“Well screw them,” I almost shout, angry that anyone could judge someone based on who they’re attracted to.
“Amen to that.” He holds up his juice and gestures to my water. It takes me a minute to realize what he’s doing before I quickly grab the bottle. “To new friends.” He smiles, his dimple popping out on his right cheek.
“To new friends.” I tap my bottle against his, feeling more at ease than I have in weeks.
We spend the rest of the lunch period chit chatting about nothing of any real importance. We laugh and joke and by the end of the half hour you would think we had been friends forever.
He walked me to my sixth period class and we exchanged numbers before he had to take off to get to his own. Feeling more comfortable, there’s a small skip in my step as I make my way into English. Unfortunately, my good mood instantly disappears when I spot Zayden sitting in the back of the classroom.
Great.
The lighthearted feeling that had flowed through me only moments ago is instantly replaced with a heavy dread in the pit of my stomach. And here I was beginning to think that this day might actually end on a high note.
I swiftly force my eyes in another direction, holding my head high as I make my way to an empty seat at the front of the class. I dig into my bag for a notebook and pencil, sliding them onto my desk right as the teacher enters the classroom.
Because this is my first day, and I’m starting each class over four months behind, I’ve spent most of the day taking notes of the things I need to catch up on. Luckily, a lot of things they are teaching are the same at Bristol, so it hasn’t been too overwhelming up to this point.
Mr. McHenry takes a seat behind a large brown desk that bares the marks of use. Straightening his posture, his eyes go directly to me as the class starts to fall silent.
“It appears we have a new student with us today,” Mr. McHenry starts, and my stomach doubles over on itself into a fury of nerves. I hate being the center of everyone’s focus. So far, I’d been lucky and no other teacher had even commented on the fact that there was a new student in attendance. “Miss Harper, I believe.” He waits for my confirmation before continuing, “Why don’t you stand up and tell us a couple things about yourself.”
The knots in my stomach tighten, and my knees tremble slightly as I stand. I’m not sure what’s worse, having to stand up in front of a room full of complete strangers or the fact that I have to stand up in front of him.
“I’m Rylee,” I say, throwing in an awkward wave as my eyes stay glued to the teacher.
“Why don’t you turn around and address the room, Rylee?” he offers, gesturing to the classmates behind me.
If looks could kill, poor Mr. McHenry would be laying in a heap on the floor right now. But, being the good student that I am, I do as I’m told, looking anywhere but at the ocean blue eyes I know are watching me. I can feel the heat of his stare like a match being held too close to my face.
“Hi, I’m Rylee,” I start again, my gaze bouncing around the classroom full of strangers. “I’m eighteen years old. And I just transferred from Bristol High.” Thinking that is enough, I start to turn back around, but Mr. McHenry stops me in my tracks.
“What’s something you can tell us that will help us get to know you a little better?”
I take a sharp breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth, trying to appear confident and collected when I feel anything but.
“Um…,” I stutter out, trying to come up with something to say. “I love old TV shows like I Love Lucy and Bewitched, and I have a serious girl crush on Taylor Swift.”
A few giggles sound around the room, and I fear that maybe they don’t understand my humor. But then a red-headed girl at the back of the class pumps her fist in the air and says, “Preach girl,” making me relax a little.
“I plan to attend Seattle University in the fall, pre-med, and my favorite kind of ice cream is rocky road.” I make the mistake of looking at the one person I’m trying to avoid looking at. Our eyes lock, and I swear I lose all sense of my surroundings. Everything fades to the background. Everything but the way my heart pounds heavily in my chest and my breathing comes in short quick spurts like my lungs can’t figure out how to pull in a proper breath.
I can’t read his expression. A mixture of amusement and anger dance behind those brilliant eyes of his, but I can’t figure out which one is more prominent. All I know for sure is that Zayden Michaels is one intimidating guy. And for whatever reason, I’m intrigued.
The sound of chair legs scratching against the tile floor snaps me back to the present, and I turn to see Mr. McHenry stand.
“Thank you for that, Miss Harper.” He nods, and I quickly move to reclaim my seat. “Now, as I told you all before winter break, our next assignment will be breaking down the difference between novel and film. Each of you had the opportunity to nominate a title for consideration. After much discussion with the school board, we settled on a title we feel is both current to today’s youth and appropriate for classroom discussion. Anyone want to guess what it m
ight be?” He looks around the room.
“Fifty Shades,” a student calls, and the room breaks into soft murmurs and laughter.
“You wish, Miss Tenley.” He shakes his head, sliding the square rimmed glasses from his face. “Someone else care to make a guess.” He holds up his hand before the girl can speak again. “Someone other than Miss Tenley.” He smiles.
“Harry Potter?” one student guesses.
“The Notebook?” says another.
“You’re getting warmer. Anyone else?”