The Perfectly Awkward Side

Fabian has never had a girlfriend. Actually, he's been more on the awkward side of, erm, the manliness scale. He actually quite likes it there. His books, his essay papers, the cute girl that always comes to the library with her friends...

Baylee is considered the hottest item around. She's the perfect image of a hot American teenager. Blonde, dumb, and she has the body. Sadly for all the other boys in school, she's taken by the school's biggest jerk: Andy Wilson. However, maybe their relationship isn't as society thinks it to be. Maybe the things that happen behind the scenes leave Baylee hurt, and questioning.

Find out more if you read!

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6. Chapter 6: Baylee

I frowned and watched Hanna sift through my makeup. "Don't use it all." I whined.

Hanna turned to face me, and gave an annoyed look. I shrugged and examined my manicure, making a slight whimpering noise every few moments in order to ensure they remembered my presence.

I couldn't believe there was something going on between Hanna and Fabian. I honestly had thought she was better than that, and just last week hadn't she told me she was head over heels for Jackson Branner? I made a little grunt noise, drawing attention back to me. She was so fickle.

"Here," Hanna said, and I watched her bite her lip, her thinking pose as she applied a tan foundation to Fabian's face. "Fabs, have you ever tried Acne-Free?" I shifted on my bed. She had a nickname for him? I pushed away the thought. Why did I care anyway?

Fabian gave her a hurt look and she laughed. "I'm teasing!" He laughed too, and I shot up from the bed.

"Let me do it, Hanna. I took makeup classes." I grabbed the foundation from her, not fully understanding what I was doing myself.

I continued to apply the foundation, though I didn't understand what Hanna was teasing him about. For all the nerds I'd seen, he had the best complexion. His eyes were a bright green, they reminded me of the emerald earrings I had. His hair was a milk chocolate brown, and it looked extremely soft. It laid smoothly across his forehead.

"Baylee?" Fabian asked, his brows creased in what I assumed was confusion.

I was knocked out of my daze. "What?" I snapped.

Fabian jumped slightly at my sudden harshness. He looked at his feet. "You'd stopped applying the makeup. I was wondering if there was something wrong.?"

His accent is so cute! I hushed my inner thoughts. What was happening to me? "Nothing." I responded, continuing to coat his face with the tanning foundation. I needed to watch myself. I couldn't get distracted by him. He wasn't even all that distracting anyways.

Hanna sat on the bed reading a magazine, she made no noise. How could she deal with not being constantly looked at? I shook my head at her innocence.

"Looks good." I commented when I'd finished. Fabian's face lit up at my remark. "The color, I meant. Not your face." I corrected. His expression sunk again and I smiled at my achievement.

Hanna, however, did not find it as amusing. "I'm going to go grab the contacts. Be back in ten." She shot me a look before exiting my room.

Fabian's hands went to his glasses. "Must we?" He whispered.

I rolled my eyes. "Give them here." I held out my hand and he looked at it for a moment before placing the glasses tenderly in my palm. Once I had them in my grip, I threw them to the ground. Fabian's eyes shone with fear for what I was going to do next, but he did not move from his chair. I lifted my foot and he turned away. My foot started coming down slowly, and he looked for a moment through his fingers.

"God, Fabian." I put down my foot on the carpet next to his glasses. I retrieved them from the floor and handed them back to him. "Why didn't you do anything?"

He just slid them back on, saying nothing. Though I did notice his hand had gravitated to his side, and he was shaking very slightly. I let it go, deciding not to confront him about it.

I cleared my throat. "Maybe, erm, we could do something about your wardrobe?"

He nodded, still not speaking, and visibly shaking. Without another word I turned and ran upstairs into our attic. I crawled to the back and found the pile of boxes. It was at the bottom, I knew that much.

I dug through the boxes for a while, until I saw my mom's handwriting on the side of one cardboard box. It had gotten awfully flimsy in its time, and it was covered in dust when I pulled it out.

"Logan's Clothes." I read the label out loud, attempting to get used to the idea of what I was about to do.

I pried the tape that was holding the box together off and opened the top. Inside, there were jeans, t-shirts, denim jackets. My lip began to tremble. I looked away from the box in an attempt to fight the tears threatening to fall. It didn't help. The hot tears slid from my weak eyes anyway, making my mascara run, I'm sure. I sobbed into my hands, my head folding onto my knees. I couldn't even imagine what I must've looked like.

"Baylee!" A male voice called to me. They seemed to be far away, but a moment later I felt arms around my cocooned body. "Sshh," the voice soothed. "you're alright."

I shook my head and my breathing became constrained. They came in long intervals, short, sharp breaths.

The owner of the voice coaxed me out of my hiding. I felt someone drawing small, soothing circles on my back and I blinked away the rest of my tears. I wiped my eyes and looked at my mysterious comforter.

Fabian sat on the floor of the attic behind me, one of his arms wrapped around my back, the other laying loosely at his side. Worry was etched in his eyes, making his green eyes even more attractive then they had seemed.

"Fabian.." I whimpered, curling up to him, the only person that could make me feel better now. I hid my face in his t-shirt and I felt him twirl my hair. He whispered to me, calm things, making my heart beat calm down.

When I had calmed fully, I pulled away from him and wiped my eyes. "Thank you." I whispered. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Please don't ask." I pleaded. "Please." He nodded and crawled over to where I had left the box.

"What's this?" He asked, rummaging through the clothes.

I nearly jumped on the box, but instead I simply removed his hand. "Careful." I contained my emotions. I would not lash out on him, he didn't understand.

He gave me a questioning look, but obeyed and sat on his hands. I pulled out a pair of dark jeans that I hoped would fit Fabian, and grabbed a button-down plaid shirt. I also found a white t-shirt.

I threw them at him, losing my sudden need to be careful. "Put these on." He frowned at them, turning them over as if confused on how to wear them. I rolled my eyes. "The t-shirt goes on under the button down." He smiled at me, signaling he understood. "And I should hope you know how to wear the jeans."

He laughed and I joined with him. "I'll be right back." He climbed down the ladder from my attic onto the second floor. I followed shortly after.

"I wondered where you two had gone." Hanna smiled when our faces were visible to her. "What were you two doing?"

Fabian held up the clothes. "Wardrobe." I nodded and laughed.

"The bathroom is just down that hallway, Fabs." I pointed to the hallway on my left. "First door on the right." Hanna gaped at me. "What?" I asked.

"Did you just call him Fabs?" She smirked.

I turned away from her. "No of course not..."

She moved to look at me. "Baylee, you look like you've been crying." I bit my lip. "I knew I'd seen those clothes before. Why are you letting him wear Logan's clothes? Does he even know?"

"I didn't have any other boy clothes. And Logan had a pretty good sense of style." I fiddled with my fingers, my nervous habit.

"Does he know?" Hanna repeated.

I paused. "No." I whispered finally. "Don't tell him, Han. He doesn't need to know."

When Fabian reemerged, Hanna and I hushed our discussion.

"Well?" He asked. I smiled. "When do you want these back?" He looked to me, and I could see his brilliant green eyes through his glasses. They went well with his shirt.

"Never." I smiled. He looked stunned. "You look good in them."

Hanna leaned closer to me. "Logan would've liked him." She whispered.

"I know." I whispered back. I know.

 

 

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