The Breakup Artist by Shannen Crane Camp

Author:Shannen Crane Camp [Camp, Shannen Crane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Cedar Fort, Inc.
Published: 2011-12-12T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I scanned the crowd during break, a nervous anticipation growing in my stomach. This was the first time since I’d met David that I was looking for him because I wanted to talk to him, rather than trying to avoid him like the plague. I half expected him to just pop up behind me like he always did, but perhaps I’d hurt his ego during our last encounter. Trying to ignore that possibility, I walked through the quad and over to my spot near the library, hoping he might be waiting for me there. The spot, however, was empty, just waiting to absorb the girl who had no friends and no family. I looked glumly at the empty wall before sliding to my normal place on the ground and resting my head on my knees. I was wearing white pants, so this probably wasn’t the best place to sit, but I had far more important things on my mind at the moment. Perhaps I hadn’t thought my brilliant plan through all the way. I hadn’t anticipated the possibility that David might not want to talk to me now. After all, I couldn’t expect him to wait around forever, though you’d think after waiting for a year, one class period wouldn’t really break his spirit.

I vaguely registered the presence of a warm body sliding down to sit beside me and when the miraculous smell that belonged to David hit my nose, a grin plastered itself to my face. I looked up at him, noting that he didn’t look particularly mad at me, just a bit resigned. “I wasn’t going to bother you but you looked a little sad,” he said dully. I could see his green eyes scanning my face, and when they took in the smile that I’m sure looked a bit maniacal, he smiled back tentatively. “So are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful,” I replied happily. “At least I think I am . . . or I will be.” He looked at me as if I were crazy, which seemed to be a normal expression for him, and I simply beamed back. “I think this could work,” I said finally.

“Wait, this as in this?” He motioned to himself and then me, implying that I meant “us.”

“Well, I was thinking about it, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to actually talk to someone other than myself, and make plans with someone other than myself, and . . . oh that’s right, actually have a friend other than myself.” He smiled at this and scooted closer, apparently coming to the decision that I wasn’t about to bite his head off.

“I’m glad you find me worthy to be in your presence, oh great one,” he said dramatically. I shoved him in the shoulder but went on, undaunted by his sarcasm.

“I mean it. I actually like you. Despite the fact that you’re self-righteous and frustrating, and you’ve been following me around for a year, which is pretty creepy—”

“Please don’t flatter me, you’re making me blush,” he said in a monotone voice.

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