Not My Hero

Things at school are better as well. Michael has moved on to looking for trouble with a new girl in school, Monica Romero. He got on Cole Travis’ wrong side because of it, and it seems like he’ll be kicked out of the band. I couldn’t care less.

Sully, on the other hand, still pops up every now and then, but every time he tries to bully me, Colton is there to get rid of him.

Lindy’s still… just Lindy. She’ll make nasty comments to which Colton always has a response. I know I can’t let him keep fighting my battles, but it’s hard to think of a comeback in the heat of the moment.

Walking into my art class, I take my seat and open my sketchpad. I’m working on a picture of Colton and what he looked like on the first day of school. Now that I know him better, I understand why he seemed so angry. He hasn’t spoken much of his brother, Brady, and I’m worried he’s bottling up all his heartache. He’s always so focused on me and solving my problems, and I worry it’s not giving him any time to deal with his own past.

I’ve been trying to think of a way to help him, but I’m at a total loss.

Miss Snow goes to stand in front of the class. “There’s an art competition hosted by the University of Black Mountain. The winner will win five thousand dollars toward their financial aid should they choose to attend an art course there. I’m hoping you’ll all enter.”

All my attention is on Miss Snow because it would help a lot if I could win that money.

“You can use any medium. You can create anything. The deadline is in two weeks. I have entry forms, so come see me if you’re interested in taking part.”

One of the girls raises her hand and asks, “Can we work on it during class?”

Miss Snow nods. “You can. To be fair to those who aren’t entering the competition, I’ll have this project count toward your yearly mark.”

Oh wow. What am I going to draw?

My mind races with so many ideas but none of them stick.

“If you need some ideas, I have a couple,” Miss Snow says, and my eyes dart to her. “You can create something to express a current issue, like global warming or deforestation. Or make something that represents your life or how you feel. As long as you’re passionate about it.”

Honestly, the only thing I’m passionate about is Colton.

I pull an awkward face as I look down at the image of him I’m working on. For now, I carry on with it, needing to complete it before I start with the new project.

I manage to finish the sketch minutes before the bell rings, and gathering my stuff, I walk up to Miss Snow’s desk. “Can I have an entry form, please?”

“Sure. I’m glad you’re taking part. When you have your work ready, bring it to me with the completed form.”

A smile tugs at my lips as I take the paper from her. With my thoughts on what I can work on, I make my way to my history class.

An arm falls around my shoulders, and for a moment, I think it’s Colton, but when I look up, I see that it’s Sully. He grips me tightly. “Where’s your bodyguard?”

I try to shrug his arm off, but he only tightens his hold, letting out a taunting chuckle. “You know, I thought you were a lesbian, Weinstock, but seeing as Lawson’s always hanging onto you, I must’ve been wrong.”

Instead of the usual fear that makes me cower back, anger begins to bubble in my chest, and I try to pull my shoulders free again. Sully doesn’t let go and uses his body to push me up against the wall. When he starts to lower his head, and his lips are inches from mine, my heart almost explodes from my chest.

There’s no way he’s going to be my first kiss!

Bringing both my hands up between us, I push Sully so hard that I actually manage to shove him away from me. “Don’t…” I gulp hard, but then my anger wins over the fear, and I snap, “Don’t touch me.” Darting away from him, I even manage to mutter, “Asshole.”

I stalk into history, still upset that Sully actually tried to kiss me. Slamming my sketchpad down on the desk, I plop down in the chair and scowl.

I just wish Sully would get the damn message and leave me be.

A hand on my shoulder has me instantly yanking away and glaring up at whoever’s bothering me now. When I see Colton, I let out a sigh and slump back in my chair.

The frown on his face has me explaining, “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Like who?” he asks, sitting down at his own desk.