The lunch bell rang and as soon as it did, I was flying out of my seat to avoid Danny. All but throwing my saxophone into its case, I disassembled the instrument and moved to the door.
Opening it, I flew outside and ran straight to my locker where I deposited my music folder and retrieved my ripped lunch bag.
"Aubrey!" I looked behind me to see Danny standing there with his trumpet still in his hand. Eyes wide, I shook my head, a no, and took off toward the bathroom. Skidding to a stop in front of it, I ran inside and into an open stall. Breathing hard, I leaned against the door for some support.
"Aubrey, I know you're in there. You're being a child." I scowled and didn't respond to him.
"Danny, she's not going to leave the bathroom. She's so stubborn that she'll probably just spend her lunch hour in there. She even has her lunch. I could definitely think of cleaner places to each lunch, but she's the master of avoidance." I almost retorted. I nearly did, but I refrained because I would only be proving him right by retorting.
"Come on, Danny. She won't come out."
"Yeah, she's stuck in the closet. Maybe that's why she's continually rejecting you," Shawn joked. Boisterous laughter ensued, but eventually it dwindled due to the fact that they walked away. Sighing in relief, I stepped outside of the cubical. Moving to the entrance, I looked down the small hallway; no one was there.
Quietly, I made my way out only to be stopped by someone grabbing my ankle.
"Fucking hell!" I yelped, nearly falling over due to stopped momentum. Danny smiled briefly, but almost instantly his smile dropped from his face.
"What were you going to say, Aubrey?" he asked, looking up at me from his position on the floor. He patted the spot next to him and I hesitated before slowly lowering myself to the floor beside him.
"You screwed up your trumpet solo." He nodded and shrugged.
"It was your fault." I gave him a bewildered look and scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.
"How is it my fault you screwed up your solo?" I asked and he shrugged again.
"Because." I deadpanned.
"Because why?" He sighed and put a hand through his hair in frustration. My eyes followed the movement and I could see him hiding a smirk.
"Because I was trying to figure out what you were going to say. There are a lot of things you could have possibly said." Now it was my turn to hide a smirk.
"Why do you care? Are you le gasp interested?" I asked and I could see his face was turning redder than his t-shirt.
"No," he denied quickly, and I frowned. Would that honestly be such a bad thing?
We were sitting there in silence and it was starting to turn awkward. My hands were burning and I could feel sweat gathering in my hands. My lunch bag then decided to be a bitch and the paper completely ripped so that my lunch fell to the dirty floor. Sighing, I felt my shoulders slump in defeat and I shook my head before starting to laugh.
"Jesus fucking Christ. I am only in the first week of school and I'm already starting to fall apart," I muttered, not intending for Danny to hear me—he did.
"What do you mean, 'You're falling apart?' You look perfectly fine to me," he said and I felt a blush crawl up my neck. Slowly meeting his gaze, I scrutinized his expression. "What?" he asked and I ducked my head, shaking my head.
Silence ensued once more. Danny seemed to be contemplating something really hard.
"Why did you reject me?" he asked, and my head snapped up to see Danny looking down at his hands.
"When did I do that?" I asked incredulously, trying to go through my memories.
"Grade six." I almost laughed. Almost.
"Danny... we were twelve. No relationship at that age works. I rejected you because I felt like you were dared to ask me out." Danny's eyebrows were furrowed and he nodded slowly.
"But I wasn't dared." I was about to respond when whistles pierced the air and rambunctious teenaged males bombarded us.
"Aubranny forever!" Adrian shouted and Shawn smacked him. Adrian gave him a blank stare before turning to Danny and I again. "Aubranny forever."
"Aubrey? Danny has a question to ask you," Shawn said, staring at Danny pointedly.
"Nah, bro. That's your question to ask." Danny smirked up at Shawn. Shawn's lanky form visibly shook as he took a breath. Fixing his hipster glasses, he squared up and looked up as if trying to remember what he'd written down. He started playing with his ginger hair.
"Danny was wondering if you wanted to come to the party at my house on Saturday." Biting my lip, I furrowed my brow.
"I work on Saturday and Sunday," I responded, though not too quickly.
"What time?" Danny asked, his shoulder lightly brushing mine.
"7 am until about 3 pm." He grinned and then nudged me.
"Then you can go." Rolling my eyes, I looked back down at my lunch that thankfully was salvageable.
"I'll think about it," I said and the guys whooped.
"See you at the party," Danny whispered. "Babe 82," he whispered against the skin of my neck.
"Don't call me that," I snapped at him. Grabbing his arm, I wrenched it away from its' perch on my shoulders. I guess I was oblivious.
"Aw, but babe 82 is your nickname, Babe," he smirked, glancing down my shirt. Scowling, I drove my fist into his fleshy stomach—I really mean his defined abs—making him wince.
And to think all of this nicknaming started because of my red, Babe 82 t-shirt.