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make sure I get that jacket back.” His faces me again, his expression now annoyed, back to the glare I’m most used to. I flinch, and just when we were making progress too!
    “I’m not gonna run off with it,” I scowl back. “Besides, you know where I’ll be eighth period.” He nods, and I’m kicking myself. So stupid! I have to think quickly, so that we keep on talking, so that he doesn’t walk away…. think!
    “So what’s that new movie everyone is talking about? The one that came out the other week?” God, what a stupid thing to say!
    “ Joy Ride ?” He asks, no doubt curious over my random question, his face still full of disdain.
    “Yeah!” I exclaim. “I haven’t seen it yet,” I admit, wondering where the hell I’m going with this. “Have you?”
    “No,” his expression lightens. “But, then again, I’m only into good movies.”
    “It’s supposed to be good,” I counter, relaxing, because as each moment passes his face loosens more and more. “Besides,” I sigh. “What constitutes as a good movie?”
    “Star Wars.” He’s so matter of fact and cocky. I want to hate him, but I laugh instead.
    “How did I know you were going to say that?” I place my hands on my hips; his long sleeves are too large for me and hang over.
    “What’s wrong with Star Wars?” He smiles, causing me to do the same.
    “Nothing,” I shrug. “But I prefer Harrison Ford in the form of Indiana Jones .”
    “Of course you do,” he laughs, and I don’t know where to look first - his mouth and the way it stretches and moves, or his eyes and the way they ignite. “And how did you know I’d be into Star Wars?” His smooth voice is laced with amusement, and I can’t help myself.
    “Well, you’re clearly the sciencey type,” I wave my hands towards him, and he laughs again. It’s like music to my ears.
    “Right, and what constitutes the sciencey type?” His grin is wide and his hips are swaying slightly. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we are almost flirting.
    “You, being all into potions and chemicals, and weird sciencey stuff, like probably old body parts and-”
    “And producing a mysterious spark,” he interrupts, continuing my sentence, his voice raspy and charmed. I smile and we both erupt with laughter. He clearly got my joke.
    “I don’t create Frankenstein, contrary to popular belief,” he raises his eyebrow, and I take note on how it’s the first time he does this without some menacing context. “Sorry to disappoint.”
    “Damn,” I bit my lip, trying to contain my wide grin. “So what was the last movie you saw then?”
    “Probably Planet Of The Apes , and okay, what’s with that face?” The way he’s still smiling does crazy things to me.
    “Tim Burton?” I cringe.
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    “All of his movies look exactly the same!”
    “He has a distinct look,” he argues. “Kind of like the one you’re giving me right now.”
    I can’t help but laugh again, feeling like the idiot girl who’s standing in front of the guy she obviously has a crush on, who’s way out of her league.
    “Well, I refuse to see it,” I sigh, trying to grasp my emotions. “I’m sure he’s done nothing but ruin a great novel and good movie from the 60’s.”
    “Easy there,” he throws his hands up. “I didn’t say the movie was good. I just said it was the last one I saw.”
    “Fair enough,” I roll my eyes.
    “So what about you?”
    “ Princess Diaries ,” I smile, and now it’s his turn to make a face. “I’m a sucker for Meg Cabot books,” I shrug.
    “Never heard of her.”
    “It’s sort of a chick thing.”
    “So you’re into chick books and historical narratives?”
    “I’m kind of into all books,” I clarify. “I’ll read anything.”
    He starts to say something, but closes his mouth once everyone begins walking towards the school.
    I’m disappointed and crushed.
    This was going so well!
    He’s sort of really fun to talk to.
    He motions