This Hurt (This Boy Book 2)

by Jenna Scott

  It doesn’t escape me, either, how momentous this is. I’ll be the first person in my family to go to a real university, if my mom is to be believed. I have to make it happen. And with the scholarship Emmett’s mom is helping me with, I just might.

  If I get it.

  If. Always if.

  That word forces me to confront the fact that I’m looking at colleges I may not have the money to attend. All this is doing is psyching me out, putting the proverbial cart in front of the horse. It’s pointless to stress about this until I know for sure that I even have the option to choose something other than City College or SDCC. And yeah, community college is a perfectly acceptable way to spend the next few years…I can always transfer to a state school after getting through all my prerequisites. But I’m so ready to leave, be out on my own, start to live life on my own terms. If I go to a local two-year school, I’ll be stuck with my mom and all the baggage that entails for another few years. Except I can’t actually imagine doing that—it’s just not tenable.

  No matter what it takes, or who I might have to leave behind, I have to get myself out of here.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Camilla

  Isabel ends up tutoring me in math on Tuesday, giving me some last-minute tips and tricks that make the thought of answering the final essay questions on my algebra test almost palatable. Because of course the Academy’s math department sticks you with two small theoretical essays at the end of every unit test. Demons.

  After we’re done and she drops me off at the Becks’, I feel…calmer. More prepared. Everything she explained makes sense, and I go to bed reciting formulas in my head. The calm doesn’t last, though, and I wake up with my stomach in knots.

  On our way to school, Hunter takes my shaking hand and gives it a squeeze when the car stops at a red light. “You’re gonna do great.”

  “I hope so,” I whisper, looking down at my jittery leg.

  “Your problem, Milla,” he says gently, putting his hand back on the wheel to take the left turn, “is that you overthink everything.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “It’s math! Overthinking is only natural.”

  “No, thinking is natural. But second-guessing your every sum isn’t. And you do that.” He sneaks a look at me. “I should know. I’ve seen you studying.”

  “Pff. You’re always supposed to re-check your calculations.” I can’t believe Hunter, class-cutter extraordinaire, is giving me advice on math.

  “Once, maybe. You do it, what…four times?”

  “I just like to be extra sure,” I tell him. “So that when the test is in front of me, I can trust myself to go on autopilot.”

  We pull into the school parking lot, and he takes his usual spot in the back corner. Then he kills the engine and turns to me. “Seriously, Milla.” He leans over to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Try to relax. Those nerves are your worst enemy.”

  A snort escapes me. “Like you’ve ever been nervous before a test.”

  “Maybe not, but I have been nervous before swimming competitions, and tests are like, your version of that.” He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, smiling. “My first year at CIF State, I thought my stomach was going to melt. I couldn’t sit still.” His hand moves to cup my face. “Then I realized that all I could do was do my best, just like I’d trained for—and if I lost, it’d be because someone else’s best was just better.”

  “But you didn’t lose,” I whisper, looking down. “And there’s no second place with math.”

  “Listen. You’ve got this. Just take deep breaths, try to stay calm, and do your best.” He brings his lips to mine again, lingering this time, shifting to capture my upper lip softly with his teeth. “This is your pre-emptive good-luck kiss, by the way.”

  My blush goes all the way up to my ears, and the thoughts in my mind are no longer about polynomials and equations. They’re about him, and the feel of his lips against mine, and how I need to kiss him again and get lost for a minute. Which I do.

  “Thanks,” I say, finally pulling away. “I’ll try not to psych myself out so much.”

  We leave the car, and walk in together side by side. No hand-touching in public—which I’m fine with. I really am. It’s what I wanted. What I want.

  “Are we doing lunch today, or…?” Hunter asks.

  I shake my head. “Isabel and Emmett are gonna go over some last-minute math stuff with me today. The test is right after.”

  Hunter nods. “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Yeah.” I smile. “It’s a date.”

  At my locker, I change out my books for morning classes. “See you in Debate,” Hunter says, shoulder leaning against the locker next to mine.

  I give him a nod, and when I turn to face him, he uncrosses his arms from his chest. His blue eyes linger on my face, and I can tell he wants to kiss me. But he just runs his index finger down the slope of my nose, and gently taps the tip. “Later.”

  My cheeks grow hot, and the butterflies start their insane flurrying in my stomach. Still, the warm fuzzies don’t last, and as soon as we head our separate ways, my mind goes back to the algebra panic. That’s where it stays the rest of the day.

  Isabel, Emmett, and I grab pre-made sandwiches from the cafeteria and take them to the library, eating them up in the second floor study nook as Isabel works some of her mystical math mojo on me.

  When I sit down for the test after, my adrenaline is pumping, my breath too shallow. Then I remember Hunter’s words: Breathe deeply. Stay calm. Do your best.

  I put pencil to paper and turn the test over. With a deep breath, I read through the first question. Praise the lord, I know this one. My hands aren’t trembling anymore, my thoughts no longer uncertain. I breeze through the whole thing with fifteen minutes to spare, feeling confident. As I turn it in, I make a mental note to get Isabel a little something as an official thank you. Because seriously, I still can’t believe I managed the essay part. Usually they’re an exercise in futility, but today, I could actually explain going through all the steps and then justify the solution.

  Maybe I should take her out for a milkshake at the diner. Or a whole dinner. And maybe get her a makeup palette in all those candy colors she likes to experiment with.

  Hunter’s waiting for me outside math, and my spirits are so high I almost break the no-PDA rule and kiss him right there. No one would be able to see it, since the hallway’s still empty and there’s no one around to snitch. But that would be a slippery slope, so instead I hug him, and he hugs me back, almost too tight. It feels good.

  “This a happy hug?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I beam up at him and take a step back. “Pretty sure I aced it.”

  “Good. Then get your things out of your locker,” he tells me as we walk downstairs so I can get my Debate text out. “You’re going to be out sick tomorrow.”

  I frown up at him. “I am?”

  “Yes. You’re coming down with a virus that can only be cured by the surprise I have planned for you.” He says this with all the seriousness of an actual doctor.

  I snort. “If that surprise consists of you showing up at my bedroom door with a bow wrapped around your dick, I’ve told you before I’m not skipping class to—”

  He laughs out loud, shaking his head. “Are you trying to give me ideas, Milla? ‘Cause I can definitely make that happen.”

  I blush hard at the image running through my head right now, probably getting redder than the ribbon I’m imagining. Clearing my throat, I say, “Not on a school day, you aren’t.”

  After I open my locker, Hunter’s arms wrap around me from behind, and he whispers in my ear, “Trust me.” His warm breath gives me a shiver, and he kisses the back of my neck. “I promise it will be magical. Please, Milla. With a cherry on top.”

  Another comment on how it seems like he’s still talking about sex is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite down on it. The truth is, I’m not big on playing hooky; cutting school isn’t something you do when you’re on a me
rit-based scholarship and can’t afford tutoring for the things you miss. But I think I just aced this test, and Hunter’s unbelievably cute when he begs. Plus, the way he’s hugging me right now makes it extra hard to say no.

  “You win. I’m intrigued.” I grin, knowing I’m not going to be able to resist, zipping up my bag around a hefty pile of textbooks and notebooks.

  “Yes!” Hunter crows. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “Can’t you at least give me a clue?” I ask as we head toward Debate.

  “You’ll want to go to bed early tonight,” he answers, non-committal. “We need to be out the door at six in the morning.”

  “You. Want to be out the door. At sunrise.” I arch my brows. “That’s like, the number one way to overhype anything you do.”

  He takes my hand to his heart. “You wound me, Milla. I’ll have you know, I used to be an early riser. Got up every day at five-thirty to use the Academy’s Olympic-size pool by myself.”

  “Why’d you stop doing that?” The question is out before I can stop it. “I mean, you obviously enjoy swimming. You giving that up would be like me giving up books.”

  He hesitates a second before answering, “I still swim. Just not for this school, and not competitively.”

  Though I have the urge to press for more answers, I hold back. Not because I think he won’t tell me, but because I’m afraid he will. We’re already treading a fine line with this casual business, and I don’t want to cross it by knowing more of his secrets.

  Things are fine the way they are right now. We hang out, we go on dates, we make out, and we don’t talk about anything deep. Just surface-level stuff.

  Still, when we sit in adjacent chairs for Debate, I can’t help studying him. He’s leaning back in his chair, gaze fixed on the ceiling as if it’s the Sistine Chapel he’s looking at and not just white tiles.

  Without even meaning to, I reach across our desks and cover his hand with mine where it rests. Hunter sits up straighter when my fingers lace between his and he turns to me with a small smile.

  For the rest of class, neither of us speaks, and neither of us lets go.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Camilla

  When I was little, I used to look forward to waking up on Christmas day just like any other kid. The eager excitement I’d feel the night before would have me so wired that sleep was practically impossible. Even still, the second the sun was up I’d have all the energy in the world to pop out of bed, wake up my mother, and run to the tree, where—no matter how tough the year had been or how bad my mom’s drinking was—there would always be one big, perfectly wrapped present waiting for me.

  Even if my mom passed out on the couch intoxicated for the rest of the day, I could always count on that one magical morning each year, a morning where her eyes would get soft watching me unwrap my gift and I’d be thrilled to have something shiny and new instead of a hand-me-down. Years later, she told me that most of those presents had come from charities that donated holiday gifts to needy families, but it didn’t take the magic away. It was the one instance where my mom didn’t proudly insist that she couldn’t accept charity. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.

  Trying to sleep the night before Hunter’s big surprise has me feeling those familiar sparks of anticipation all over again. Despite crawling into bed before nine, I don’t drift off until after midnight, and I’m already half awake when my alarm goes off.

  I tiptoe to the bathroom, trying not to wake up my mom since the sun isn’t even up yet. She’s curled up in the recliner with an empty bottle on the side table, still covered with the throw blanket I’d draped over her before I went to bed last night. I didn’t tell her that I’d be off on some adventure today, but we usually don’t see each other regularly enough for her to worry about me. Not that she would anyway.

  As I shower, I wonder for the millionth time where Hunter might be taking me. I’m guessing it involves a long drive, but that doesn’t narrow down the possibilities. My phone buzzes with a text while I’m getting dressed, and it intrigues me even more.

  Hunter’s message reads, Make sure you wear comfortable shoes.

  Are we hiking? I text back. Should I bring a water bottle or snacks?

  Don’t worry, I’ll cover all that, he responds, refusing to give me any solid clues. See you at my car in a few.

  Dang. He’s really not going to tell me anything.

  Once we’re all buckled up, we take Hunter’s BMW up toward LA. En route, we stop at a cute café outside of La Jolla for takeout lattes and egg sandwiches.

  Hunter dodges all my questions on the way, and eventually, I give up and sit back to listen to the radio and enjoy the drive.

  Suddenly I have to blink, my neck craning to take a longer look, and then I’m still blinking, because, “Wait—we’re going to Disneyland?”

  What comes out of me can’t be described as anything but a breathless squeal.

  “I’ve always wanted to go here!”

  “You’ve never been?” Hunter asks, surprised.

  I shake my head. “Nope, too expensive. This’ll be my first time ever.”

  “So I’m the first person to take you to the happiest place on Earth.” He gets a funny expression, and I can tell exactly what he’s thinking—he’s surprisingly easy to read when it’s just the two of us. Whatever’s about to leave his lips will be extremely dirty and wholly embarrassing.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Hunter, that’s two of my cherries you’ve popped.”

  His right hand comes off the steering wheel, and his fingers wrap around my own. “And one of the many times I’ve taken you to a magical place.”

  “Har har,” I say dryly, but I’m so excited I can’t keep the smile off my face. Until I realize… “Wait—who’s taking care of Harry this afternoon?”

  “I took care of it,” Hunter says. “Tom owed me a favor, and Harry thinks the guy is a soccer god. They’re gonna spend the afternoon chilling. Harry’s floored.”

  Hunter’s right—Harry’s going to be in heaven. With my anxiety assuaged, I whip out my phone and start excitedly tapping out a text to Isabel.

  GIRL. Hunter’s taking me to Disneyland RIGHT NOW.

  Isabel’s in her first period class, but she still texts me back right away. WHAT?! I…have so many thoughts. >:D I’m gonna want all the deets. Consider it payback for me corroborating the so-called virus you supposedly caught to be out sick today.

  IOU and thanks, I type back, laughing out loud.

  “Who’re you texting?” Hunter asks.

  “Isabel. I had to tell her you’re taking me to Disneyland. Sounds like you just earned some major brownie points with her.”

  “If I’d known it would make you this happy, I would’ve brought you sooner.”

  “Everybody loves Disney,” I tell him. “Who wouldn’t be this happy?”

  He glances over at me. “So, Disney lover…what’s your favorite Disney movie?”

  “Beauty and the Beast, hands down,” I answer, not needing to think about it.

  Hunter laughs. “Let me guess. The huge library at the Beast’s place?”

  I poke him in the ribs, laughing with him. “As a matter of fact, yes. But also, Belle isn’t a princess. She’s just a regular girl who loved learning and wanted to make more of her life. She’s the kind of heroine a girl could look up to.”

  Suddenly I’m shy, and I look out the window, trying to pretend I haven’t just revealed something vulnerable about myself.

  “Hmm…as I recall she’s also smart, independent, and not deceived by handsome jerks like that Gaston guy. Sounds like she was a good role model,” Hunter offers.

  “Exactly,” I agree. “And she’s compassionate. I really love that.”

  We get to the park, and Hunter surprises me by pulling up the Disney app on his phone and leading us directly to the turnstiles. Apparently he already bought us Park Hopper Tickets with the MaxPass option. Guess this isn’t his first rodeo.

 
; As we walk through the gates and immediately get our photo taken in front of the huge floral Mickey planted in the entry lawn, my heart flutters in my chest. The place is giant. It’s way more magnificent in person than in pictures online. And because it’s a weekday during a non-holiday, there aren’t so many families flooding the park today. When we do end up waiting in a line, our FastPasses let us breeze through.

  We go to the Star Wars area of the park first, since Hunter says it always gets really crowded once the park is in full swing. After that we do Space Mountain, which is so much fun that I convince Hunter to go back on it again right away.

  In between making our way across the park to hit Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and Indiana Jones, I beg Hunter to make pitstops for hot churros and Dole Whips, since all the walking today has me starving. The sugar rush is exactly what I need to get energized for Pirates, and I’m delighted when we end up in a boat with a family that has two little kids singing along to the theme song for the entire ride.

  “We have to bring Harry with us next time,” I tell Hunter.

  “Totally,” he says. “My parents buy him an annual pass every year so they can bring him to the park whenever, but I know he’ll have way more fun with us.”

  After we’re done yo-ho’ing, Hunter buys us pirate Mickey Mouse ear hats with our names embroidered on them. I can’t believe he doesn’t think he’s too cool to wear his along with me as we watch the jazz band perform “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” in New Orleans Square. I’m seriously having the best time of my life.

  I give a shout of glee when we see Alice and the Mad Hatter walking around by the Peter Pan ride, and Hunter has a passerby take a picture of the four of us grinning from ear to ear. Then I drag him along on every single kiddie ride that we’re not too tall to get on, which I insist is a necessary warm up for the scary Haunted Mansion ride.