Chapter Text
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Making the bed by Olivia Rodrigo
❝ Well, sometimes I feel like I don't wanna be where I am
Countin’ all of the beautiful things I regret
But it’s me who’s been making the bed.❞
I walked out of class to find Hazel already waiting for me at the door. She was holding two cups of coffee, one that has a plug at the top and one she's drinking from.
“Latte with extra foam?” she asked, handing it to me.
“You know me too well,” I replied, taking a long sip. “It’s the same order I’ve had since high school.”
“Are we having lunch with the group today?” I asked as we started walking.
“Yeah–” Her reply was cut short when she bumped straight into someone in front of us, her coffee spilling on her and, well, someone else I'd rather not know at all. Kenji Li, the same guy I’ve hated since we met.
“God, watch where you're going, Hazel!” He scowled as he wiped his coffee soaked shirt with his hand.
“Sorry JJ, but you're on the wrong side of the hallway. It's your fault,” She shot back sternly as she threw her cup into the trash a few feet away.
“You don’t have to be a d*ck about it, Kenji. You sound like my trig teacher,” I muttered.
He looked up quickly and shot me a glare before walking away to the restroom, tension left coiling in my chest. Some people really do have the magic of ruining good mornings.
A hand on my shoulder woke me from my freeze. “Dont mind him,” Hazel said. “He’s just grumpy because Adrianna’s been trying so hard to get his attention this morning.”
“Maybe she’ll succeed, and he’ll stop acting like everyone and everything personally offended him,” I said as my gaze lingered near where he exited. I started walking towards the door that leads outside to the tables we use for lunch as Hazel hopped along behind me and rambled about some guy in her class. I always told her it's the coffee that makes her so hyper, but she's convinced it's just her ‘natural personality’– Obviously, I never believed that. The heavy smell of coffee beans clung to Hazel, giving me all the evidence I needed, but I let her have her moment anyway.
As we pushed through the heavy doors, the hot air hit us hard. Hazel changed topics every few minutes from a guy in her class to a person three tables over from where we were and their terrible footwear choice. I pulled my chair out, the metal scraping against the concrete, my mind glued frustratingly onto thoughts of him. I placed my bag down absently when Hazel finally paused. “You're doing that thing again,” she whispered to me, gesturing vaguely in my direction. “The thing where you're here physically but mentally still somewhere else.” She said before glancing around and grabbing my arm while she dragged me behind a tree in the opposite direction of our friends' confused faces, notebook still clutched under my arm.
“Hazel, what are you–”
“Spill. Was it the eyes, the walk, or the way he actually looked back at you this time?” she demanded, quick and quiet.
I opened my mouth to deny it, blame it on lack of sleep or maybe the upcoming trigonometry test, but there was no lying to her when she's like this. “Is it that obvious?” I groaned, throwing my face into my hands in embarrassment.
“Oh, honey. What about him got you so caught off guard?”
I grumble. “I don't know,” I admit, pausing and removing my hands from my face. “He just… has a way of looking through me like no one else does– it's unnerving.”
“Unnerving means interesting, which must mean he's into you,” she whispered over the loud lunch hour, insistent. I looked down at my notebook. I was supposed to be reviewing for my next class, but the lines blurred into his silhouette at the door.
“Lana, just remember,” she said, her voice softening. “People like him? They’re usually looking for something specific. If you're gonna let him look at you, make sure you like what he’s seeing.”
I hesitated, remembering his departing words before the five minute warning bell cut through my silence.
“Ugh, saved by the bell,” she groaned as she got up, grabbing her coffee and bag. “We're talking about this later in the dorms and you're not getting out of it. I want details, preferably unfiltered, unedited, and juicy.” She headed towards the group of students walking back into the building, leaving me to dwell in silence. I stood up, debating to take his path to see where it led– but I'm not the type of girl to skip class just to solve a small mystery, so I walked back to the main building.