"Artis."

It was just a name.
My name.
But it felt like a purr escaping Ethan's lips.
Your lips.

"Hey," I said. I didn't want to sound breathless. Or dreamy.

But damn.

My breath stuck in my throat
as you leaned on my locker,
hesitancy all over your eyes.

Everyone stared.

Ethan Brewer, one of the Golden Boys and Artis Hart, one of the average girls.

Eyes darting in shame, I glanced at you. You only smiled.

It doesn't matter, your smile seemed to say. It doesn't matter at all.

And just like that, I died, burying myself deep into those forest eyes.