The time was dragging terribly, not that I was watching it like a hawk.
Every time I looked at the clock it had barely moved, somehow remaining at ten minutes to seven for about an hour. I scrutinise myself in the mirror, pleased with my choice of a loose hoodie and joggers. I wasn't making an effort for him; hell no. I checked his address again on my phone, unable to believe he lived literally one block away from me. I guess that explained how I saw him on my way to school most days.
I kept going back to my inbox, just to see the name 'Cal' and the message with his address on. It led to me dreaming up all kinds of messages. I give myself a shake, deciding to just leave already. I was early, but I could walk slowly. I yell to my Mom that I was off to do homework with a friend and that I wouldn't be late.
I left the house, and walked slowly to Cal's. His house was almost a carbon copy of mine, except it was a corner plot, meaning it was slightly larger. I walk up to the door and take a deep breath before knocking. I recognise his mother, Alice, as she answers the door with a warm smile.
"Hi, Gretchen isn't it? Is Luke with you?" she peers behind me, looking confused.
"Ah, hey Mrs Fallon, no, it's just me. Cal and I are psychology partners...."
I shuffle uneasily on my feet, aware that my face was now beet red.
She nods with understanding, stepping back for me to go inside.
"I see. Well come on in, his room is on the top floor. Do you want a drink?"
I decline, instead making my way up the stairs, looking for the other set of stairs to reach the top floor. My legs were shaking as I made my way up the ladder like stairs to a dark wood door and knocked quietly. I heard his footsteps crossing the room, and the door swung open to reveal no other than Cal Fallon. He wore grey pants and a black vest that hung low over his chest, his incredible body on display for me to admire. He studies me for a moment, before he allows the door to open wide enough for me to squeeze past him. I purposely hold my breath, refusing to fall victim to that tantalising scent again.
Ok, I was in his room. HIS ROOM!
"Oh you're early. That's cute. Come in."
I had to stop swooning every time he spoke. He must be so used to this, I was just another girl to him. I decided then and there to stop being such a typical girl, and behave like I actually had a boyfriend, and a brain for that matter.
His bed was a mess, the curtains were closed and there were clothes all over the floor. He sat on the bed and patted the space next to him.
"Why do you look so scared whenever you are near me? We have to work together-you need to relax. I'm not going to try it on with you, I can assure you," he grins, and I feel a flash of annoyance as I remembered him with Krystal that morning.
Why? What did I just say to myself?! Here I was, jealous that he had kissed the school slut. Get a grip, Gretchen.
"Yes I know, I saw you with your girl this morning," I snapped, before I could consider my words.
His eyes widened as he turned to look at me, bemused.
"My girl, you say? When did I see you anyway?"
I shrug nonchalantly, as though I had hardly noticed.
"Krystal. This morning, I passed you on the way to school."
He gazed at me and smiled.
"Did you now? You should've said hey."
He didn't deny her being his girl, and this annoyed me more than anything else .
"I didn't think you had any spare oxygen for conversation Cal," I retorted, which only makes him laugh.
"Anyway," I huff, reaching for my bag.
He stopped me, his hand on mine as I froze, electricity running between us as we touched.
"Are you jealous? Could it be that the little Miss Girlfriend is jealous?"
He was so close to me I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wanted to punch him for being so right but instead I made a face at him and moved his hand away from me, reaching back into my bag.
"What? Don't flatter yourself." I deny with an eye roll, refusing to look at him.
I pull out two notebooks dramatically, handing him one as he looks at me.
"Here you go," I smile, wondering why he was gazing at me like that.
"So, you spill all your darkest fantasies for me, I write them down and tell your horny as fuck boyfriend so that he can finally have his wicked way with you? Wonderful, happy to help," he laughed bitterly as he lit a cigarette.
I open my mouth to respond, wondering how the hell he had worked out what was on Luke's mind, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
"What?! Why are you so crude? Can you PLEASE open a window, I don't smoke. Gross."
My heart hammered against my chest as I thought about my darkest fantasies. God Cal was such a smug bastard. He opened a window and sat in front of me against the door on the floor, leaving me on the bed.
"Ok, so talking therapy is when you speak to someone about any negative feelings... so we have to explore that..."
He gazed at me as he inhaled, making my thoughts tumble around in my brain. My words were stuck in my throat as I tried to regain my composure.
"So there are a few different forms of talking therapy, my personal favourite is interpersonal therapy. What about you?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"Do I look like I do therapy? I have no idea. Let's do that personal one you like."
I went down to his level on the floor and crossed my legs, and stared at him uncomfortably as I took a deep breath.
"I think we need to get to know one another."