4
E
I've spent a lot of time pretending to ignore Bella Swan while secretly cataloging every little thing she says or does. She's gotten superb at holding one-sided conversations since we got paired together for the semester. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her, but it couldn't be further from the truth. The girl's got me tied up in knots. She has since day one.
I don't know how to talk to her. When I try to come up with something smart to say, something to impress the unattainable girl, my tongue swells in my mouth and I freeze up. It's easier to let her think I dislike her instead of embarrassing myself.
"I love chocolate," she mumbles after looking over our assignment for the day.
"All girls do," I blurt out.
All girls do?
ALL GIRLS DO?
This is why I can't hold a conversation with her. Just looking at her. Smelling her sweet scent and I go completely stupid.
Bella smiles a goofy smile. "That's true. I'd sell my soul for a bag of Hershey's kisses any day."
I smile because she sounds just like my little sister. Alice is five-years-old, and I think she snorts cocoa powder behind my mom's back.
Bella shakes her head and whispers something before pulling a pen out of her bag. "We should get to work."
She doesn't move the sheet of paper but leans in a little closer.
Her hair smells like strawberries and cream, and I have to hold back a groan.
"Two times three-fourths cup?"
Her handwriting is overly girly, swirls and tiny hearts for titles.
She continues reading the questions aloud and answering them without my help. This started shortly after we were paired together. When I stayed quiet, she took it upon herself to adapt.
Once she's finished, Bella slides the paper toward me so I can check her answers.
As always, her math is correct. She's smart as a whip. I never have to rectify her answers.
Who would have guessed culinary operations would make me look dumb as a doornail?