Unsteady

"Friends keep secrets, Alabama; keep mine." His eyes seemed to dance as I looked at him, my expression probably full of wonder and shock that someone so strong for me could be so weak when it comes to himself.
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When Annabeth Travis moves from small town Bluebell, Alabama to New York City, she's in for an adventure. Seventeen years old and on her own, Simon Rodgers takes pity on her. But what happens when they let down all the walls of mystery and shadowy fear?

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3. Three

Butterflies had fluttered in my stomach as I'd gotten ready the next day. I remember not being sure if it were a date, not knowing what lied ahead in the plans for the night. I'd worn leggings under an oversized sweater. I'd thrown on a beanie, letting my chocolate curls fall as they do, taken a deep breath, and walked to the coffee shop at 6:05.

I remember how nervous he'd seemed. At the time, I didn't know him well enough to know his nervous tendencies, but he had been running his fingers through his hair so much that I'd almost reached out and grabbed his hand, it annoyed me so much. But I'll say it again, I didn't know him very well at the time.

"So, have you left Alabama before your big city move?" He'd asked, his grey eyes laughing, a smile on his lips as he handed me the coffee.

"Of course, how else would I know that black coffee is only for mornings?" I'd rolled my eyes and he'd blushed. I remember seeing girls smirk as they walked by him. I remember him not noticing.

I had wondered why they'd looked at us like that the whole time we were there. I also remember the tiny laugh he gave when he left, a nod of the head, and a promise to text later. 

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The girls had walked up to me after Alexander left. They were giggling and seemed nice. I'd thought it was odd they'd come up to me though. They'd been looking at Alexander, right?

"You're new. How'd you get Simon to talk to you?" The blonde had asked. I'd raised my eyebrows, slightly confused.

"What do you mean? He kinda just did. If anything, I'd tried not to be noticed." I chuckled.

"Well then, lucky you. He doesn't exactly talk to many girls anymore. It's a shame too; he was the hottie of the '12 graduating class. Twenty one, and I'd say he's still a cutie." The redhead laughed, and I'd politely excused myself.

Lucky me, I guess.

 

 

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