Class was almost over, and the butterflies in my stomach were making me feel sick. A combination of anxiety, anticipation and the thrill of mischief fueled my restless impatience.
I squirmed in my seat, silently willing the clock to tick faster. The second hand seemed to be crawling around, as if in slow motion.
Come on, come on, come on.
After class, my best friend, Chelsea, and I were planning to ditch our Physics test and chill at her house.
A buzz in my pocket almost made me jump out of my seat. I looked at the screen:
Meet by band hall
, said the text from Chelsea. A new rush of butterflies went through me as I read the message. We had agreed to skip the test without telling the rest of our friends, and I knew it might cause a stir when the professor took attendance and discovered we were absent.
Oh, well
, I thought, glancing at the clock once more. Just one more minute. Mr. Bosnic was droning on about the upcoming microbiology exam and which chapters to study. I tried to pay attention, but I knew I would ace the test even without studying. This stuff just stayed in my head without much effort. I did a quick mental inventory of the important bits in the chapters Bosnic had listed.
Yep, got it, check. Yeah, okay, I'll be fine. Maybe just review a bit.
"Alrighty, I'll see y'all next time!"
Finally, dismissal. I snatched up my backpack, slung it on my shoulder, and rushed out the door into the already crowded hallway. Making my way to the stairs, I weaved through the stream of students rushing to their next class. My breath felt short and rushed, though it was not from any physical effort. Being on the varsity soccer team meant moving fast was easy, yet it felt harder and harder to breathe as I got closer to our meeting spot.
Walking fast, eyes scanning the crowd, I searched for my friend near the entrance. Finally, I spotted the paisley pattern of Chelsea's backpack. She seemed to be searching for me from the wrong direction. I snuck up behind her and said, "Hey!" surprising Chelsea by playfully tickling her sides.
Chelsea squeaked and jumped up, twisting towards me in response to the unexpected sensation.
"Ah! You jerk!" she exclaimed, playfully slapping my shoulder as she turned to face me, smiling.
I grinned in response, taking in every detail of my friend's smile. I loved making her smile. We looked at each other for a beat, before I broke eye contact and blurted, "You ready? We should get outta here."
"Yeah, let's go," said Chelsea, looking a little self-conscious. Neither of us was much of a rule-breaker. We walked out towards the parking lot, heads swiveling suspiciously as we made our way to her car.
We arrived at Chelsea's house relatively quickly, giggling at our mischief on the way inside. I wondered what might be going on back at school, and just as I had that thought, Chelsea asked, "Do you think they've noticed we're missing yet?"
"I dunno. Maybe they're watching the prof's random video of the day or talking about..."
A buzz in my pocket interrupted me. It was one of our friends, asking,
Where are you? Prof G won't start the test because you and Chels are missing.
I showed Chelsea, and she shrugged.
"Wanna watch something?"
"Sure. What do you feel like?"
"Whatever you want," Chelsea said in a curious sing-song tone that made my skin tingle. The way she said that sounded...
Nah, no way. I'm just reading into it,
I thought.
"Okay, let's just flip through channels. See what we see?"
Chelsea agreed, kicking off her shoes and daintily dropping onto the couch with her feet tucked beneath her. She patted the space beside her, and I sat, fully aware of our intimate proximity despite the ample room on the couch. We settled on a show and got comfy. My mind, however, was on overdrive wondering what this stolen afternoon might hold for us.
After a while, Chelsea stretched out, moaning softly in the process, and rested her legs on my lap. The sound felt like a caress to my ears.
She must know what she's doing. It's driving me crazy!
I gladly accepted the contact and placed my hands on her ankles.
I sometimes struggled to read Chelsea when it came to touching her. She would often snuggle up against me because she was always cold, and I radiated heat. But there were times when she was distant and didn't want to be touched at all. It was puzzling to me.
I recalled a particularly hot day last year when the A/C on campus was cranked down to Arctic levels to keep the Texas heat at bay. At the table, Chelsea looked miserably cold, earning jests from our group of friends around her, who claimed she was just being dramatic.
She had pushed up her hoodie sleeve to show how bad her goosebumps were, and we were all surprised to see such intense bumps. They almost looked painful. I had only known her a few months then, but I instinctively reached out my hand on Chelsea's forearm to warm it up.
"Mmmm," was Chelsea's response as she closed her eyes and did a little happy wiggle in her chair. "You are so cozy! You're officially my new human furnace," she declared.
The exchange had elicited chuckles and laughs from the group, but I knew I was in serious trouble. I felt a familiar, painful pang in my chest at the touch of my friend's soft skin.
Yours
, I thought with hopeless longing.
