"You know, this is stupid"... I ranted, "I don't need anyone editing my work, there is nothing wrong with it."
"Actually, Edwards, If I'm not mistaken, you received a "C", so just relax and let me read it over."
I really didn't mind that Eli was proof reading my English assignment, and the fact that I received a "C" didn't bother me either, but something about having this boy sitting at my kitchen table put my stomach in knots. I barely even know him!
"What do you mean by this? "
He leaned in closer and pointed to one of the very obvious grammatically incorrect run on sentences that I scribbled down late last night.
"I don't know, you're the one editing it! " I snapped back sarcastically, which I immediately regret.
He just kept reading. I don't know why I was being so mean to him. I felt like I was back in grade four when all the boys would pull my pig tails for attention. He picked up his red pen and hesitantly circled a word: "infatuaton". As if he didn't know what I meant.
"It's good Clare, you're getting it. Maybe you should just work a little more on your last topic, it's... lacking"
I could not believe I was actually taking academic advice from Eli Goldsworthy. I mean, he drives a hearse! At this point, I was too annoyed for the use of sarcasm.
"Yeah, I'll work on it."
There was a look on his face, like he was holding something back. I might have questioned that if he gave me the chance.
"You know, Edwards..." I hated that he insisted on calling me that, "...You're not very convincing. I spend all this time editing your 'already perfect' essay and you just brush me off." He said jokingly, followed by one of his witty side smirks, like he even needed it.
I didn't even know what to say.
"I don't see your essay scattered on my kitchen table, Goldsworthy. "
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, I already knew that he didn't do it. Something about his lack of interest towards anything other than the color black was unusually fascinating to me.
"Romeo and Juliet is not really my style Clare. I don't do romance." He said as he frantically re-arranged my papers. Was Eli Goldsworthy nervous? As I watched him pack his notebook and binders up my mind raced uncontrollably. Then his green eyes glared at my essay one final time, I wish I knew what he was thinking.
"I guess we're done, Edwards." I couldn't stop wondering what was going on in that mind of his. "We should maybe, you know, exchange numbers in-case I happen to get my essay finished tonight and need my English partner to edit it." There was that smirk again.
After Eli left I must have sat at that table for an hour, just thinking. Did he really just ask me for my number? He could have just waited until Monday for me to edit his essay. Does he actually want to hang out with me tomorrow? Maybe he really just needs someone to look over his English work. Maybe this is all in my head. There is no way I actually like Eli Goldsworthy...