{ justwakeupstiles }

Summer shifted her books into the other arm, tugged her backpack up onto her shoulder a little, and started down the stairs at BHHS. Crowds of students swirled around her, flooding the halls as everyone prepared to head out — either home or sports or clubs, whatever they did after school. She planned to spend the next few hours in the library, in the chair that most of the student population recognised as hers, while her gregarious twin sister engaged in debate club.

Propping her feet up on the table, she opened her current novel and sent a mild glare toward the librarian, who was coming as usual to ask her to get her feet off the table. She didn’t know why they bothered; she was just going to put them back on the moment the librarian’s back was turned.

After a few chapters she noticed a boy approaching, and rolled her eyes. So it was going to be this game today. When would the boys realise that sending one of their number over to her to say, with badly concealed giggles, “So-and-so likes you but he’s too shy to say,” was never going to get them anything?