fifteen. a heart is drawn around your name

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LIZZY MCALPINE IS playing through the headphones over my ears as my pencil runs over the page of the sketchbook on my desk. The soft melodies float into my ears and lay down to rest in my battered soul. My hand moves across the paper as waves crash onto the shore. Desperate, frantic, eager, yearning for something just out of reach.

"Same Boat" starts to play, causing my mind to wander into treacherous waters. I'm suddenly reminded of last night. Cerulean blue eyes. Blonde curls. A heartwrenching grin. Skin on skin.

Am I the only one feeling a strange sort of electricity between us? Thinking back to the way Jeremiah pretended to be my boyfriend, consoled me when I was down, brushed his fingers against my bare back, I can't help but think that maybe he's feeling it too.

Ever since he found out I was only mean to him because I wanted to be friends with him, it seems as though the air between us has changed. Like the revelation made something click in his brain and he has started to see me differently.

Maybe see me in the way I see him.

The thought is premature, but I can't seem to find it in myself to see reason. Maybe it was stupid to think that I could make him fall for me, but when he looks at me with those soft eyes, it's impossible not to wonder if we truly are in the same boat.

I feel like a giddy schoolgirl whose celebrity crush remembered her name. I roll my eyes at myself. How is it that a mere boy makes me lose all sense of rationale and reason? Except, I guess he isn't just a boy. He's the only person who has ever made me feel like this. Perhaps, I will never feel this way for anyone else again.

The thought is too terrifying to dwell on, so I dispel it from my head. Sighing, I set my pencil down and go to change the song. Between the music and my never-ending thoughts, I don't hear the approaching footsteps behind me.

Not until my sketchbook is in the air, in someone else's hands. Eyes widening, I rise from my chair and drag my headphones down to my neck. When I turn, I find mischievous eyes twinkling down at me.

I don't have time to lose my sanity over how beautiful he looks right now because my sketchbook is in the hands of the boy whose face is all over those pages. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I take my headphones off completely and set them down on my desk. I leap forward and try to grab the sketchbook back from Jeremiah before he finds out how I actually feel about him.

"Jeremiah! Give me my sketchbook back!"

"Nah."

I go to my tiptoes to reach it, but he lifts it even higher and smirks at me. Panic sets deep in my veins when he looks up at it and starts flipping through the pages. In a desperate attempt to get it back, I push him against the edge of my desk which catches him off guard. One of my hands is on his chest while the other raises to try to reach for the book.

I miscalculate the amount of force I used to push him because he stumbles and his hand darts out to grab my waist in order to steady himself. Warmth seeps through my skin, through my flimsy shirt, but I ignore it because I am a girl on a mission.

I reach even higher to get to the book, but he's too tall, and his arm is literally the same size as the neck of a giraffe.

"Fuck, Jeremiah," I cry out in frustration.

My gaze meets his. He swallows visibly, eyes glazing over as they dart between mine. His lips part. Under my hand, I can feel his heart beat rapidly against his chest. I'm not sure if I imagine the way his hand tightens around my waist.

In his daze, I turn my attention back to my sketchbook and reach for it. However, he snaps out of his trance and leans away from me, stepping back too quickly for me to realize he's moving.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃, jeremiah fisherWhere stories live. Discover now