Part 4. I don't know about this anymore.

***Writer's note: I feel like this isn't what I want to be known for writing. This is just for fun, just to carve out a story minus the beautiful way of crafting words. This is not good by any means, but I need to write a bad fiction novel about teenage years before I can ever move on to writing something decent.***

I often make excuses about my behavior to myself. I blame my mind, as if my mind and myself are two separate entities. Staggering through seemingly endless hallways I was silently screaming at my mind. For some reason, I was struck by his tinted-green blue eyes. I couldn't get that cocky but sensual smile out of my head. I try to wave away the thoughts, I can't do that to myself this time. I focus on trying to find my english class with a mister... Fuck, gotta pull out the schedule again, such a demeaning task. It doesn't cross my mind that I had been walking through this building with no real intent on ending up in class until that moment. That I had no idea what I was looking for, so there was no possible way I could have been looking. But my mind doesn't realize this. Mr. Riley, AP Dramatic Literature Room 1234. The numbers for rooms go that high? I feel stressed. Starting to rush because I know I only have about another ten seconds left until I'm officially late for my first class, I round the corner and see that the room I want to be in was to my left. I can't help stumbling in with my sudden change of pace, I slightly bump into a classmate who is sharpening their pencil. A boy. He turns around and smiles, a wide, obvious smile.

"Hi," he greeted brightly. I can feel myself snickering in my head at his over-confidence and outward charm, but I find myself politely responding aloud.
"Hey, I'm Lilah," I flash back one of my rare smiles. That was all it took for Graham to fall in love with me.