[COMPLETE]
Emerson Castell loves facts.
Enjoying the how and why of everything, she never fails to let her obsession seep into every aspect of her life, including her relationships - or lack thereof.
Leo Caruso is no stranger to a busy social life...
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I was not one to blush.
I understood all of the science behind blushing, which I decided to read about back in middle school when everyone seemed to blush over everything. I was positive for many years when I was younger that I was immune to the act of blushing. Sure, I got the clammy hands and racing heart when I was embarrassed or nervous, but blushing was simply not an Emerson thing.
Until now.
I pressed my fingers lightly to my face and could feel that fiery rush searing both of my cheeks. I retracted my hands before Leo noticed that I noticed I was embarrassed. The light smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth said otherwise, unfortunately.
"It's fine," he said, taking a small step forwards. "You shouldn't feel embarrassed over a good memory."
The issue was I wasn't embarrassed over my sharp memory; I considered it quite the asset. The problem was sometimes, my brain and my mouth couldn't keep up with each other no matter how hard I tried, and I had to go the extra mile of mentally condensing all I could say to seem well...more socially acceptable.
For example, I knew that in psychology he sat exactly two seats diagonally backwards from where I sat. He spent the whole class staring out the window at soccer field in the distance—only, he was pretending to not be listening to a word the teacher was saying since after class, he explained in detail what units we would be covering and the exact name of the textbook we would be using to a real daydreamer sitting in the back of the class. In calculus, he took two ten-minute naps, yet answered the question about evaluating definite integrals correctly after the teacher called on him at random. It wasn't stalking; it was simply how my brain worked.
Okay, and a tiny bit of long-distance stalking.
"Right," I answered, trying to crack a confident smile.
He seemed to have wanted to tell me something from the way his mouth opened but quickly closed. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and looked off at the sky before back at me.
"Did you want to say something?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, no. I—"
Mason cut Leo off yelling at the top of his lungs from behind me.
"EMERSON!" The urgency in his tone made whatever he needed me for sound like an actual emergency.
"I guess I have to go," I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Not that I want to.
"See you tomorrow, Emerson?" he said, and it was my turn to nod. We both turned away with smiles etched on our faces.
I jogged towards Mason waiting for me, impatiently tapping his foot. "What is it?" I asked, looking him up and down. He looked perfectly fine, not even a single scratch.
"Mom said to call you," he said, spinning around me on his scooter. "It's time for dinner."
"That's it?" I snapped, wanting to smack my forehead. "You made it sound like you were dying."
