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“He says you’re kind, and funny, and that you’re a snitch.” He says it in a joking manner, but it instantly darkens my mood.
“What?” I look at him, my eyes narrowed in irritation.
Henry swallows, realizing quickly that he’s said something he shouldn’t have.
“I, well, he told me…” His words drift off, his leg shaking nervously again.
“That I’m a snitch?” I hiss, the harshness of my tone surprising me.
“I didn’t mean it like that – he just said that that’s what people say…”
“Great, thanks.” I grunt, hoping he doesn’t notice my reddening face or the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I pick up my things quickly, stuffing Jane Eyre roughly into a pocket of my bookbag.
“Wait, Georgia–”
“Don’t talk to me anymore,” I interrupt, my tone harsh and impersonal as I check my watch for the time and realize my class is about to start.
Thank God.
5 | Henry
WHY THE FUCK did I say that?
My first time ever talking to this girl alone and I insult her? Could I be more of a dick?
Natalia is walking beside me now, having caught up to me near the Chem building. I hear nothing more than incoherent murmurs as she speaks – my attention is focused entirely on the girl standing at the doors of the Liberal Arts building, reading a tattered book.
Why is she reading outside at 10 o’clock in the morning?Well, it’s not like you can ask her anymore, Anderson. Now that you’ve crowned yourself the fuck-up of the century.
Georgia was dressed more casually this morning than yesterday, fitting with the atmosphere of the hot summer day. Crisp white tennis shoes and jean shorts, with a low-cut blouse that I was trying desperately not to notice. Her top bared the logo of my football team right across the deeply scooped neckline, outlining her cleavage perfectly.
God, I’m such an idiot.
"Georgia – wait up!”
I catch her walking out of the Liberal Arts building around noon, after nearly 30 minutes of being assaulted by the Texas sun. As soon as I’ve called out her name, I instantly regret attempting to gain her attention and briefly consider hiding behind other students so she doesn’t see me.
You’re the captain of the goddamn Texas University football team, Anderson. Grow a pair of balls and talk to her. It’s not like it matters what you say anyway. She has a boyfriend.
“Look, Georgia–” I start, approaching her apprehensively as she pauses on the pavement, a scowl between her brows.
“Back off, Henry,” she snarls, not glancing up from her page.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Please forgive me,” I whisper to her, scanning our surroundings in hopes Natalia isn’t nearby, ready to talk my ear off.
“No.” Her tone is colder than ice.
I want to be angry at her – it was an accident, I misspoke. Why is she punishing me so hard, when we’ve only just met? But I can’t bring myself to be upset. I stand and look at her, this time much more freely as her gaze remains towards her book. Her thick chestnut hair is again curled in the same retro fashion, taking me back to early crushes on Jennifer Aniston and Denise Richards. Her makeup highlights her high cheekbones, and the small bump on the bridge of her nose seems to add depth to the beauty of her features.
I can’t be mad at her.
“If you forgive me, I’ll get you two free tickets to my game.”
I smirk at her, confident that this will push her towards forgiveness. Any student at Texas University would kill for a front-row spot at our games – and I wouldn’t mind seeing her cheering for me from the sidelines.
“Not interested. I study after my classes.” She shoots me an unimpressed look.
“I’m the captain of the team,” I say, realizing how douchey it sounds the second it leaves my lips. “I-I could get you one of my jerseys.” The second sentence does little to redeem the douchey-ness of the first.
