her voice dances with enthusiasm. "I didn't realize you had returned from school already!" She glides toward me, perching on the edge of the bed. "So, how was your day, my love?" she asks, her curiosity blooming.
"Same old, boring routine," I reply, my words laced with a tinge of ennui.
