by Jordan Lynde
I chuckled and he grinned. He took a seat on the edge of my desk and looked down at me with a curious expression. Then his eyes narrowed slightly and my eyes met his.
“What?”
“This,” he said, putting a finger to my jaw. “How did you get cut on your jaw?”
My eyes widened and I inhaled sharply, quickly putting my hand over the cut. Crap! I had forgotten about that! Lance’s eyes narrowed even more.
“Did Mr. Heywood—”
“No!” I snapped, irritated he would even think that. “I cut myself shaving.”
“Uh-huh. So tell me, Holly, since when do you have a beard?”
I pursed my lips. “You don’t need to have a beard to shave. I did it as a precaution.”
Lance gave me a sarcastic look. “Okay, but I’m sure you know after you shave it grows back darker.”
“Well I’ll just continue to shave from now on,” I responded simply, shrugging my shoulders. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal. I can just do it while I’m shaving my—”
“Holly,” Lance said, his azure eyes piercing into my duller blue eyes. I fidgeted in my seat, uncomfortable under his gaze. He wasn’t going to make me crack. Lance’s eyes slightly narrowed and I mimicked the gesture. No, he wasn’t going to make me crack.
“I just got into a little trouble at the beach!” I blurted out. “Now stop looking at me like that!”
Lance smiled smugly for a moment before returning to a serious expression. “What happened?”
The bell went off, signaling the beginning of class. Lance frowned as I shooed him away with my hand. “I’ll tell you later.”
“You’d better,” he warned before walking to his seat in the back of the class.
I sighed, turning in my seat to face the front of the classroom when Mr. Heywood called for attention. I kept my eyes on him as he went through the attendance list, looking up every now and then to make sure a student was here or not. For some reason, he skipped my name. I shrugged; he already knew I was here, so that was probably why.
“So, it’s already November,” he started after he finished the attendance list, “do you know what that means?”
“It’s only been two months since school started and we still have eight months of hell to go through?” someone said from the back of the class.
The class laughed. Mr. Heywood smiled. “Well, that aside, we’ll be starting a project that we will continue until Thanksgiving break starts. “Any guesses as to what it is?”
His gaze went past mine, but our eyes did not come in contact. I frowned, somewhat bemused. Where were the usual teasing smirks he sent me? Was he trying to ignore me?
“An essay?” Haley asked, her hand in the air.
Mr. Heywood shook his head. “No, we won’t write any essays in here. Those are boring for you to write, and even more boring for me to read.”
Some people laughed, but I kept a straight face. What if he was ignoring me? What did I do? Was he angry, or what? I began drumming my fingers on my desk subconsciously.
“Book report?” another girl guessed.
“Nope.”
“An extremely long lab?” Lance guessed and I turned to grin at him. He caught my gaze and grinned back.
“No, but we’ll be doing those in the future,” Mr. Heywood responded, amusement in his voice. “It’s something better.”
The class stayed silent. I slowly raised my hand. As soon as it high enough to count as a hand raise, Mr. Heywood spoke. “Rat dissection.”
I scowled for a moment, dropping my arm as a few students groaned. He was definitely ignoring me. My stomach tightened uncomfortably, but not because we were going to be dissecting a rat.
“We’re going to be dissecting them for three whole weeks?” a girl named Charlotte asked, her eyes wide. “Why so long?”
Mr. Heywood chuckled, a smirk slipping onto his face.
Sure, smirk at her, but no, you can’t smirk at Holly, I thought, narrowing my eyes at him. Immediately I stopped. What was wrong with me? I was getting jealous because he was smirking at someone? I groaned internally.
“It isn’t a long time,” Mr. Heywood said to her. “Three weeks is just barely enough time.”
“I didn’t bring any gloves,” someone behind me pointed out.
“We’ll only be dissecting on double lab days,” he explained.
“Then what are we doing today?”
“Today you’ll be coloring a skeleton of the rat on the lab and labeling the bones and muscles.”
A groan swept throughout the classroom. I nearly rolled my eyes. Coloring wasn’t that bad. And the biology book had the skeletal and muscle structures already labeled on a picture.
“Are we working by ourselves?”
Mr. Heywood shook his head. “There aren’t enough rats, so you’ll work in pairs of two.”
Immediately everyone turned his or her head to their partner candidate. I looked over my shoulder to see Lance staring at me determinedly. He raised and eyebrow and I nodded. I didn’t know why he was asking. We were always lab partners.
“Would anyone like to volunteer to pass out the labs?”
Before anyone else could begin to lift his or her arm in the air, mine was already there. Mr. Heywood’s eyes finally met mine. Neither of us smiled. I swear I saw him sigh, which only made my stomach squirm even more.
“Okay, Ms. Evers, why don’t you go grab them out of the supply room?”
I stood up, keeping my eyes on his. He slowly started to frown, but didn’t look it away. Something caught the edge of my foot and I stumbled forwards, slamming my hands down on the edge of my desk and my neighbor’s desk. A few chuckles erupted from behind me, and I quickly pushed myself up. Why was I so clumsy?
Without looking back I dragged myself to the supply room, my face hot. I entered and grabbed the lab papers. When I was about to leave the room, an idea hit me. I placed the piles of paper on the far corner of the counter where the sink was. “Mr. Heywood?” I called, sticking my head out of the doorway. “The papers aren’t in the copier.”
He looked over at me, this time visibly sigh. I narrowed my eyes at him, offended, as he made his way towards me. I moved out of the way so he could enter the room.
“Are you ignoring me?” I accused in a whisper as soon as he was out of sight from the class.
He shot me an amused look before opening the copier and looking in it. “I’m not ignoring you.”
“Then why haven’t you looked at me?”
A smirk was now playing across Mr. Heywood’s features. I relaxed slightly from the sight of the familiar smile.
“You’ve been watching me?”
“The whole time!” I told him, my lips pursed.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second. I crossed my arms, looked down, and asked “Was it because I mentioned that thing you said at the beach?”
“No.”
His sudden cold tone made me look back up at him. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at me. I returned his look, my eyes wide.
“It is because of it!”
“No, it’s not,” he responded, scanning the room. “Where’d you put the labs?”
“I’m not trying to make you angry, Mr. Heywood,” I explained, biting my lip. “I just wanted to know—”
“Drop it, Holly,” he snapped at me, finally locating the pile of papers I moved. “This conversation is over.”
“But Mr. Heywood—”
“Over,” he repeated firmly.
“But I just . . .” I trailed off upon seeing his expression.
“This is none of your business,” he said brusquely before brushing past me with the papers in hand.
I blinked, shocked and a little hurt by his words. Obviously it wasn’t my business, but couldn’t he tell I was just worried about him? He didn’t have to be such a jerk about it! I scowled, clenching my fists as I trudged back out to the classroom.
Mr. Heywood was passing out the labs. Lance caught my attention and
he raised an eyebrow in amusement, mouthing something I didn’t quite catch. Knowing it was probably something teasing, I just rolled my eyes at him before slumping back down into my desk.
If Mr. Heywood thought I was going to let this go that easily he was wrong. Very, very wrong.
The rest of the day passed by in a flash. When the final bell rang, I quickly left my seventh period class and hurried towards Mr. Heywood’s classroom. The door was locked when I arrived. I knocked, frowning, and waited a moment. Still no one came to the door.
I sighed, turning around, crossing my arms, and leaning against it. If he wasn’t going to come out right now, I would wait for him all night if I had to. I wanted to know. Even though it really wasn’t my business. I was just being nosy . . . but the look on his face had hurt even me that night.
I glanced out the window in front of me and my eyes widened when I saw Mr. Heywood walking down the sidewalk towards the faculty parking lot. I shoved myself from the wall and made a break for the exit, hoping to cut him off. I slipped out the side door and literally ran into him.
He looked down at me with an expression torn between amusement and caution. I stared up at him resolutely, my mouth in a straight line. “I want to talk about it.”
“I don’t,” he said simply. “Holly, move.”
“But, Mr. Heywood,” I started, stepping in his way when he tried to move around me. “You can’t deny what your expression told me. It was so . . . horrible. It hurt.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Didn’t I mention this was none of your business?”
“I know you did!” I responded, growing frustrated. “But if I haven’t made it clear enough, I’m just worried about you!”
I blushed immediately, turning to look at the cement sidewalk. Why couldn’t he see that? And if he couldn’t see that I was worried about him, would he ever realize how I felt about him? I shook my head. That was a different matter entirely.
“Listen, Holly,” Mr. Heywood started, his voice much softer. “I’m sorry for worrying you, but this is something I don’t want to share.”
“Why not?”
He smiled wryly. “Because I don’t want you to think badly of me.”
“I couldn’t!” I responded almost immediately. “Okay, maybe I can, but not bad enough to make me view you any differently.”
He shook his head. “No, Holly. Sorry.”
“But—”
He exhaled slowly, looking at the watch around his wrist. “I’ve got to go.”
“Another date?” I asked dryly.
A small smile crossed his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re getting smarter every day.”
“Who are you dating?” I asked, trying to keep the frown from my face. “Is she your girlfriend?”
For a moment I thought I saw a flash of his expression from the night before. “Something like that,” he told me, gently pushing me out of the way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Just then a familiar black car pulled up next to us, music blaring from the inside. The window rolled down and Mr. Heywood stepped in front of me, glaring into the car. “What are you doing here, Jeremy?”
Jeremy smirked up at Mr. Heywood, then pointed at me with a slim finger. “I’m here to pick up Holly.”
“You are?” I asked, surprised. “Why?”
“We’re going on another date today,” he said happily. “C’mon, get in.”
Mr. Heywood started, “Jeremy—”
“Okay,” I said quickly, opening up the passenger door and sliding in. I closed it behind me, looking up at Mr. Heywood. “See you.”
“Holly, wait,” Mr. Heywood started, but Jeremy rolled up the window, making his words incoherent.
“That’s mean,” I told Jeremy, but grinned nonetheless.
“He’s mean,” Jeremy responded before switching gears and heading out of the parking lot. “Or at least I believe he was being mean from the expression on your face.”
“What expression?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The expression of unrequited love.”
I flushed, glaring at him. “There was no feeling of unrequited love.”
Jeremy laughed. “You can’t fool me. I’m a master of emotion.”
“Seriously.”
He tapped the steering wheel with one of his fingers. “But then again, it’s not unrequited.”
“Yes, it is,” I muttered, looking out the window.
Jeremy chuckled. “You’re so pessimistic. If you knew Chris, you’d know he definitely cares more about you than other people.”
“Probably because I’m caught up in his stupid gang problem.”
“You are really negative, you know that?”
“I can’t help it,” I sighed, turning to look at him. “I hate to admit it, but I really don’t know anything about Mr. Heywood other than what you tell me. He never tells me anything about himself. The only reason I know he cares about me in the least bit is because he admitted he worries about me.”
Jeremy sighed, glancing at me. “Holly, you have to understand Chris’s past is sort of difficult.”
“I figured as much.”
“Then don’t worry about him not telling you everything right now, okay? He will eventually, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Jeremy responded, a smile on his face. “And if he doesn’t, I can beat him up for you.”
I chuckled, brushing a stray hair from my face. “Jeremy, you never cease to make me feel better. It’s amazing.”
“Well, thank you,” he responded, winking at me. “Someone has to help support you in your journey to capture Topher’s heart. And also bring you back up when he brings you down without meaning to.”
“I never said it was my goal to ‘capture his heart,’” I pointed out, but still smiled.
“Oh, but it is.”
“So where are you taking me?” I asked, deciding for a topic change. “Home? To get ice cream?”
“Nope,” Jeremy responded, popping his mouth on the P. “You know how I told you I have two little sisters?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we are going to be babysitting them,” he told me with a grin.
LESSON TWENTY-ONE
It had started to rain by the time we arrived at his house. It wasn’t a torrential rain, but one heavy enough to make my shirt damp before we entered the house. While I was taking off my shoes, a young girl with brown hair came up to us, a questioning look on her face.
“Holly, this is Jenna,” Jeremy said, holding gesturing towards Jenna with his hand. “And Jenna, this is Holly.” He gestured towards me.
“Hi,” we both said in quiet voices.
Jeremy laughed, slapping my back. “Don’t be shy.”
I stumbled forwards from the force of the slap. A small smile slipped onto Jenna’s face. I smiled back at the thirteen-year-old, figuring she was just smiling at my pain.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she told me, brushing her bangs out of her face. “Jeremy likes to talk about you.”
I gave him a curious look. “Really?”
“Well, about you and Chris.”
Jeremy looked at me sheepishly as my questioning look turned into a glare. I turned back to Jenna with a forced smile. “Does he now?”
She nodded. “Your life sounds like a drama, the way Jeremy describes it.”
I scowled at Jeremy, who was now scratching the back of his head. I did my best to resist kicking him.
“Jenna, let’s not talk about that, okay?” he suggested, guiding me further into the house with a hand on my back. “Let’s go find Jane.”
“Jane is your seven-year-old sister?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yup. She can be a brat sometimes.”
“More like all the time,” Jenna muttered, tagging along aside us.
“Jeremy, Jenna, and Jane,” I said out loud, a smile appearing on my face. “I see a trend here.”
“Can you guess what our parents n
ames are?” Jenna asked.
“James and June?”
“Close,” Jeremy responded with a smirk. “James and Julie.”
I grinned. “That’s cool. A family of J, huh?”
“Too bad our last name doesn’t begin with a J,” Jeremy said, steering me up a flight of stairs.
“What is your last name?” I asked, surprised that I hadn’t noticed I didn’t know it before.
“Ross.”
“Oh . . .”
“I bet you’re thinking Holly Ross doesn’t sound good together,” Jeremy said while looking wistful.
I shook my head immediately. “No!”
“Holly Heywood doesn’t sound good either.”
I shot him a dirty look. “I wasn’t thinking that either!”
“I never said you were.”
“Jeremy, stop fighting with Chris’s girlfriend,” Jenna interrupted, rolling her eyes. “He’ll kill you.”
“G-girlfriend?” I repeated, staring at the girl in shock. “No! No, no, no, we aren’t dating! Jeremy!” I glared at him again.
Jeremy laughed sheepishly. “Jenna, didn’t I say not to talk about that?”
“What did you tell her?” I demanded, crossing my arms.
“I was just putting my input in,” Jenna said to Jeremy, shrugging her shoulders.
“Let’s just drop it,” Jeremy suggested.
“What did you tell her?” I repeated, grabbing Jeremy’s shirt. “Girlfriend? What?”
“Actually I believe my words were ‘soon-to-be girlfriend’,” Jeremy corrected, easily pulling out of my grasp. “And don’t worry, I don’t tell her much.”
“He only complains,” Jenna interjected. “He’s always saying how one of you should fess up your feelings otherwise it’ll be too late.”
I blushed, scowling at the blond. “What are you? An old lady that likes to gossip?”
He shrugged. “I have to express my frustrations about you guys somehow.”
“It’s not even your business!”
“I just want Chris to be happy. He deserves it,” Jeremy responded, ruffling hair. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then help me understand!”
“It’s not my right to tell you.”
“Well if both you and Mr. Heywood won’t, then who will?” I demanded, growing increasingly frustrated.