…I can't stop thinking about him.
It's mortifying. Unproductive. Unnatural. And quite frankly, it's really enraging. He has no right to occupy this much space inside my head. Yet after I go home with Max and lock myself in my bedroom with every intention of completing my history homework ahead of time, I end up staring at my wall for eleven minutes.
"Stop it," I hiss at myself, rubbing my face. "Get a grip."
My brain has always been disciplined. Good at compartmentalising feelings, separating necessary information from garbage, labeling the good and the terrible. Julius absolutely goes into the Terrible folder.
Yet tonight, my brain betrays me. Even when I try to distract myself by doing twice my usual set of sit-ups, hoping the physical exhaustion will quiet my mind, all it does is make my muscles ache…
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