Why the hell would I say that? Way to go, Beck. Great job at not sounding like a creeper, I deserve a gold star. There has to be something malfunctioning in my brain, too many blows to the head has broken my filter.

The thought of the dream has been in the back of my mind all morning, but like my bruise, I've been trying not to touch it. I don't need to think too much into it, none of this matters anyway. It's dangerous because nothing will come of my attraction, I need to stop with all the nonsense. Like talking to her about the dream in the first place.

Olivia raises her eyebrows, and I feel my face flush as I continue down the hall. It's hard to pretend I didn't just say something cringe worthy, and I want to concentrate on walking so I don't do anything else stupid. She taps my shoulder to get me to look at her again though, which I reluctantly do. Big mistake.

"So was it a good dream?" She winks and I almost trip over my feet, proving that I literally cannot do any fucking thing. 

"Or was it a nightmare about that dickhead from the party?" She's grinning at whatever she sees on my face, so I avert my eyes and force a laugh. She's making fun of me and I feel like dying.

"Yeah, something like that," I mumble, with a nod.

"Well there's someone like that at every party, I swear. We should have kicked him out." I just shrug, but she continues talking as we walk, "Justin wouldn't have been any help though. I had to get some of his friends to help me drag him in. I told him next time he's not drinking or smoking at all, I'm not a babysitter." 

Now I feel even more guilty for her having to deal with me, she must have had an awful night and I definitely didn't help.

"You guy's should come to the next one. Justin mentioned something about us all trying to hang out? He said his memory of the conversation is a little fuzzy though."

We make it to my locker and thankfully I can distract myself with the combination lock, instead of looking at her and blurting out an idiotic answer to that question. Momentarily I had forgot about the mess that awaits me, but when starting to open the door I hesitate. She's still standing over my shoulder, and I don't want her to see this mess and have to answer any questions. I'm hoping she is going to leave, but seconds pass while she stands there patiently waiting. Is she going to walk me to class or something? That's stupid, she wouldn't do that. I look back over my shoulder at her, and she smirks.

"Well we don't have all day." She nods at my locker. "Let's go, girl."

Oh no. She must think I'm such a pathetic loser who can't function that she thinks I need escorted to class. Despite recent events, I can take care of myself and don't need pity friends, thank you very much. I don't say any of this though because that will require too much talking.

I finally edge the door open, and am surprised that there is no longer a sticky mess. I mean the books are still damp, will need dried better and more than likely have ruined pages, but there is no longer syrup sprayed over everything. Still smells like maple though. There is a note, and recognizing the scrawl I pick it up.

I did my best -Em

I look around, wanting to thank her, but she's nowhere to be found. I definitely owe her one for this, even though she's going to act like it's no big deal. I may joke that Emma can be a terrible friend, but she always tries to help. I feel bad for her skipping, even though she probably enjoyed it. At least she is way better at coming up with excuses for teachers than I am, so hopefully will avoid getting in any trouble.

I pick up my stuff for next hour, turning back to Olivia who starts walking with me down the hall. She stops to grab her things, and even though I want to keep going, I wait awkwardly. It would be rude not to, since she did for me and we never ended the conversation. Maybe I should just shout out a bye and be on my merry way. 

Trying to not be in anyone's path is difficult in the narrow halls, and a few classmates send me glares. I shrink into myself as much as possible, and am not paying attention to Olivia when she turns back to me, reaching out and grabbing my arm. She did it to steer me in the right direction, but the pain that radiates from her touch causes me to jerk back with a hiss. I grimace and bump into someone behind me when I lurch backwards. They shove me back out of their way, pushing me foreward into Olivia as they keep moving.

"Hey, watch it!" She says loudly to them, before looking at me with wide eyes. "Sorry, are you alright?" Her tone is alarmed. 

Since the long sleeves hide the bruises, she doesn't know what caused my overreaction. I place my hand over where she had touched as if it will help. I can't tell her about the ache in my arm, can't speak at all now that we're so close. I stare into her blue gaze as I force myself to step back, but the space doesn't help my stuttering heart rate. This is just too much, she is just too much. Anytime I'm around her something awful happens. 

Not having a good explanation for my reaction, or all my weirdness in the past few minutes in general, I turn to head to class without a word. I don't look back as I'm pushed along through the crowd, but I can feel her watching me with every step.