I’m in panic mode. “Oh, c-crap! I’m s-so sorry. I can’t believe I did that. I’m not a bad driver. I wasn’t even on my phone! I swear.” I’ve just realized a stammer from long ago that I struggled to get rid of is slowly coming back.
He smiles at me and chuckles. “I didn’t say anything. But it’s good to know you weren’t on your phone. You know, because that’s dangerous.”
My eyebrow lifts. “I thought I heard you got a ticket for texting last month.”
“As I said, dangerous.” He winces. I heard his parents took away his car for two weeks, and Felicia threw a fit because she had to cart him around. “How’d you know that anyway?”
“Word gets around.” I shrug like I didn’t overhear Felicia’s rant in the girls’ locker room.
“I think we should exchange information,” he says.
“Information?” I’m so dazed at that moment, I forget about our cars and how their bumpers kissed.
“You know, for the insurance.”
“Oh.” My cheeks ache from heat. “Yeah, right. Are you going to file a police report?”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. Plus, I don’t really want to deal with Sheriff Frost.” He curls his lip in disgust.
I chuckle nervously and go back to my car to take out my information. We both snap photos with our phones of each other’s registration, licenses, and the car damage. As I hand him back his insurance card and ID, his hand brushes against mine, but then he snatches it back. “Sorry.” Unlike my pasty cheeks that turn crimson red, his bronze skin turns slightly peach.
“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay. His hands are so soft he must use lotion on them regularly. But before I say anything more, I remember Felicia’s note and how she described him as the Blackmailed Boyfriend. It doesn’t bode well with me that Felicia used Jaxon to get what she wanted. What’s worse is he might know something that could lead me to Felicia’s whereabouts before she died.
“I’m sorry about Felicia. How are you doing?” I know it’s the expected thing to say.
“Oh…” He furrows his dark brows “Thanks. I’m fine. To be honest, I’m better than I thought I would be.” He shrugs. I wish I could tell him that’s understandable since Felicia was blackmailing him for whatever reason.
“Everyone copes differently. I mean, it only happened two days ago. It will probably hit you when you least expect it.”
He nods with a faraway look in his eyes that resembles the texture of a dying leaf. “I guess my lack of concern is the reason they questioned me.”
“They questioned you?” I say before realizing how intrusive it is.
He snaps out of his trance and frowns. “Doesn’t matter. Sorry. You don’t need to hear about that stuff. I guess I’ll see you at school.”
“Oh, um … okay.”
He walks back to his car while I stand there, watching him drive away. I get into my car and follow him to school. It feels like I’m stalking him, but we are going to the same place.
I park my car in the back of the lot, as usual. I like my space from other cars. When I get out and start toward the school, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s definitely something off about Jaxon.
I’m running late and can’t even make it to my locker before first period. All throughout class, my mind is consumed with thoughts of Jaxon Smith.
In between classes, I make it to my locker, busy unpacking my books when I hear, “You’re cute when you’re thinking hard. You know that, Lake?” Ryder’s voice is husky. Most girls would probably swoon, but I’m not as dim with low standards.
I slam my locker door shut. “Are you stalking me or something?”
His eyes twinkle with mischief. “Maybe.” Today’s shirt says, Oh for, with an image of a fox, and after it, the word sake! I roll my eyes, even though I think it’s kind of cute. “But I wouldn’t get much out of it. You’re so closed off and don’t go anywhere. I’d end up being a peeping Tom if I was stalking you.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
He snorts, leaning his tall frame against the lockers. The top of his hair falls into his eyes, and he blows it out of the way. He looks like a model and uses it to his advantage. He has no shame when it comes to hookups. You’d think as popular as he is with girls, he’d leave me alone. However, this pretty boy gets a kick out of taunting me. I once overheard some girls talking about how annoying it was that he paid so much attention to me, and how they wanted him to notice them like that. I can’t understand how they could find being teased and taunted endearing, or even be jealous of it. Maybe our education system is truly failing the students at Cherish Valley High. Well, everyone except for me. I would never fall for Ryder Frost’s charms or looks. I have a brain, and I use it on a regular basis.
“I’m not a creep.” He looks offended.
“Then why do you always bother me?” Though I’m dismissive, I’m genuinely curious. There are so many other girls he could bother, but I’m his favorite. He doesn’t respond, so I leave him and stalk down the hall to my next class. Sadly, he follows.
“We’re a lot alike, you know? Maybe I just want to be your friend,” he says as he catches up to my pace.
“And maybe I don’t want to be harassed on a daily basis by a dimwitted pretty boy. We can’t always get what we want, Ryder.” I give him a condescending smirk.
“You think I’m pretty?” He bats his needlessly long eyelashes. I don’t bite. “Don’t you hate being a loner?”
“Other than the girls who hang off of you, you seem pretty lonely, too. As I said yesterday, I don’t do friends.” I’m completely exhausted, and his pursuit annoys me more than usual.
“So closed off.” I glower at him and he smirks. “You know, one day you’re going to regret not taking me up on my offer to be your friend.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my annoyance and stop outside of our English class. “I think I’ll take my chances, just like you take your chances every time you let a cheerleader pull your zipper down. You know some STDs are incurable.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to come around sooner rather than later.”
Someone bumps into me hard, and I fall to the floor. My bag falls off my shoulder, and all its contents are splayed on the ground. There are a few snickers, which includes Jessica’s all-too-obnoxious Wicked Witch of the West giggle. I push myself off the floor without a word to Ryder. My stuff’s scattered across the hall, and only Ryder seems to notice. He bends down and helps me collect my things.
“She’s such a troll.” Ryder shakes his head in disgust then he hands me one of my books. I grab it from him and shove it in my bag. Though I’m used to it, sometimes I wish I did have a friend, someone who would defend me, or at least offer a hand. Instead, I have Ryder.
“Are you okay?” he asks. That’s two days in a row now Ryder has seemed concerned about my wellbeing. It’s not necessarily strange, but it’s more annoying than usual.
“I’m used to it.”
He gives me a pitying look. “This is why you need a friend.”
“Maybe. But I don’t need you. I know what kind of friends you have. Any time I see you, you’re with one of the many girls you hang out with—and it’s not in friendly way. You have a hand-up-their-skirt kind of relationship with them.”
I finally have everything stuffed in my bag and stand. Ryder does the same.
“Thanks for your help, but next time you don’t have to go out of your way.”
“You know, sometimes I don’t get your hard exterior. It’s like you enjoy suffering.” He doesn’t say it cruelly, but it hurts. I don’t like any of this; it’s just the way life is.
I hear a throat clear. I look to my side to see Jaxon standing there, gazing at me with concern in his eyes. “Is he bothering you, Lake?”
Never in my life did I expect Jaxon to notice my
existence, let alone stand there looking like he’s ready to defend me against Ryder Frost.
“Uh …” My brain’s melting. This has to be a dream, a most wonderful dream. I’m not lucky enough to talk to Jaxon Smith, and I’m definitely not worthy of talking to him twice in one day.
“I’m not bothering her.” Ryder gives him a cocky grin. “Bickering and name-calling is foreplay for us. It makes Lake really hot.”
Jaxon’s eyebrows shoot up, and heat fills my cheeks. “Ryder!”
Jaxon glances at us, as though realizing something. “I didn’t know you were a couple.”
“We’re not!” I snap at the same time Ryder says, “No worries.”
Just what I need. The first time Jaxon actually pays attention to me, he misinterprets my relationship with Ryder Asshat Frost. I want to cut Ryder like a bitch.
The bell rings and Ryder says, “We haven’t really defined our relationship yet. It’s all so new.”
“Right.” Jaxon doesn’t sound convinced. He winks at me before he moves between us to walk into the classroom. I don’t know whether to take it as though he’s on my side, or if he’s poking fun at me. I can’t help but watch as he struts away.
“You know, that crush of yours isn’t going to get you anywhere with him,” Ryder says. “You should just give up and fall in love with me. I promise I’d make you happy.”
I scowl at him. “You’re laying it on thick today. You know you’re a twat nugget, right?”
Before he can answer, I shove past him and stalk into the classroom. Mr. Crane glances up from the papers stacked neatly on his desk. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. He doesn’t look as frazzled as yesterday. “Good morning, Lake.”
I nod and head toward the back row. No one bothers me as I make my way there. Always being invisible is a plus, and sitting in the back row helps with that. I don’t have to wonder what my peers are doing behind my back whenever I answer a question that makes me look like a know-it-all. I can see all, except maybe their eye rolls.
Barely anyone sits in the back. It’s funny that the most popular girls fill the first two rows, hoping Mr. Crane will pay attention to them, though they never answer a question right. Today’s different, because the seat next to mine is filled with the body of one long-legged hot piece of Jaxon. He’s on his cellphone, texting someone. Oh, how I wish to be the buttons on that phone.
I take my seat and his fingers stall as he turns to face me. “So, you and Frost?”
“Maybe in one of his warped dreams and in one of my nightmares,” I say, and he chuckles this dulcet sound. I gawk in awe but stop myself from drooling.
“All right, everyone, please be seated. I want you to know I will not be collecting your essays about tact. That is for you to review yourselves,” Mr. Crane announces as people continue to walk in.
Relief washes over me. I hadn’t bothered doing the assignment, and from the look on everyone else’s face, the whole class didn’t, either.
“Everyone, please get out your copy of The Homecoming,” Mr. Crane says.
Like everyone else, I pull out my copy of Harold Pinter’s The Homecoming and groan at the thought of reading the book in class.
“I think Mr. Crane wants us to suffer,” Jaxon mumbles to me. I can’t help but give him a little smile.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who hates Pinter,” I say.
“I’m more of an Edward Albee kind of guy myself,” he adds.
“You know who Edward Albee is?”
He cracks a smile. “We went over Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? last month.”
He’s smarter than I thought. I feel kind of bad I didn’t think that before.
“Mr. Smith,” Mr. Crane’s voice breaks. “Do you have something to say to the rest of the class?”
“No,” Jaxon says, sitting back in his chair.
“Okay, let’s begin, page fifty,” Mr. Crane instructs.
As Mr. Crane picks on someone to read, I chance a glance in Jaxon’s direction. Our eyes meet, and my heart sputters when he graces me with a slight smile. He turns away from me and focuses on the book. Suddenly, a chill creeps up my spine, and I can’t help but feel like someone is watching me. I glance around to find the culprit when my eyes lock on Ryder’s. His jaw is set, and his eyes are narrowed at me. I can’t look away. I force my eyes downward.
“Okay, let’s switch. Lake, would you please read for Ruth?” Mr. Crane says.
I jump at the sound of his voice. “Huh?”
A few kids laugh. Mr. Crane frowns. I always pay attention in class, so being distracted is definitely out of character.
“Page seventy-seven,” Jaxon says, only loud enough for only me to hear.
I flip to the page and read along with Jeremy Spencer, who of course is a theater rat and has to do the absolute most. Once I read for a bit, Mr. Crane calls on someone else. I look up at the front of the class, relieved, but find Mr. Crane gazing at me with concern. I feel bad for making someone else worry about me. I especially feel bad that it’s my favorite teacher. I turn back to my book and stare blankly at the page until Mr. Crane clears his throat.
“All right, class, our next assignment is a peer review of your outline for our next essay. Everyone, turn to the person next to you and …”
People are moving their desks fast. I’m usually the odd one out, and Mr. Crane doesn’t seem to mind. He’s one of the only teachers who realizes if I’m grouped with others, I’ll be the one doing the actual work. I’m stunned when Jaxon moves his desk to face mine. I just ogle him as he says, “Partner?”
“Uh, sure.” I can’t believe it. I’m living in a dream world. I can really use a good slap back to reality right now, but this is reality.
“Mind if I join you?” Ryder’s voice breaks through my daydream. “We have an odd number of students in this class.”
“Uh, sure,” Jaxon says at the same time I say, “Screw off.”
Jaxon chuckles. “Come on, Lake. What’s the harm in having two partners?”
I want to argue with Jaxon, but he’s so considerate to include Ryder in our group, so I sigh and let it go. We spend the rest of class discussing our big essay that’s due at the end of the semester. I’m surprised by how serious they both are when it comes to the work. Ryder says he already began the paper two weeks ago, and even has a draft, while Jaxon has an intricate outline. I’m the odd one out for once. Though I may be a straight-A student, I procrastinate to the last minute. I attribute my high marks to being an amazing bullshit artist. If you can bullshit well, you’re set for life.
Finally, when the bell rings, Jaxon’s the first to move his seat back. He turns to us and says, “See you guys later. I’ll call about the car situation, Lake.”
“Uh, okay,” I slur, completely in “like” with him.
He heads for the door while I’m still putting my stuff away.
“I’m really surprised by you, Lake. I mean, I didn’t think you’d be so shallow and have a thing for a jock. You seem so ‘anti-establishment,’” Ryder says with bunny ear quotes.
I scoff at him. “Ryder, why don’t you go blow a dildo and get out of my face.”
“I’m pretty sure that is out of my capacity,” Ryder says, and then he walks to the doorway, leaning against it, casually grinning at me. I begin to trudge from my seat. Before I can make it out of the row, Mr. Crane calls my name.
“Lake,” he says as the rest of the students leave the room. Mostly everyone is gone, except for Ryder. Mr. Crane’s eyes narrow in on him as he continues to loiter in the doorway. “Do you need something, Mr. Frost?”
“No,” Ryder says, before giving me a look I can’t decipher. His lips are pursed, and brow furrows. “Sorry,” he says to Mr. Crane, though his eyes linger on me before stepping away.
I turn back to Mr. Crane to find him glaring at the
vacant doorway for a brief moment before facing me. He has a soft half smile that’s full of concern.
“Are you okay? You seem out of it today.” He’s sitting in his desk chair, leaning back with his arms folded against his chest.
“I’m fine.” It’s odd for Mr. Crane to ask me how I’m doing. He’s a good teacher who cares for his students. Normally, I say I’m fine and go about my day, but today I’m on edge and think twice about lying. “Just tired is all.”
Mr. Crane always seems so composed, but at the moment he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. His jaw clenches tight, and his dark brown eyes nearly turn onyx. “Were you okay with both Jaxon and Ryder as your partners? I know you don’t normally like having anyone work with you.”
I shake my head. “Oh, I’m fine. Ryder may be annoying, but he’s a good student. And Jaxon is amazing—” Mr. Crane’s eyes bulge, and I’m flooded with embarrassment. “I mean he’s amazing with his studies.”
“I know.” Mr. Crane blows out a breath. “Well, if you ever need anything, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on …”
I don’t like to show much emotion to anyone. To top it off, exposing a vulnerability to my English teacher is probably the last thing I’d ever do. I mean, it’s one thing to tell him my troubles, but to cry on his shoulder would be a bit much. I turn toward the door, avoiding his eyes and say, “Thanks, Mr. Crane, but I’m good.”
I don’t waste another moment before I stalk out of the classroom. I’m so consumed with my thoughts that I gasp when I run right into a hard chest. Strong arms steady me, and I glance up to find Ryder staring down at me.
“What are you doing?” I grumble.
His expression is grim. Before I can do anything, he grabs my hand. “We need to talk.”
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