"I, uhm, have to look at some books for history class." I said, and then walked away before anyone could say anything else.
I rushed to a random empty row of books, and tucked myself in the back corner. My breathing is coming out hard.
Get a grip would ya! I scolded myself.
What is wrong with these guys? Why would Oliver say something like that knowing I had just made out with his friend a few hours ago? They're all crazy.
In the middle of my stewing, arms wrapped around my middle, and I spun around. Oliver is right there, super close to me, too close. He kept his hands on my hips, and pulled me against him. I put my hands on his chest with every intention of pushing him away.
So why did I grip his shirt instead?
"You didn't answer my question," Oliver whispered.
"Your q-question
