Hello darlings :) I know that it's been forever, and I'm sorry!
ANNOUNCEMENTS: please please please go check out The Stories of Our Lives, my one shot collection, and review and leave requests (all will be taken besides slash.) Also! You should totally go read fearless523's stories, because they're ah-mazing!
References to Macbeth and Titanic, which I do not own.
Brylee and James had made it to and from the grocery store last night without any more awkward situations like what happened in the car. They talked about everything, their families, their friends, their jobs, but they both stayed away from that one topic.
Each other.
They didn't want to bring up the relationship they had eight years ago, or what was going on now because something would be said about how they felt now by one or the other, and they were afraid the opposite didn't feel the same.
They just didn't know that both of them wanted that relationship again. James wouldn't admit it because he thought Brylee figured he had moved on, and that she wouldn't want to get her heart broken again. Brylee wouldn't admit anything because technically, she was in a relationship, even though it was the shittiest thing ever, and to be totally honest, she didn't want to get her heart broken that badly again.
She didn't think she could handle trying to heal her heart after being broken by the same guy again. She had given him her all when they were teens, and she thought she was over the devastation of them breaking up, but now that James was back, truth was, she wasn't.
Brylee let out a sigh, wondering why she couldn't even get James off her mind while she was at work. It was Monday, but thankfully it was last period, and her class was taking a short vocabulary quiz. The day only had about fifteen minutes left, and Brylee couldn't wish more for it to go by faster.
She stood up from her desk, then walked in between the rows of students, glancing at a few of them as she walked by, her black heels clicking on the floor. She went to the board and erased the notes she had her students take there earlier in class as they tried to figure out what Macbeth was actually saying.
Brylee had to admit, it reminded her of when she was in English, back in eleventh grade when she met James, and she spent all those hours at his house trying to get him to understand it. Of course, at first, they strictly stuck to the studying, but as their relationship developed, the studying would move to the couch, where they'd always end up making out when they were alone, then they'd eventually end up in James' bedroom, his hands up her shirt and under her bra.
Stop it, she scolded herself. You're at your job.
She placed the eraser back on the ledge, then turned back to her class, eyeing up her less responsible students. She'd never caught them cheating, but something inside her told her they would. She knew she probably shouldn't think that of any student, but she was only human.
James wondered down the hall, in search of the right room. He didn't know why he was here, or why he wanted to do this now, but he just couldn't stand this anymore. He had to initiate something, just to see if there was anything there anymore.
He was sure there was, because when he first saw her again, he got that same feeling. His mouth went dry, his throat swelling slightly, his stomach lurching, like he was going to throw up or something.
He found the door, a plain, thick, wooden one with a silver handle, a window on the left hand side, but it was covered with quotes written on different colors of construction paper. He recognized a few of them from movies he was forced into seeing, as well as books he'd read.
One said "If you jump, I jump." He grinned, remembering the countless times he had watched that movie with her, his arms wrapped around her body as she cried when Jack died. And to be honest, that's how they were back then. They were in it together, there for each other. And James needed that again.
He lifted his hand up, then knocked lightly twice.
Brylee was about to walk back to her desk when someone knocked on the door, and she walked over and opened it, surprised to see James, of all people, standing in the hallway, his hands in his pockets. He wore jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket, and he had a small smile on his face which she found outrageously adorable.
James was now two feet away from that gorgeous face, those brown eyes, those pink lips. She stood just inside the doorway, her hand still on the silver knob, in a pink sweater, a gray skirt and black tights.
"Hi," she said, looking confused, but she was smiling. "What are you doing here?"
"You told me to come visit you during class, so I am," he said.
"You are aware there's only, like, eight minutes of school left, right?" she asked, opening the door a little bit wider.
James nodded and chuckled before saying "I know. But Ashley couldn't give me a ride before this."
"You made your sister drive you here?" Brylee asked, and after he nodded again, she slapped his arm. "She's a busy girl; you shouldn't make her do that!" The taller man just shrugged, then stepped into her classroom, which had posters of literary devices and motifs all around the room.
Everyone in the class, who were all done with their quizzes, looked up at this foreign visitor, and some of the girls practically swooned, and Brylee noticed. She knew if she was in their position, though, she'd be doing the same thing.
"Guys, this is my friend James," she said, gesturing toward him as she collected the quizzes, trying to hide the blush on her face.
James sat in an empty desk in the back of the room as he waited for those last eight minutes to go by, and he picked up a stray copy of Macbeth. He remembered how he had spent so freaking long trying to figure out what the characters were actually saying, and how much shit he got from Brylee about not paying attention when their teacher explained it, or something like that.
Now, though, the room was empty, the bell not even ringing a minute ago. James figured it was now or never, literally, so he stood up, taking the book with him. "This was on the desk," he said to Brylee, who was crouched down, digging through a filing cabinet.
"Oh," she said, standing up and smoothing a hand over her skirt. "Thanks."
She took it from him, and their hands brushed against each other, and she felt heat shoot through her body. She cleared her throat as she turned her back to him and put it on the shelf. She remembered every little thing he'd ever done with his hands, pushing hair out of her face, wiping tears away, and then there was all those...other, personal things he'd do with his hands.
"So, um, I was wondering…" James trailed off, then wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Brylee turned around and waited patiently. James had never really asked her out. They were friends, who just got closer and closer until they kissed that one night, and there was no discussion that they wanted to date. Sure, he'd ask her to go to the movies and things like that, but this was different.
This was like they had never dated before, and he was admitting his crush to her. Or at least, Brylee thought he was doing that.
"If, maybe, you'd want to go, go get coffee or something," he said, and immediately hated how fucking stupid he sounded with his stuttering.
Brylee smiled just slightly, her eyes seeming to shine. Could this be the beginning of a new millennium? Or was this just as friends? She'd have to see how they went about this "getting coffee."
"I'd really like," Brylee said.
James, personally, was shocked. She really was okay with this? He would've thought she'd never want to "go out" with him again, with all he did to her. But maybe she had changed. Or maybe she didn't take that as a date.
Either way, he didn't care. This girl was going to be his again.
