Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

motorcycle. Or wrapped tightly in his arms, hidden in a closet,
a world within a world.
I wished he was close. I wished he was watching me.
Always watching me. I tucked my hair behind my ear, turning
my head toward the direction where I would imagine he was,
and reveled in the feeling of his eyes being on me.
“Are you okay?” Rika asked.
The music cut off, and I heard a teacher scolding someone
—probably Will—and I nodded. “Yeah.” I dropped my plastic
fork and wiped my fingers on a napkin. “When you’re done,
would you mind pointing me to the library? I’m going to hang
out and listen to some of the readings until class. I’ll have the
librarian’s assistant help me to the next class.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m done now. Let’s go.”
We picked up our bags, tossed out our lunches, and headed
for the doors. But as we went, I smiled to myself, the feeling
of him still in my head and his eyes watching me, following
me and never leaving me as I exited the cafeteria.
“How about right here?” Rika asked me. “It’s empty and
quiet.”
I nodded, reaching the third floor of the library and feeling
for the chairs nearby. I found a cushy couch instead and
dropped my bag, taking a seat and digging out my phone and
earbuds.
“I need to run to the office and get some fliers printed for
the Math Club,” she explained. “I can swing by as soon as I’m
done and get you for English.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” I told her, plugging in my earbuds and
relaxing into the corner of the couch. “I’ll find someone. Or…
maybe I’ll go wild and find class myself.”
“Don’t do that,” she scolded.