Project US
Ottilie Weber
Copyright © August 2015 by Ottilie Weber
Cover Art by Shutterstock
Editor Sharon Stevenson
ISBN 13 – 978-1514810576
ISBN 10 - 1514810573
All rights reserved. No part of Project US may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means such as photocopying, recording, informational storage, electronic or mechanical, and lastly as a retrieval system, without written consent of Ottilie Weber.
This story is a work of fiction. Situations, characters, and names of characters are all part of the writer's mind. If there are any similarities then it is completely unintentional.
For my Aunt Kelly, Uncle Eric,
Avery, and Grayson.
1
Rachel
His fingers grazed hers, bringing her attention back up to those brown eyes that had become so familiar to her. The air seemed to be stuck in her throat as she was trying to find the words to say to him. This was the guy she was finding herself in love with. She still didn’t believe that this was actually happening to her. Butterflies seemed to flutter every time he even glanced in her direction. His mere touch seemed to turn her body aflame, leaving her skin to tingle in the aftermath of his fingers. These feelings inside of her were new, making her nervous yet happy.
"Look," he paused; locking eyes with her and his eyes were filled with such tense emotions. "I have never felt this way about a girl, and to be honest I didn't want to ever feel this way about anyone."
She felt his fingers interlacing with hers as he took a step closer, bringing the two to a point where they were almost touching.
"But, I love you," he whispered as his other hand brushed some of her dark hair out of her face, such a small gesture but one that made her wonder if her heart would leap out of her chest.
Little by little, he slowly drew close to her face. Her eyes drifted closed as she could feel his lips about to grace hers for the very first time, stealing her breath away. Her heart started to speed up as his lips started to timidly…
The bus hit a bump, causing my book to jump out of my hands and my friend Bridget next to me to jolt back awake. Glaring, I bent over to pick up my book from the floor. I didn't grow up with long road trips and this one with school to Virginia was seriously killing me. Reading in a car gave me a headache, but I was so beyond bored I decided to risk it. My inner mind was as jittery as the characters from being stuck on this bus for so long.
"I swear bus drivers purposely choose to drive over the big bumps and pot holes at obnoxious speeds to be annoying," Bridget mumbled, shifting in her seat in an attempt to fall back to sleep.
"I know the feeling," I answered, not really paying attention to what my friend for years was saying. Narrowing my eyes, I scanned the pages striving to find where I was in the book as I flipped through it. I really needed to figure out where I left off! Just because it was an unrealistic moment in the paperback didn't mean I shouldn't enjoy the book. It wasn’t the author’s fault that the guys in my grade sucked.
"Oh God, I know that scowl," Bridget spoke in an even tone as I started tossing through again looking for key words. "Romantic scene?"
"Yup," I replied, keeping my voice short, making the 'p' pop.
"You really don't have to be so cynical about love," Bridget said, and I raised an eyebrow at my friend.
Bridget was wearing a floor length, peasant style, black skirt, in addition to wearing one of her corsets; a white one with black lace designs on the front with cap short sleeves. Bridget had brown ringlets. Her hair had a little volume, not that I could relate with my hair that had a slight wave to it, but mine was thin. Bridget was wearing her spider choker and matching dangling earrings. She had thick black eyeliner on almost in Egyptian style.
"But, but it's so much fun picking on the lovey dovey airheads in books," I faked a whine, batting my eyelashes at my friend.
"I really can't wait until you fall in love and I can poke you for all the details all the while laughing at you because I was right," Bridget verbally jabbed before starting to repeatedly dive her finger into my shoulder.
"When that day happens, I'll allow you to drop a piano on my head," I muttered.
I started to finger-stab her back, giving up for a second on searching for where I was in my book to get her back. We were fifteen years old in our sophomore year of high school, but we still had our childish moments. She and I still meander into the Disney store despite the stares that we might receive. We met in sixth grade, but really bonded in eighth grade homeroom where we became closer each day over the dumbest things.
"A piano would kill you, when would I be able to gloat with you dead?" she laughed.
I smiled, rolling my eyes. "Love you too."
Bridget just grinned.
We were getting a little edgy, the class trip started very early in the morning before the sun had even started to peek into the sky and we were still not done driving from central New Jersey to Virginia. Morning wasn't any of our friends apparently…
"Man, why couldn't you and I be sharing a room?" I questioned, feeling my shoulders slump.
"I know, I really wonder who we're rooming with."
Leave it to school to turn a fun trip, a few days away from classes into a project. The project was vague - 'something to teach us about working together so we can further understand the responsibility of adulthood'. Their words, not mine. My wording would be 'waste of time along with frustration of working with
