“Since you're named after the city, let’s see what the city is nicknamed. Pull out your phone and search it up,” she says.

I have no idea why I chose to go with what she wanted. Normally, the idea of a nickname pertaining to me, would make me want to throw you out the window. But with Harper, it would only be fair after labeling her with the title of Itsy-Bitsy.

Pulling out my phone, I search for what she wants. Pulling up the result, my face breaks up into a small smile. Lately, I can feel my face breaking into a lot more smiles than they ever really did. I know it’s because of her, but she doesn’t know that. 

I wonder if it’s possible to be infatuated with someone you just met. Doesn’t feel very smart, but as I’m watching her reaction to what I pull up on my phone, I can’t feel anything else. It’s honestly not very fair. If she felt the same way, her poker face may be a bit better than I thought. I might have to talk to Chloe about it later. 

“Absolutely not. We’ll make something up later. That’s a terrible nickname,” she says, snapping me back into reality.

“What’s wrong with it? I think it’s very fitting for me.” I say, breaking into a wider smile. Jeez, this girl has me changing my entire personality.

“How am I supposed to know that? I’m not going to call you that. Big D is a very inappropriate name. If I say that out loud, people are going to think things that are not true,”

“What are they thinking? Not that it’s any of their business anyway,”

“You know… Ugh. That we’re hitting it off in ways that… we’re not. Like you know… dancing in the sheets? Horizontal tango? Playing hide the cucumber? C’mon you can’t be that stupid.”

If my reputation wasn’t on the line here, I would’ve died laughing. Who just randomly knows all these euphemisms?

“Even if we were… dancing in the sheets as you say, I don’t think it’s their business. They can shove their opinion far up to where the sun doesn’t shine,”

“Their opinion matters because it isn’t true. I’m not sleeping with you,”

“Let me guess, you’d rather swim in a pool of apple cider vinegar?” I ask her, referring to our conversation yesterday.

“Look at you! I didn’t think that brain of yours could hold much information, Dally,”

“Dally?? That’s terrible. What am I? Some sort of toddler?”

“It’s from The Outsiders? Have you never read that?? It’s one of my top 10 books. It’s a masterpiece. What do they teach you rich white kids?”

Mental Note: read The Outsiders. Us rich white kids don’t read those books. I do know my Shakespeare though. To be or not to be and all that.

By the time the bell rings, I’ve realized that I’ve got nothing done. I actually have no idea what we’re supposed to have done. Not that I really care since Ms. H loves me. I’m sure Harper’s realized as well if her jumping up and running to the teacher is any indication. That poor girl will never learn to live a little. 

I watch as Ms. H explains to her the assignment. Ms. H never really cared too much about whether or not you paid too much attention in her class as long as you got your work done. She was a cool teacher and let me borrow the art room before and after school. I have one at home, but after teaching Mia, it’s a bit annoying. She has a passion for splatter paint and gets paint all over my sculptures. Even though I’ve asked her constantly to clean it up, she doesn;t really do a good job at it. She tries, but then her ADHD kicks in and suddenly she has to take the dogs for a walk. It’s hard to be mad at her because she listens, just not very well.

As I’m walking out the door, Ms. H calls me over to her desk.

“Dallas! So I see you’ve met Miss Caddell here. How long have you known her for? Y'all seem like really good friends,” she says ecstatically. 

“Two days. Barely. Is there something you need, Ms. H,” 

“Yes there is. There is a big competition between some of the private schools that I was hoping you two could collaborate on. I literally just saw Harper’s transcript and saw that she’s won many awards for her fashion creation skills. I hope you don’t find this weird Harper sweetie, but I found your Insta and I’ve seen some of the BEAUTIFUL things you’ve created,”

Looking down at Harper, it’s quite obvious that she’s into fashion. She was dressed in a long green skirt with a beige cropped shirt. She had gold jewelry everywhere and it kind of made her look like some kind of nature goddess. 

“And Dallas here is an amazing artist. He’s created some of the most intricate and beautiful paintings that I’ve ever seen. And his sculpting work is just wonderful. And his photography is just wonderful. I like to say he’s a Jack of all trades.”

“Oh, is that true?” Harper asks. I’ve got a feeling she doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do. We’ll probably be here for a bit longer as well. As the bell rings, I can see Harper get a bit antsy standing next to me. 

“Yes! I keep trying to get him to do competitions, but he always turns me down. Could you believe that? All that talent for nothing? Anyways, I know the both of you are wondering why I kept you after. Every quarter I have a big project. One of those projects starts now. For this first quarter project, I give you total free reign over what you do. That means whatever you do is up to you,”

“I would love for the two of you to collaborate on this project together. I believe that whatever you’d create would be absolutely stunning. You two already have a great dynamic if what I saw back there was any indication. The chemistry is there and the skill is there. So what do you say?”

In order to ease her poor little heart, I tell her we’ll think about it and walk out the room with Harper hot on my heels. If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t want to do the project at all. I definitely don’t know if I can do it with Harper wanting to stab me in the eye, even though I’d get to spend more time with her.

It’s hard being me. For the most part, I could get anyone I wanted. That’s just what happens when you’re hot. It’s not even being cocky. But why is the only person I’ve been attracted to in a damn long time is the person who’s silently fighting the urge to push me down the stairs? What did I do to deserve such pain? I’ll admit, I was kind of an ass to her first, but I’m an ass to everyone. She’s yelling and cursing me out while I’m trying not to find her cute. It’s masochism at its finest.