3pm. School.

Class finished 15 minutes ago. I pack my history textbook into my bag, lifting my hoodie as I head out towards the quad. She walks out of the opposite class and our eyes meet as we nod to each other in greeting.

~

"So, Caine, what about her?" Mike asks.

I glance up from my book to where he was pointing. "Yeah, what about her?" I say.

"Don't you think she's pretty? I think so."

"'Pretty' isn't your type, Mike," I laugh.

He scoffs, "That doesn't mean I can't appreciate! So, what do you think?"

I look at her, really look, and answer, "She's beautiful."

"Hmm? What was that? Wanna try a little something? Perhaps a 'hello'? Or, you know, you could be straightforward and, like, ask her out?" he tries.

"Mike," I sigh, "No. I've decided to dedicate this year to anything but the folly of love. I don't want to jump back into a relationship so soon after what happened last year." I go back to my book, eager to end the conversation quickly.

"Okay then..." Mike turns around, evaluating the new kids. "What book are you reading? It's the first week of school and you're already turning your back on your social skills. What's it about anyway?"

"The Young Elites by Marie Lu. And I am not neglecting my social skills--on the contrary, these characters are fascinating. I may have found some new friends," I say, jokingly.

Mike grins. "Better than me?" he asks.

"Never," I reply.

"Is there a love interest? In the book, I mean."

"No..."

"Caine, seriously?" Mike says with disdain.

"What? It's barely present! It isn't even the main theme, okay? It's just there. It's not like I'm reading 'The Fault In Our Stars'."

Mike snorts. "Okay, okay. I'm just asking. You tend to use books as a crutch. And I really don't need to see you crying over two fictional characters again--that was shocking."

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm not the only one!" I point out.

"Doesn't matter."

"Still a good book," I add, muttering to myself.

"So you think she's beautiful?" Mike coaxes.

I give him a Joseph-Stalin-kill-all-who-interrupt-my-reading look, and mutual understanding passes between us.

"Can I just--?"

"I'm going to go play volleyball," I shout, already halfway across the quad.

Mike just laughs.