Maybe You're Gonna Be the One That Saves Me

I laid on my bed with a pillow in my embrace as I was smiling to myself. It was pretty obvious that he had feelings for me – his attention and all that jazz – but I didn’t know he would ask me about that. I sighed, turning off the lamp on the nightstand and slowly drifted off to slumber.

* * *

I put on my blue beret and took my messenger bag off the small modern orange sofa from the corner of my room and rushed downstairs.

“Hi Mother, hi Father,” I said cheerfully and sat on my seat.

“Hi honey,” she replied. “Why so cheery?”

I smiled. “I feel like it.”

“You look more alive,” Father’s deep voice said from behind his newspaper.

“Oh, you actually looked at me behind your newspaper?”

“I didn’t. I sense it.”

“Darling, I know there’s something. Tell us what happened,” Mother encouraged and Father had placed his newspaper on his lap in interest.

I only smiled. “You’ll know.”

I started eating my cereal, quickly. When I was done, I stood up and pecked my parents on the forehead.

“What’s with the rush, sunshine?” Mother asked.

“Um – group work!” I lied before going out of the kitchen.

“Do you need the car?” Father shouted.

“I’m good, thanks!”

I went out of the house andwalked ran to the gate. I slammed my hands on the gate and he startled.

“Wow, why were you running?” he asked with a smile on his face.

I shrugged, still smiling, as I opened the gate and closed it when I got outside. “Morning exercise?” I grinned.

We then started walking toward the school. We had some conversations running – knowing Clayde, most of the conversations were unimportant but he told about them in a good way so we wouldn’t get bored. With that, I was pretty sure he was good at public speaking.

“Me? Speaking in public? No, no, no,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re quite a humor.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled anyway. He was just too adorable.

10 minutes later we arrived at school. First I accompanied him taking his books in his locker, and then it was his turn to accompany me taking my books in my locker. People were whispering, as usual.

“I think you should take off your poker face,” Clayde murmured.

“Huh?” I asked confusedly.

“Don’t you realize you’ve put it on since we entered the school?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I guess so…”

“Cut that off!” He slapped my arm as I was about to take my History book.

“Ow! Why did you do that?” I whined.

“Right, I’m supposed to slap your face since there’s no poker arm.”

I rolled my eyes at his goofiness, but I didn’t smile.

“Why are you not smiling? Not a bit?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I huffed as I shoved my History book into my bag. “Maybe because I’m used to the role Ice Doll.”

“Smile please?” he pleaded with his irresistible pleading face: puppy eyes and pouty lip. I groaned. “For me?”

I stared at him for a while before pulling on a small smile, only for a moment and pulled it off.

“Thanks,” he grinned.

“Anytime,” I muttered as I took some more things from my locker and then the bell rang.

“Ooh – French! I gotta get going. See you at lunch.” He bent down and kissed my forehead and people gasped. “To tell people that you’re mine,” he muttered, smiling warmly and lightly kissed my cheek and dashed off to his first class.

I stood there, blushing. “Stop looking!” I snapped to the others and slammed my locker closed.