I shook my head and sighed, knowing there was no way I could get my ass out of this mess.
“Yay,” I muttered, “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I hoped Holly was in a good mood. I’d much rather preferred to be in the presence of a cute little two-year-old than spend another minute with that manipulative, conceited, annoying womanizer.
I didn’t understand how they were related. Holly was such an angel and Fox was such a beast. I meant that in a bad way.
The worst way possible.
Chapter 8
“Emery!” I heard someone shout, “Emery Price!”
I spun around, bumping into someone in the process, and headed back into the direction of Mrs. Sawyer’s room. Of course, her room was on a different lane of the hallway. I was going in the opposite direction of everyone else and trying to dodge traffic, which took me some time.
“Yes?” I asked, fixing my basically windswept hair.
“I just wanted to let you know beforehand that you scored highest on the exam last week,” she started, leaning against her desk. But before I could jump for joy, a giant box of irony fell from the sky and ruined my moment of glory.
“I would like for you to know that your participation in this class is crucial, and I’ve yet to see you raise your hand and say what is on your mind,” Mrs. Sawyer stated, folding her hands in her lap as she remained on the edge of her desk.
I could feel my cheeks turn pink as we stood there in silence.
“I’ll work on it, Mrs. Sawyer, I just – it’s not… particularly easy for me to speak out in class,” I told her weakly.
“Well Ms. Emery, you’d better fix that before both your grade and your self-confidence suffer greatly,” she said sternly. “That is all. I expect a little more from you next week in class. We’ll be discussing A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
I caught her emphasis on the dreadful D word.
Another thing to add to my To Do List: work on social and public speaking skills.
***
.FOX POV.
POW! The gun went off, and did we.
With a quick burst of energy, I established my position at a comfortable and temporary 2nd place.
I could feel the ground beneath me moving, like I was on a treadmill. Following the tiny little guy that was in the lead, I waited for just the right moment to claim victory.
60 meters in; he’s still going strong. Impressive, but not good enough.
He was breathing hard, and his legs weren’t moving as swiftly as before. I took advantage of this fault. As he slowed down, I took the liberty of speeding up.
The checkered flag waved as I crossed the finish line in 1st, Nick took 2nd, little man – 3rd.
“Too easy,” I breathed, giving Nick dabs.
We sprinted back over to Coach D, where we had water waiting for us.
“Excellent boys,” he commented, slapping us on the back with his meaty hands, “We’re going all the way again this year, I can feel it.”
“Hell yes, we are!” Nick laughed, spraying water all over his sweaty face.
I turned to the bleachers, where girls were screaming by the hundreds.
“This will never get old,” I laughed, waving to some of the blondes by the track. I ran my hands through my sweaty hair and winked at them, sending three girls into a fit of giggles.
“How do you do it, man?” Nick sighed.
“You just wink, and they flock to you, Nikki. It’s simple,” I shrugged, humoring his stupid question, while scanning the crowds for more girls.
“No – I mean, how do you not get bored?” he asked, stretching for the next race.
“Bored? Of girls?” I asked incredulously, thinking I had heard him wrong.
“Of so many girls. You’ve never met one that stuck out to you? One that was better than all the rest?” he asked, messing up his brown, shaggy mop.
“Nope,” I scowled, “And if I did I’d never-” let her go. I didn’t finish the sentence, because Nick didn’t need me to rag on him anymore than his parents did.
Someone’s incessant shrills caught my attention, and I scanned the bleachers for the source.
Gorgeous blonde, gorgeous redhead, cute blonde, no, no…
My eyes landed on a relatively short girl – in Red Cross attire - jumping up and down with a poster in her hands, shouting, “Donate Blood! Save a life!”
Good Lord.
***
.EMERY POV.
I was jumping up and down, frantically advertising the Blood Drive. In the midst of it all, I ended up making a complete fool of myself. These people went to my school.
Despite my flushed face, my sore throat, and my need for punching Fox in the gut for dragging Nina into this, I continued my shouting.
After a while, I got used to the strange looks people were giving me. Even though I was still dreading Monday’s Creative Writing class, I sucked it up and put on a brave face. Donating blood was a serious thing. I was old enough to donate this year, and if I could save a life, or help someone out, then hell yeah I would do it.
“Think of the others!” I said, holding Holly in one hand while I waved the small poster board with the Red Cross sign on it.
I almost resulted in bribing them with a free slice of pizza, like all the other major hospitals were doing, but Nina said it was a last resort. Pizza cost a lot of money, and we were not sure if we could pay for it since we were a nonprofit organization.
“Guilt trip, huh?” a husky voice asked behind me.
“Yep - oddly enough, embarrassing myself didn’t work,” I huffed, facing Fox with what I hoped was a cold glare.
He smirked, eyeing the brunette approaching us. She was a carbon copy of Megan Fox, except she had more Botox.
“Hey Foxtrot, nice legs,” she said, biting her bottom lip seductively.
Foxtrot? I stifled my laughter as I turned to Fox. He seemed distracted.
“Thanks, Teresa,” he responded, struggling to focus on her face rather than her exposed chest.
“Call me Ree,” she giggled, twirling her straightened and fried brown hair with a bony, manicured finger. She was so pushing her chest out.
“Not in front of the children!” I scolded, cradling Holly close. I gave Teresa a disapproving look before moving on to the next set of bleachers.
What a ho. Both of them were, actually. What hoes.
“Racers to the starting line!” a voice announced.
I saw Teresa squeeze Fox’s butt, sending him towards the others.
I shook my head and walked back over to Nina. We had a little bench in front of the tennis court, where we hung the giant banner over the tall fence. She was sitting with her legs perched up against the little wooden table we’d set up. Her ankles were nowhere in sight.
“Any luck, honey?” Nina sighed.
“Not really - even annoying them isn’t working,” I shrugged, taking a seat on the bench beside her.
“Well at least we got you and me so far. That counts for something. And all the staff at the hospital too,” she pointed out, gesturing for me to give her Holly.
“Yeah, but we could use an extra hundred donors.”
We sat there, watching the race for a while. The sun was slowly starting to set as autumn was drifting in, but God, was it humid.
I watched Fox as he sped off, leaving hopeful competitors in the dust. He was smart when it came to a game plan, that was a given. Sly, too.
His hair flopped in his face as he crossed the line and came to a halt, placing his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath.
Everyone in the bleachers stood and chanted his name as he smiled and poured water all over his face and hair.
It must’ve felt great: the rush of winning a race and having everyone clap for you. Must suck to be on the losing team; embarrassing.
That was why I never tried out for sports; I was so afraid of losing and humiliating myself. I didn’t risk it.
The table rocked a little, snapping me out
of my daze.
I looked up, expecting to see a potential donor, but instead I saw the track star – soaking wet and dripping water.
“Excellent race, Fox.” Nina smiled.
“Thanks, Nina,” he said, returning her smile, “How’s the donor list coming along?”
“It’s not,” I muttered before Nina had a chance to explain our lack of progress in a positive way.
Fox furrowed his brow and looked at the list, which only had mine and Nina’s names on it. He scribbled his name down, too, and then walked over to the fence behind us.
“What are you doing?” I asked, curiously turning over in the bench to watch him.
“How do you get this banner off? Just pull?” He ignored my question, asking his own.
I nodded, still confused.
With one jerk he ripped the banner off the fence and started dragging it across the grass to the track.
“Hey!” I yelled, “What the hell, Fox!”
“Emery!” Nina scolded.
“Nina, he freakin’ tore the banner down!” I protested. Was she blind? Or just too nice?
“Yes, but look,” Nina said, a soft smile playing on her tired face.
I reluctantly turned toward the track, hands on hips, preparing to shout out Fox again. But I didn’t.
Fox was holding one side of the banner, while Nick took the other, and together they started sprinting down the track. They ran slow enough so the banner wouldn’t whip around in the wind, but fast enough so everyone saw it and could read it.
People started cheering them on, and I grabbed the little poster I’d been advertising before and held it up, waving it around for everyone.
Sure enough, dozens of people started walking towards our little station to sign up for the drive. We gave them each a form to fill out from the doctor’s office, to make sure they were healthy enough for it.
It was amazing… I couldn’t get anyone to sign up, but two hot guys with a banner could get the entire crowd running to join.
A cocky Fox came back up to us and placed the folded banner at my feet, grinning with pleasure.
“Fox, you really are a life-saver,” Nina said, chuckling at her joke.
“Yes, well,” he grinned, looking over at me, “I try.”
As people slowly started leaving the field, Fox helped me load the van while Nina played with Holly in the passenger seat. She said something about not feeling well, so I was going to drive us back to the RCC.
Fox slammed the trunk closed and started rummaging through his gym bag for something.
I gave him a questioning look as he took my hand and shoved a hundred dollar bill into it.
“Dude, that’s way too much,” I argued, holding it back out to him.
“No, you came here against your will, and Holly loves you… for some reason,” he muttered, waving the money off as if it meant nothing to him.
I couldn’t take this much from him.
“Fox, seriously-” I started, but he cut me off.
“Look, think of it as cash in advance.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll be requiring your babysitting services in the future,” he smirked, opening the passenger door to take Holly from Nina.
“Take care, dear,” Nina sighed.
“You too, Nina,” he said earnestly before turning in the direction of the parking lot.
I rubbed my temples and hopped into the car.
He would be requiring my babysitting services again? …What the hell for?
Chapter 9
.EMERY POV.
“Alright students – why do you think Hermia preferred Lysander sleep elsewhere, rather than with her in the forest?” Mrs. Sawyer asked abruptly, lifting her head from the manuscript.
She scanned the room, and even though several students had their hands up, her eyes zeroed in on me, and narrowed.
I meekly raised my hand to eye level.
“Yes, Emery?” She asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
“Well… these are Shakespearean times, when people waited until marriage to become intimate,” I practically whispered.
Mrs. Sawyer nodded slightly, nodding at something behind me.
“Mr. Evans?” She asked.
I listened to what he had to say, curious myself.
“I think it’s because Hermia’s just a prude who thinks she’s in love, but she’s not. I think she’s just playing him because she knows it’ll piss her father off,” he said, and a couple guys smirked.
“Language, Mr. Evans,” Mrs. Sawyer corrected. Her eyes were slits.
I muttered something under my breath, and apparently I wasn’t discreet enough.
“Would you like to add to Mr. Evans’ hypothesis, Emery?” her eyebrows lifted, causing her forehead to crinkle, “Please, do share.”
I exhaled deeply, hoping I wouldn’t regret this.
“It isn’t Hermia’s fault - she’s a young adolescent, who’s a little hesitant taking her 5th layer of clothing off in front of a man that isn’t thinking with his heart, rather his testosterone,” I stated, sitting a little straighter in my desk.
Mrs. Sawyer raised her chin and a creepy looking smile grew on her lips.
“What was that?” Fox whispered in my ear.
I turned around. “That was me defending my gender, Mr. Evans, too many big words for you?” I asked innocently.
He smiled teasingly, “Are you speaking from experience, Emery?”
“What experience?”
“Exactly,” he smirked, “You are just like Hermia. Except… she has a significant other.”
“And you’re just like the ass, the drunken fairies will love you for a night, and then regret it for the rest of their lives,” I practically spat, turning back in my seat to face the front.
It was eerily silent, and I noticed all the eyes were on me.
“No, no, keep going,” Mrs. Sawyer encouraged wickedly, “It was getting interesting.”
Shit.
“I do believe, we have a debate taking place,” Mrs. Sawyer announced, walking up to the front of the class, “Emery will defend the Shakespearean times, and Fox will speak on behalf of modern society.”
I reluctantly sauntered to the front of the room to the right side of Mrs. Sawyer’s desk, and tried to calm my flaming cheeks.
White is for Virgins Page 8