I head footsteps that seemed to be coming towards us quickly because they got louder with each second. It had to be a guy because it was the squeak of sneakers, and not the click-clack of heels or the silent patter of flats. Unless it was Rachel of course, she was the only girl I knew to wear sneakers outside of gym that is. Both Nate and I pulled away from our embrace, alert, waiting for whoever was coming to show themself. As soon as I saw the first glimpse of that messy brown hair, my body tensed. Clay. I hastily tried to rub my eyes, wipe away any tear marks that I could. Last thing I needed now was to be ridiculed by the jerk for being a crybaby.

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