#HateThatBoy

by Yesenia Vargas

  “Girls, we’ve been training for ten weeks, and state is almost here. Even when one of our own suffered an injury, we got right back up and came back stronger than ever.”

  Several of us eyed Claire, who still had her arm in a cast. It wasn’t broken, but she wouldn’t be able to cheer with us tomorrow. She’d have to wait until nationals.

  I turned back to Coach Davis, who was still talking. “You girls are strong. Don’t forget it. You’ve worked hard to get here. We deserve this as much as anyone else.”

  Her expression was hard, like she would do whatever it took to get her hands on that first-place trophy tomorrow. “Let’s go out there and bring it. Show them what we’re made of, and most importantly, make me proud.”

  I crossed my legs in front of me and clapped and cheered with everyone else.

  “We can do this!” Mia yelled.

  I smiled at her show of enthusiasm. It definitely got the girls riled up.

  Coach Davis put her hands on her hips and stepped closer. “Our routine is gonna wow those judges tomorrow. But remember, we’re a team, and the team is counting on every single person here.”

  Her eyes landed on me, and I nodded, my gaze steady.

  The team was counting on me. I pushed every other thing that wasn’t cheer out of my brain.

  I’d land every single stunt tomorrow. We’d nail our routine, and together, we’d place at state and get that much closer to a national title.

  There was no room for anything else.

  Seven

  We managed to walk away from state with a second-place trophy, even though we didn’t have Claire. We had pulled off our first big win of the year and qualified for nationals.

  It also meant we had to keep practicing and focus more than ever if we wanted a shot at a national win for the first time in the cheer history of Westwood High. Last year, we had come close, but this year, a solid victory felt within reach.

  After we got off the bus back at Westwood High, Coach announced the end of two-a-days, but only so we could double up in the afternoon. Practice would feel endless, but it beat getting up extra early every day.

  On Monday, the principal announced the squad’s win during homeroom, and the #BFFs found me right away to congratulate me.

  Then I walked with Harper to our lockers before first period.

  She frowned. “How’d you do on the Gatsby paper? Did you have five pages? I barely got to page five and only had two sources.”

  “The Gatsby paper?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  Harper blinked back at me for a few seconds. “The one due today…”

  My mouth fell open in horror. “That’s due today? Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  But Harper didn’t kid around with stuff like that. I put my backpack down in the middle of the hallway and searched frantically for my agenda to confirm what I already knew.

  I opened it to today and groaned. “No! I completely forgot about it. I was supposed to finish going over it last night and print it, but I fell asleep!”

  Harper stared at me. “Do you have it with you? I bet you can finish it and print it in the library. We have a few minutes before government starts.”

  Meeting her eyes, a glimmer of hope formed in my chest. “You’re right. As long as I have it ready by the end of lunch, I should be good. Let’s go. I should have my USB with me. I don’t care if I’m tardy.”

  I turned to her as we walked. “But it’s totally okay if you want to go to government.”

  Harper bit her lip. “If you’re sure you’ve got this. I can take notes since we have that big test day after tomorrow and make sure you get a copy.”

  I stopped. “We have a test day after tomorrow? I thought that was next week!”

  Harper shook her head, and the warning bell rang. Great.

  “Well, this is just perfect,” I said. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

  She ran off toward government, and I sped toward the library.

  What a great start to my day.

  I walked into the library, and right away, the librarian gave me an annoyed look worthy of any cheerleader. This woman didn’t even bother to hide how much she hated us coming into her media center. “Excuse me, young lady, it’s time you got to class.”

  I hardly glanced at her as I continued power-walking toward the computers. “I just need to print something off. It’ll only take a minute.”

  She looked like she wanted to chew my head off, but I was already at the computers with my back to her.

  I unzipped my backpack again and dug around, opening each pocket. Panic grew inside me with every second that passed.

  No, no, no. It had to be in here. Hadn’t I put it back in my backpack this morning?

  I looked again, but I knew it was pointless.

  My USB was probably at home, still plugged into my computer.

  Shutting my eyes, I withstood the strong urge to groan and say a few choice words.

  A quiet voice interrupted my panicked thoughts. “You okay over there?”

  I turned to the sound, which I immediately recognized.

  Noah Thomas, sitting at the small table just beyond the long row of computers.

  If that smug grin grew any wider, I’d—

  “Technical difficulties?” he asked, but we both knew that wasn’t it.

  “More like human error,” I replied, looking down at my backpack, where my USB should be.

  “Does this have anything to do with the Gatsby paper due today?”

  Did everyone know that paper was due today except me?

  “Yes, it does.” I zipped my book bag back up.

  “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, still seated, but his computer forgotten.

  “Not unless you can somehow teleport to my house and grab my USB from my computer, finish writing my paper, and print it out for me.” I slung a strap on my shoulder and got ready to leave.

  Maybe I could text my mom, have her call the office saying it was okay for me to check out, run home, finish my paper, print it, and make it back in time.

  I turned to leave without saying goodbye.

  “You said your USB is still plugged into your computer?” he asked.

  I stopped and turned around. “Yeah, so?”

  The first period bell rang.

  “So maybe I can get your paper for you.”

  The librarian walked over, hands on her hips. “You two are tardy. You need to get to class now.”

  “We’re on our way to class now,” I assured her.

  Without another word, she spun around and made her way back to the front desk.

  I turned back to Noah. “Okay.”

  He grabbed his stuff and stood up. He wore dark khaki pants that sat on his hips plus a thin red hoodie. “Follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  The librarian shot us one last mean look before going back to wiping down books.

  “You’ll see,” Noah said, keeping his gaze forward as we exited the library, his messenger bag across his chest.

  After our last conversation, I wondered why he wanted anything to do with me. “Don’t you have to get to class, though? I mean, why would you want to help me anyway?”

  Turning to me, he said, “Turns out you were right about Krista.”

  I had no idea what to say to that, so I settled for nodding.

  We walked all the way down the science wing, passing students rushing to class.

  He stopped at the last door on the left before glancing behind us. I did the same. The one teacher on hallway duty near us had her back to us.

  He opened the door, and I followed him inside, eyeing the hallway one last time.

  When I stepped in, he was right there, looking down at me. The only light came from a ray of sunshine pouring into the room through the far window.

  My stomach twisted from staring into his cobalt blue eyes, and I tried to think of something to say. Then Noah locked the door and turned on the lights.

  Oh. Oka
y.

  His grin was back, and I rolled my eyes and walked toward one of the desks.

  We took a seat, and he got out his computer.

  This classroom was almost completely empty, just a few random desks. Even the walls were devoid of the colorful, information-filled posters teachers usually plastered everywhere.

  “How’d you know about this room?” I asked.

  “Found it by accident the other day,” he said, opening up his laptop.

  “Uh huh. Accident.”

  He looked up at me. “Let’s just say I’m not a big fan of art. It was the only elective besides P.E. still available, and old Mr. Martin hardly notices I’m gone.”

  “Wow,” I said. But smart. It was a well-known fact that Mr. Martin pretty much gave A-pluses to everybody as long as they put forth “effort.” According to the latest rumors, he was set to retire this year, although it probably should have happened a decade ago.

  “So let’s do this,” he said. “I’m assuming your home computer is connected to the internet?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly.

  “Good,” he said. “Otherwise, I’d say why are we even here. Is it Windows or Mac?”

  “Windows,” I replied.

  He began typing. “That should make things easier. And you didn’t save this paper in the cloud because…”

  I groaned. “Because maybe I’m old-school and I still carry around a USB.”

  He stared at me like I had just said I was Amish.

  “I was working on it in different places, and using a USB just seemed easier!” I said, wondering why we were still discussing this.

  He raised his hands in defense. “Just wondering. But honestly, the year 2005 called, and it wants its tech back.”

  “Haha,” I answered dryly. “For someone who offered to help, you sure are being a snob.”

  “Want me to do this or not?” he asked, meeting my eyes and no longer typing, but I could tell he was teasing.

  I didn’t answer his question, so he went back to typing. “I need your email address and password. Don’t worry, you can change it after we’re done. You know, in case there’s something in there you don’t want me to read.”

  “Please,” I said. “I hardly even use it.”

  I opened my notes app and found my list of passwords. “Here,” I said, sliding my phone toward him. “Snoop all you want.”

  He winked at me before glancing at the screen for a few seconds and typing some more. “Thank you. Give me a few minutes.”

  I took back my phone and checked the time. There was an unread text from Harper.

  Harper: Any luck??

  Tori: I forgot my USB at home, but luckily I found some help. Be there soon.

  Putting my phone away, I took a peek at Noah’s computer screen. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and he never looked down like I did when I typed. Even so, I always ended up with tons of typos.

  A program I didn’t recognize filled the screen along with code I didn’t understand.

  Only the sound of our breathing could be heard, and I realized I was alone with a relatively cute guy in an empty classroom. The thought of it made me blush a little, which was weird because I was not the type to blush.

  I turned back to the desk in front of me and noticed the initials someone had traced into the fake wood, to be left behind forever.

  J.S. & M.G.

  I wondered how long that had been there and if J.S. and M.G. were still together.

  Probably not. That was the thing about high school relationships. They usually didn’t last, much like mine and Gary’s. But every now and then, there was a relationship that passed the test of adolescence.

  Like Ella and Jesse’s. They were so cute together I almost couldn’t stand it. In a good way. I was happy for her, and Jesse was a good guy. They deserved each other.

  My eyes slid back to Noah and his long, chestnut hair. His strong chin and full lips. He was quiet and serious. Not a loud attention-seeker like so many of the guys at this school.

  My phone buzzed, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  Harper: Help?…

  I tapped back a message.

  Tori: I’ll explain later, but fingers crossed I can get my essay without running home.

  Noah spoke up just as I hit send. “And done. It was right on your USB drive, along with a folder called Ryan Gosling memes.”

  My mouth fell open. “You saw that?”

  Perfect. I forgot I had that on there.

  He chuckled. “Oh yeah. What did you think I was doing the last five minutes?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. Getting my paper?”

  He turned his body toward me and rested his feet on the metal book rack under my desk. “Nope.” There was that signature grin.

  I shook my head but couldn’t help but smile a little.

  He closed his laptop. “Your paper’s in your inbox.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  His smile was still on, but his eyes said something different. I wasn’t sure what.

  “You’re welcome.” He took his laptop in his hands. “You know, I’d normally charge for something like this. You’d be surprised at the money I brought in at my old school.”

  I raised a brow. “Is that what you do on there all the time? People’s homework?”

  “No, not people’s homework,” he said.

  We stood up, and I pulled my book bag on. “Okay, so how much do I owe you?” I asked, ready to pull out some cash.

  He stared back at me, his expression unreadable. “Nothing.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  He smiled. “I know. I want to.”

  There was an awkward pause.

  “Well, maybe there’s something I can do for you,” I said.

  “Maybe,” he said. Then he leaned in slightly, the smirk on his face growing. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Well, we can start with this.” I walked over to the teacher’s desk and opened the drawers. I found just what I was looking for: sticky notes and a pen.

  Noah walked over and watched me scribble on two notes.

  I handed him one and waited for him to read the almost illegible handwriting.

  “You plagiarized a note to class?” He looked up. “For a cheerleader, you sure aren’t afraid to break the rules.”

  I shrugged and headed toward the door. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  He trailed behind me, the note still in his hand. “Won’t the teacher see right through this?”

  I turned back. “You’d be surprised.”

  Noah nodded, impressed.

  As we left, I couldn’t help but feel pretty glad that we were no longer mad at each other.

  Eight

  By the time lunch rolled around, I was at the library again, this time finishing up and printing off my paper for American Lit.

  The printer spit out my paper a few minutes before the bell rang. I grabbed my stuff and headed to class, relief sweeping over me.

  As irritating as I found Noah on the first day I met him, I had to admit he had saved my butt big time. This paper made up a huge chunk of my grade in the class, and if it had been late, it would have really messed up my final grade. Not to mention the fact that I would’ve had to track my mom down, run home, and try to get back in time. All while missing classes and racking up make-up work.

  I stood a few feet from Ms. Holloway’s class. Pulling out my phone and putting down my bag, I settled in with my back to the lockers to wait for the bell.

  A familiar voice interrupted my social media scrolling. “Hey.”

  I looked up. “Hey,” I said, staring back at Gary.

  He stood tall, a green t-shirt covering his broad shoulders. His hair was different, but I didn’t say anything about it.

  “How have you been?” he asked. He leaned on the lockers next to me, and I was acutely aware of how close he was.

  It was hard to believe I went out with him for almost five months las
t year. He seemed like a stranger now. At least, not someone I was interested in being friends with, much less this close to.

  “I’m fine,” I finally replied, going back to my phone and hoping he’d get the hint that I didn’t really want to talk to him. Not after what he’d pulled at Homecoming.

  After a minute, he said, “So, have you got a date to prom yet?”

  My head snapped up. Really? “No. I don’t have a date to prom yet.” I dared him to ask me with the expression on my face.

  He blinked like he still wasn’t sure why I was reacting like this. “Oh. I just thought maybe—”

  “Maybe what, Gary?” I started. “That we could go together, and you could ditch me for someone else at the last minute again?”

  He flinched. “No—it’s just—we were really good together and…”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I made a mistake, that’s all.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Or maybe you just want a better shot at winning prom king, is that it? Well, I’m not interested.”

  The wide-eyed look on his face disappeared in an instant, telling me everything I needed to know. So that’s what this was about. Good old Gary just wanted that crown. Unlike me, he really cared about his level of popularity.

  His expression turned sour, and his eyebrows furrowed in anger. “You think you’re so great, Tori. But you need me just as much I need you. Sooner or later, you’ll see that, and you’ll come back.”

  The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway caught my attention, and I craned my neck to see who it was.

  Noah. He had probably heard everything. It wasn’t like Gary had been discrete.

  I turned back to Gary. “Like I said, thanks but no thanks.”

  Gary turned and left without a second look at me or Noah.

  I had no idea why he thought I was even remotely interested in getting back together with him, especially after Homecoming. Maybe because he was the star quarterback and I was the next head cheerleader, he thought we belonged together. Or that I was like him.

  Noah walked over. “He seems nice.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  I raised a brow. “You have no idea.” I leaned back against the lockers. “Ugh. I can’t believe I used to go out with him.”