Malia
The rest of the afternoon dragged, each class blurring together in a haze. By the time the last bell finally rang, I felt wrung out.
Not because of homework or lectures, crazily enough, none of that had even stuck in my head, it was because I had spent every single class trying not to think about the way Maverick’s leg had nudged mine under the cafeteria table and how my body responded, or the way Ethan had smiled at me like we were still perfectly fine.
Both things tangled together in my chest until I barely knew what I was feeling.
I shoved my books into my bag and let myself get swept along in the crowd spilling into the hallway, already picturing the quiet of the bus ride home.
It wasn’t the most glamorous of rides, but it was familiar and predictable, exactly what I needed
