Hey guys. I promised I'd update more often but I highkey picked a bad time to say that(seeing as I vanished into thin air for what? Almost a month?) I'm super busy. New school, two projects, extra home-work, drama with my man who's not my man because we like each other but are too much of cowards to say it to each other's faces and business. By business I mean actual business with setting up a for opening commissions on my art Instagram(in my bio if you wanna follow me and although I haven't opened commissions yet E-mail me if you wanna know wassup)

Anyhow PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave me a review so I can know what you guys are thinkin'. This story has 0 reviews and it lowkey makes me sad. Also reviews motivate me to write because it lets me know you guy actually are into what I'm doing for y'all. Any who let's get on with it.


CHAPTER 7: CUT IT OUT

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Could you please, stop that?"

"Sorry."

I stopped tapping my pencil on the table and nervously looked around for something to do. Song writing's boring. But Elsa wanted to get this project done as soon as possible so she could focus on other things, as she put it. So here we were, on a Saturday morning, sitting in Duke's, working on our song for music class. She was silently scribbling in her notebook with her earplugs in, probably listening to other songs for inspiration, I thought. I gazed down at my notebook that lay flat on the desk. Blank. I have no idea what I'm doing. She wrote most of the lyrics we presented in class. It's been at least fifteen minutes and we haven't even come up with a rhythm for the chorus yet. How much longer will this take?

"Cut it out..."

I had been doing it again. I blushed nervously and put the pencil down, mumbling another apology. She grunted with frustration and continued working. I took a mental note to stop being so annoying in front of a pretty girl. Not that she was that pretty. But she still was. She looked different out of uniform. Her platinum blond locks in a french braid draped over her shoulder. Purple tank top and teal skinny jeans displayed her shape much more accurately than her pleated shirt or gym shorts ever could. She was pretty. She was also looking right at me. Once again I had begun to stare at her without even realizing it. She raised an eyebrow, somewhat confused somewhat annoyed.

"Sorry, I was just.. thinking," I attempted to defend my stalker-ish behaviour.

"You do an awful lot of that, huh? Shocking," she responded coldly and continued to write.

"So... tank top in early fall?"

"Uh-huh." She didn't look up.

"And partially wet hair in an air conditioned room, yesterday?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you feel sick? Like, at all?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Wow... I guess the cold never bothered you, huh?"

She stopped. Looked at me. Then hastily she jutted something down, a light smile gracing her lips.

"What? What'd I say?"

"Keep talking about random shit, you're giving me ideas."

"Oh. Um.. alright I guess..."

She sat there, staring at me like a child waiting for class to be over or something. So, expectantly. I scratched my head and let my eyes rest where they may, hopefully they'd fall on something worth commentating on. Eventually they landed right back on hers, and she was still waiting. You're really pretty... Her eyes widened and a scarlet blush dusted across her cheeks, melding with her freckled nose. Averting her eyes she began to fiddle with the ends of her braid. I said that out loud, didn't I?

"Yeah..." she was still looking away, playing with her hair and most importantly, still blushing. "Yeah you did..."

"Wait, did I say that out loud too?"

She nodded.

I mentally facepalmed and looked away from her before I said something stupid again. I could hear her shuffling around and kind of see her in my peripheral vision. Then I saw her stop and glare at me. I turned to her, baffled and her gaze softened to a look of someone having a 'eureka' moment.

"Don't stop."

"Don't stop, what?"

"The tapping thing."

I looked at my hands. I had been tapping on the table again. The same exact tune from earlier.

"Did you hear the song you're tapping this morning?"

"Actually, no I've never heard this before in my life."

She began to hum to herself, the same rhythm that I was tapping so absentmindedly. Still humming she continued to write and write and write, until she wasn't writing anymore.

"Jackson I-don't-know-your-middle-name Overland, you are a genius!"

"I am? Well I mean we know this but.. what makes me a genius again?"

She giggled and showed me her notebook. There were random letters, and symbols, the occasional doodle of a snowflake and other miscellaneous markings, including phrases. 'The cold never bothered me anyway', 'Let it go', 'That perfect girl is gone', 'Like the rise of day', in particular grabbed my attention. Why was she showing this to me? What are these symbols even supposed to mean? I looked up at her raising an eyebrow.

"I wrote the notes for what you were tapping, you dingaling."

"Oh...!"

"That's actually a pretty neat tune, and to think you came up with it out of no where."

"Well when you're a genius!"

Chuckling she returned her book to her hands once more, and wrote in a sparkly pen 'Let It Go'. Smiling she continued to write, with me also giving my input. The words seemed to flow so naturally now that we were actually interacting. I'd say the most random things and she'd compliment my forwardness before editing my phrases, turning them into something beautiful that fit. It continued like this for about another hour or so. We wrote, talked, joked, ate, laughed and I think she was actually having a good time. That would be a first. After some time of chatting and almost wrapping up our second verse, my phone buzzed. It was a notification reminder I set on my calendar. Getting out of my seat I began to gather my belongings, kind of rudely cutting off Elsa in the middle of her sentence.

"Sorry, I gotta go.."

"What for?"

"Driver's test crap."

"Just turned sixteen?"

"No... Just turned American."

"Oh. You don't have an accent for a non-native."

"Well Saskatchewan isn't that far."

"Canadian? I never would have guessed. I've never heard you say 'aye' before," she laughed to herself.

"Literally only 2% of the people who say 'aye' are Canadians being Canadian."

"What about the other 98%?"

"Well 37% are Americans making fun of Canadians."

"And the rest?"

"Canadians making fun of Americans making fun of Canadians."

"Oh, I see..." she intertwined her finger, in an attempt to pretend to be serious.

I smiled and swung my bag over my shoulder, "So I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you around, Jackson."

She didn't seem like she was leaving soon so I shrugged it off and made my way to the door. I gave her a final wave before sauntering down the sidewalk. Does group work always go this smoothly?


"Overland, Jackson?"

"That'd be me, yeah."

"Alright, kid. So I'm here to make sure you don't break the law and can get the car actually moving. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah I guess so, Mr..."

"McQueen. Lester McQueen."

"Okay, Mr. McQueen."

"Please, that makes me sound old. Just Lester's fine."

"Alright then, Lester."

"Ready?" the blue eye blonde clicked his pen as he inquired.

I put my hands at ten and two, checked my mirrors and made sure I was comfortable in my seat. Without another word I started the car, revving the engine as I did so.

"Kachow."


Sorry again for the late update. Its February 12th and I would have updated yesterday but my wifi is ass these days and it deleted what I wrote when I tried to save, and that just pissed me off so I decided to work on art instead. So I'm going to upload this and get working on my favourite story right now, PIRATE MEET PRINCES! AAAAAHHH! If you haven't checked it out yet you should give it a read. Also I want to start Questions Of The Day so here's today's question for this story:

QOTD: Do you think I type to much dialogue? So review your answer and tell me what you think of the chapter.

Bye guys. Until next time(also I have a week off school so I might update again soon)