I'm Pretty Sure You're Gonna Miss Me Ronin McKinsey

by M. J. Padgett

  Ronin looked miserable, in physical pain every time Sara touched him, which gave me the slightest hint of satisfaction. I slammed my locker door closed, catching his attention. I gave him my best I despise you glare, which seemed to hit my intended target right in the gut. He looked sad, which sent a giddy shiver through me.

  Sara was blabbering to Tanner’s girlfriend about something, and all the while, Ronin stared at me. When Sara realized she was no longer the center of his attention, she pulled on his arm and led him down the hall. I had a sneaking suspicion my first-period class would be miserable, sitting there for an hour while Sara shot satisfied glances in my direction. Looks that said she had what she wanted, and I was the throwaway.

  Ronin glanced over his shoulder as she dragged him along, helpless and sad. I chuckled, thinking of all the misery Sara would put him through, just like she had every boyfriend before him. “I’m pretty sure you’re gonna miss me, Ronin McKinsey,” I whispered.

  “What?” Rose asked, adjusting the strap on her bag.

  “Nothing. Let’s just get this day over with.”

  We parted ways at the end of the hall, where I took a deep breath before turning the corner toward my first-period class with Sara. I stopped short when I saw her stand on her toes and kiss Ronin’s cheek. That was bad enough, but before he could escape, she lifted herself again and kissed him smack on his lips.

  It infuriated me. Not even one day. Not one day before Sara made her move, and not one day before Ronin forgot who I was and started kissing my ex-best friend. I was seething. If I followed her in that classroom, there was a good chance I would gouge her eyeballs out with my pencil. I already had detention for the cake incident. I suspected a second visit to Principal Witt’s office, especially after physically assaulting another student, would land me a suspension at least. Maybe jail if I did gouge her eyeballs out. It felt worth it for a moment, then I came to my senses.

  Even so, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face her, so I did the only thing a teenage girl whose awful best friend stole her boyfriend right out from under her could do. I reached up and pulled the fire alarm. I immediately hated myself. What was I thinking? Someone could get hurt in the dash to get outside, or worse.

  Kids scrambled from classrooms, completely ignoring their teacher’s pleas for organization and order. Ronin walked toward the exit, Sara hot on his heels. I followed not far behind. I had no idea where I was going, but I moved with purpose. I practically ran over some freshmen who got in my way and mumbled a quick apology I’m not sure they heard.

  The crowd separated us, Ronin and Sara heading toward the practice field, while my group was heading toward the main field. I darted toward the other group, narrowly avoiding getting caught and sent back by a teacher. The area filled quickly as kids flopped on the bleachers and started talking, grateful for the delay.

  I saw no one I knew well enough to start a conversation with, so I stood there like a moron fiddling with the straps of my backpack. I slid it off and dropped it to the ground, planning to make a seat out of it when I caught Ronin staring at me. His eyes remained focused on me, even as Sara talked his ears off. She’d make him look away soon, and I realized I had about a second to make him jealous before that happened.

  I turned and grabbed the closest boy I could reach. “Kiss me!” I said, gripping his arm firmly.

  “What?” he asked. His hazel eyes were pretty, and they distracted me momentarily from the task at hand.

  “Kiss me, please,” I said, glancing at Ronin, who looked very confused.

  “Yeah, I’m not gonna kiss you, random person. Crazy, random, weird person I don’t know.” He tried to back away, but I had a firm grip on his shirt sleeve.

  “I’ll pay you,” I offered, so desperate at that point, I didn’t really care how I came across to the complete stranger I’d taken hostage.

  “I’m not a prostitute,” he said, causing me to release his shirt so I could slap my forehead with frustration. Why wouldn’t he just kiss me? Was I that awful?

  He started to back away and merge into the crowd when he looked at me again. He stopped, probably waiting to see what shenanigans I’d get myself into next. I sighed and sat on my bag, the moment lost. Ronin was talking to Tee, oblivious to me again. It was already hot outside, and I was regretting my move to pull the fire alarm as sweat slipped down my forehead. A shadow cast over me, and suddenly, I was lifted to a standing position.

  It was the guy I’d asked to kiss me. His hand slid behind my neck, his fingers twisting in my hair until he had it completely wrapped up in his hands, a tangled mess. He pulled me forward, pressing his lips on mine in an almost, but not quite painful way. His kiss was warm and soft, and I forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Oh yeah, making Ronin jealous.

  I slid my hands up his arms, settling them on his chest. He continued to kiss me, taking a chance that a teacher would see us, and we’d both get in a heap of trouble. He didn’t seem to care, and given how amazing the kiss was, I didn’t care much myself.

  He pulled back, leaving his hands in my hair. “He’s raging with jealousy,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Huh? Who? What?”

  “Ronin. You were trying to make him jealous, right?” I nodded, tangling my hair more in his hands.

  “Mission accomplished.” He wiggled his hands free and stepped away, turning to disappear back into the crowd. At the last second, he turned and closed the distance between us again. My hands draped around his neck as he lifted me slightly off the ground, holding me close enough so he could kiss me without getting a crick in his neck.

  The bell rang, signaling the all-clear for us to go back to class. He released me, his hazel eyes a light shade of green in the sunlight.

  “Now he’s just fuming,” he said, then left me to go to class, a puddle of Hazel Simmons standing in the practice field wondering what just happened. I touched my fingers to my lips, still a bit shocked and dazed while people flooded around me. Someone cleared her throat, and I glanced over my shoulder.

  “Maybe this is none of my business, but why were you just kissing Daniel Starnes?” Dizzy broke my trance and unwittingly gave me the name of the mystery make-out boy.

  “Daniel? Oh... I didn’t know his name,” I replied.

  “You just kissed a random person you don’t know?” she asked, urging me forward so I wouldn’t be late getting back to class. “What has Ronin done to you?” she muttered under her breath, then said, “Maybe be careful with Daniel? No one really knows much about him. He’s kind of a loner, and his sister was yanked out of school last year for who knows what reason.”

  “I’m not dating the guy, Diz. I just kissed him to make Ronin jealous.” I waved her off, dismissing any thought of Daniel Starnes from my mind.

  “That was a doozy of a revenge kiss, Hazel. From where I stood, it looked pretty intense.” She opened the door that another student let slam in our face because people had no manners. “He seems nice enough. I’m just saying be careful, that’s all. Take from it what you will.”

  Lucky for me, first period was already over, so I wouldn’t have to deal with Sara. However, second had only just begun when they let us back in, which meant I had six more hours of misery ahead of me, not counting lunch. I sighed and waved goodbye to Dizzy, glad I didn’t have any other classes with Sara.

  Turns out, I did have three classes with Daniel and had no idea. I sat in front. He sat in the back. I paid attention. He doodled all hour. I blushed when he walked by and smiled at me, which was evidently an invitation to sit closer to me. During our last class together, he sat directly behind me, making my stomach do weird things all hour.

  I finished my work early and turned in my paper, catching Daniel staring at me as I did. I hoped I didn’t make him think I was interested in him with the kiss. He was the first boy within reach when I was trying to make Ronin jealous. I hadn’t thought much of the consequences, but then I guess I rarely did, exhibited by the balloons and singing telegram that
sent my boyfriend packing in the first place.

  I sat in my chair, trying to ignore the way Daniel’s staring made me feel. Mostly because I didn’t know what it was, but also because he looked like he would devour me if given a chance. I counted the seconds until the class ended, the second hand of the clock moving way too slowly to be accurate.

  When the bell finally did ring, I jumped from my seat and ran from the room. I was down the hall and out the door in a second, trailing down the front steps and toward Dizzy’s car. I crossed the courtyard and hit the second set of steps, the last obstacle before ending in the lot.

  “Hey,” Daniel said.

  “Ahh!” I screamed, coming to a screeching halt. His voice in my ear surprised me. “How did you... H-how did you beat me to the parking lot?”

  “Were we in a race? I didn’t know, but I won. Cool.” His russet hair was combed back out of his face, but a few locks managed to wiggle free and flop in the front, bouncing whenever he took a step. “So, listen, I was thinking—”

  “Please don’t ask me out. That thing earlier, it was dumb. I’m sorry, I just broke up with—”

  “Ronin, yeah, yeah. I’m not asking you out. I want your help.” He tugged my shirt sleeve, urging me through the lot. “I have a proposition for you.”

  We passed Dizzy’s car, but neither she nor Rose was anywhere to be found. They probably weren’t trying to avoid a boy they kissed during a false fire alarm, hence, no reason to rush. We stopped at the back of the lot, nowhere else to go, but no one around to hear us talking.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “What is what?” he asked as he pulled his bag from his shoulder and dropped it to the ground.

  “Your proposition?” I reminded.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I was thinking, if you can help me get a date for prom, I can help you get revenge on Ronin. Or make him jealous. Whatever it is you’re trying to do,” he offered, pulling a helmet from his bag.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, just like that?” he asked, pausing momentarily to make sure he heard correctly.

  “Yeah. I’ll do anything to get him back. It’s a deal,” I said, realizing a moment too late I might have made a deal with the devil himself.

  “Huh. Well, I like a woman who knows what she wants. How do we do this, then?” he asked, preparing to slide the helmet over his head.

  “How come I don’t know anything about you? Where did you come from?” I asked aloud, though I’d intended to keep my inquiries to myself.

  “Wow. I’ve been in the same classes as you all year. Nice to know how invisible I am. You must have a high opinion of me,” Daniel said. He pulled the helmet on and clasped it under his chin. I wondered where he parked his bicycle since we’d already passed the bike racks long ago.

  “Well, maybe if you joined activities or something, I’d know you existed,” I said. Still, I felt a little bad that I had never noticed him.

  He smiled and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Peaches. My house, right now. You can explain our French homework to me, then we can plan our attack.”

  “Your house?” I asked. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “Relax, my sister will be at home. We’re not serial killers, Hazel.” He knew my name. Okay, that wasn’t weird. Of course, he did. Everyone did. But why did I like that he knew my name?

  “Fine, I’ll ask my friend to drop me off. What’s the address?”

  He slid the helmet back off and handed it to me. “No need. I can take you. Put this on.”

  I took the helmet, skeptical. “Uh, I don’t think we’ll both fit on your bicycle, Daniel. Also, what kind of bike helmet is this?” I stared at it trying to figure out why the wind visor was necessary.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “So, she does know my name. And who said anything about a bicycle. In what world does that look like a bicycle helmet to you?” He stopped beside a red and white motorcycle with the word Ducati painted on the side.

  I handed him back the helmet. No way, not for me, thanks. There was no way I was getting on a motorcycle with some guy I just met. But you did kiss him, Hazel, my brain reminded. He stood waiting for me to speak, but I had nothing. I made something up as fast as I could, so I wouldn’t look like an idiot, but that ship had probably already sailed.

  “Listen, I lost my boyfriend and my best friend in one day, then I got to watch my ex-best friend kiss all over my ex-boyfriend, so I’m a little stressed. I’ll just get a ride and meet you there.”

  “Who cares about Sara? Best friends are overrated anyway. Look at me. I don’t have any friends, and I’m awesome.”

  “You have friends. I saw you with them after the... the... the thing, you know,” I said as my cheeks blushed. He chuckled at my inability to say the word kiss, but let it slide without comment.

  “I have acquaintances. I do not have friends. There’s a difference, but I’m glad you agree I’m awesome,” he said.

  “What? I didn’t say that. When did I say you’re awesome?”

  “You didn’t disagree when I said it. You said I have friends but didn’t say I’m not awesome, ipso facto, you think I’m awesome.”

  “Ipso... what?” Daniel was confusing and wordy, not particularly concerned with what I thought of him, or how his words made him appear. He slid onto his motorcycle and turned the key in the ignition, the bike roaring to life beside me. It all made sense then.

  “Oh, I get it. So, you’re a bad boy type,” I said, proud to finally have him nailed down as a type. I could work with a type, but I could not work with ambiguity, which was what Daniel Starnes’ personality had been until that point.

  “I’m a say what now?” When he realized I wasn’t getting on the bike just yet, he turned it off so he could hear me.

  “A bad boy. You know, the motorcycle-riding, always getting into trouble, kissing random girls with a devil-may-care attitude, bad news, bad boy.”

  His eyebrows raised slowly, and his forehead creased. “Wow. You really put a lot of thought into that. You asked me to kiss you, by the way.”

  “Whatever, still a bad boy,” I replied, trying to forget I offered him money to kiss me.

  “I’m not that, whatever it is. Seriously, you really don’t know me at all.” He smirked, tapping his fingers on the handlebars of his bike.

  “Say what you will, but I’ve pegged you, Daniel. You, sir, are a bona fide bad boy. Accept it. Deal with it. It’s your high school tagline.”

  “You like cliché categories, don’t you?”

  “I was the head cheerleader dating the soccer captain. I’m a walking cliché category. That’s what Sara always said, anyway,” I said, dropping my head at the memory of my best friend ditching me after five good years together.

  “Yeah, she’s kinda right. She’s still all sorts of words I should not say in public, but kinda right. Categorize away, Hazel, but one day you’ll see not all of us fit in your little boxes. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I do what I want when I want. What box does that go in?”

  “Bad boy, Daniel. Textbook definition.”

  He smacked his forehead and ran his hands down his face. “Forget it. Put the helmet on before I rethink this whole partnership.”

  I slid the helmet over my head, my ponytail sliding down until it hung low at my neck. I glanced up at him as I adjusted the straps. “So, you really don’t care what anyone thinks of you?”

  “No, should I?” He steadied the bike, so I could climb on the back. It was the tiniest seat I’d ever seen, and my body slid forward until every inch of it was pressed against his. I tried to ignore that fact and responded.

  “Yes! What if people think you’re something you’re not? You have to stay on top of your reputation, or people will think the wrong things about you,” I informed him, trying and failing to put space between our bodies.

  “Oh. My. Gosh. I can’t believe it!” he said, throwing his head back.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t belie
ve I’ve been doing high school all wrong! How did I survive before you, Peaches?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Not funny,” I said. I slid down against him every time I tried to get back up on the tiny seat.

  “You know what’s not funny? How hard you are on yourself. How hard you try to fit this perfect image you think you’re supposed to be. Stop caring, Hazel. Just stop caring and hold on tight.”

  With that, he released the brake, and I nearly fell from the bike. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and hung on for dear life. Daniel was right. He wasn’t a bad boy at all. Daniel Starnes was a lunatic.

  Chapter Four

  “YOU ARE A TERRIBLE driver! You nearly killed me!” I shouted when Daniel pulled into the driveway of his home and parked his bike.

  “I’d say I did well for someone who had a girl screaming in his ear every three seconds. Honestly, Hazel, your vocal cords are amazing,” he said, taking the helmet I shoved in his face.

  He opened the front door to a spacious living room filled with the scent of food. What, I had no idea, but it smelled divine. I followed him into the kitchen, but never saw hide nor hair of this sister he claimed to have. He opened the oven, and the smell wafted over me.

  “What is that? It smells fantastic,” I said, breathing it in.

  “I have no idea. My sister gets bored and cooks.” He closed the oven and opened the fridge. “What do you like? Water? Juice?”

  “Water’s fine, thanks.”

  “Hungry?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for my answer before piling snacks into my arms.

  “How long are you keeping me here?” I asked, taking in the abnormally large pile of food he intended we eat during our planning session.

  “Well, if you refuse to ride the bike again, I guess you’re staying the night.”

  “Ha, ha, very funny,” I said.

  “He thinks so, but he’s really just an annoying idiot.” A beautiful blonde-haired girl appeared beside me, staring at Daniel with bright, expressive brown eyes. “The thing is, he’s the only one who thinks he’s funny,” she whispered in my ear, sort of. Unlike Daniel, she was loud and invaded my personal bubble, but in all, she seemed like a nice person from what I gleaned in the two seconds she’d been in my presence.