Chapter Fourteen
Juliet
Days and weeks melted into one another. Roman and I were inseparable. We never had as much time together as we wanted but the moments we shared were intense.
Half the time we ended up making out in the park, other times we stole a few moments in the photography lab. Mr. Broom seemed oblivious, which worked in our favor.
Roman somehow had his gym class switched to mine. The days the boys and girls were grouped together were my favorite.
Even if it was something idiotic like teaching us ballroom dancing. We lived in a poor, rural area. The likelihood of anyone in this class ever using ballroom dancing skills was pretty slim.
It might have been a silly, frivolous thing to teach us, but I secretly loved the lessons. Especially the way Roman made it clear to every boy in our class that I was off-limits. And the step away stare he shot at every girl who approached him to be their dance partner.
Yeah, his new-guy-with-the-violent-temper reputation commanded the interest of every single girl in our school. They seemed to be caught up in some fantasy of “fixing” the bad boy.
Only I knew the truth. Roman wasn’t bad. He was angry—but he had plenty of valid reasons for that rage. He didn’t need fixing, he needed someone to see his goodness.
I was happy to be that someone.
“Lift your head, Juliet,” the teacher shouted. “Feel where he leads.”
“I feel where you lead all the time,” I mumbled.
Roman rumbled with laughter. I loved making him laugh and seemed to be the only person capable of teasing a genuine smile onto his oh-so-serious face. Occasionally, some wacky thing that came out of Vienna’s mouth would make him chuckle, and I loved those moments too.
We truly understood each other. He laughed at my jokes, no matter how random they seemed. Roman was the first person who truly got my quirky sense of humor and appreciated it instead of thinking I was a weirdo.
“Sometimes I’m not sure who leads who.” Roman winked and spun me around.
That was ridiculous. I was so under his spell, it wasn’t funny. He pulled me in and I pressed myself against his chest for a brief moment—even though we were supposed to remain at arm’s length.
Besides giving me an opportunity to publicly touch my boyfriend for a solid forty-five minutes without fear of getting in trouble, the dance lessons were great because we didn’t have to change into our dorky, inappropriately sized gym uniforms. Today, I’d worn a short, floaty chiffon dress Vienna had given me for Christmas. It was frilly, with layers that fanned out each time Roman spun me around, making me feel like a modern fairy-tale princess.
Class finished and Roman gave me a quick peck on the lips before I dashed off to the locker room with Vienna. I didn’t need to change, but I did need to collect my backpack for our next class.
“Girl, the way that boy looks at you,” Vienna sighed. “Gives me goosebumps.”
“He’s kinda ew. Like doesn’t he live in a detention center or something?” One of my cattier classmates—Diane—said without looking at me.
“You didn’t seem to think he was ew when you asked him to take you to prom,” I said sweetly. As if the whole school hadn’t been talking about the way Roman flatly turned her down.
Vienna laughed and slammed her locker shut. “Don’t be such a bitter bitch, Diane, it’ll give you wrinkles.”
More nastiness came out of Diane, but I’d stopped caring about what my shallow classmates thought of me a long time ago.
I grabbed my stuff and hugged Vienna before taking off to meet up with Roman.
Except he wasn’t in the hallway waiting for me like he normally was.
A sick feeling settled in my stomach.
Doug and his friends had been increasing the verbal attacks on Roman whenever they could get away with it. So far, Roman ignored the insults, but I didn’t doubt if one of them laid a hand on him, they might not get it back.
Finally, he emerged from the gym, smiling when he saw me. A whoosh of relief passed my lips and I took his outstretched hand. “Were you waiting long?”
“Is everything okay?” I blurted instead of answering his question.
“Mr. Dawson wanted to talk to me about trying out for baseball.”
“Isn’t it too late in the season?”
He shrugged. “They’re down a player. I know zip about baseball, except that it looks boring as fuck.”
“I hope you didn’t say that to him.” I snort-giggled and covered my mouth.
“Nah, I just said I didn’t have time and I don’t think I could get permission from Pine Bluff.” He peered down at me. “Would you rather be dating a baseball player?”
I almost laughed again. As if any other boy in this school could compare to Roman. Yet, I sensed a hint of seriousness in his voice and wanted to reassure him. “Only if it’s you.”