***
I grinned when I read her text. There wasn’t a look, I typed back. Then why are your cheeks red? Muriel puffed her cheeks out at me. Shut up! I typed and dropped my phone in my bag. She laughed out loud, earning a glare from our calculus teacher.
I sighed when I turned the corner to my English class. He was waiting for me outside the door. Joe. I guess he had a crush on me. He always walked with me when our classes were near each other, and he parked his car conveniently next to mine, or Muriel’s if I rode with her, so he could walk into school with me. And he taped little drawings on my locker door. He was a great artist, but still.
Then there was the thing. The thing I dreaded, but happened every week. My hands started sweating and my stomach roiled when I looked at him—I knew it was coming. I hated it because I hated what I had to do. I didn’t want to hurt Joe’s feelings. He was a really nice guy, but I didn’t find him the least bit attractive or interesting with his mousy-brown hair, too-big glasses, and his constant prattle about the AV club.
“Hey, Milayna.” Joe smiled when he saw me, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger. I smiled back and stifled a groan.
“Hi, Joe.” I tried to blend in with a group of students walking into class and brush past him before he asked me the inevitable question.
“Hey, wait up,” he called.
I stopped just inside the doorway, sighed, and then walked back to where he stood, with his shoulder leaned against the lockers lining the wall. “What’s up?” I twisted my pencil in my fingers.
“You look pretty today. I like it when you wear your hair down and all… all… red and curly.”
“Um, thanks.” I shifted and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
That’s good since my hair is red and curly.
“I was wondering…”
Oh no, here comes the thing. Please don’t ask me again. I squeezed the strap of my messenger bag so tightly my fingers ached. There’s only so many ways I can say no without being mean.
“…if you wanted to go out to a movie this weekend?” Joe reached out and put his warm, sweaty hand on my arm.
And there it is.
I sighed and moved my arm to push my hair behind my ear, so he had to pull his hand away. “Joe—” I started when movement caught my attention.
The hottie from calculus walked up beside me. “Hey, there you are.” He stood beside me, at least a head taller, his muscles flexing under his white T-shirt, which clung to him in just the right way as to hint at what lay beneath. His arm brushed against mine, and the unintentional touch was enough to send my nerves crackling. “I saved you a seat.” He winked.
What is he talking about?
“Thanks.” I turned back to Joe. “Uh, Joe, I can’t this weekend. Sorry,” I told him, my voice soft.
“Maybe another time?” He gave me a tight smile before looking the hottie up and down with narrowed eyes.
The so-hot-he-could-be-an-underwear-model guy from calculus gave Joe a friendly slap on the back. “I don’t think so, buddy.”
“Oh. Okay.” Joe looked between me and the tall, dark-haired guy, blowing out a breath. “See ya around, Milayna.” Joe turned and was swallowed up by the current of people rushing from one class to the next.
“‘Bye.” I turned, looking at the guy who saved me from Joe, and was sucked in by his marbled, blue-green eyes. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I’m tired of watching you try to turn him down without hurting his feelings. Better just to be done with it.” He turned away, and I fumbled for something to say to keep him from leaving.
“I’m Milayna. You’re Chay, right?”
He nodded once. “Be careful. They’re here for you,” he murmured over his shoulder before he slipped into the classroom.
“Wait! What are you talking about?”
What the hell kind of freaky thing to say and then just walk away.
I watched the clock tick the seconds off one by one. As soon as the bell rang, I was going to tackle him. My body wanted to tackle him for a totally different reason than my mind, but my mind won out—I wanted information.
When the bell rang, Chay swiped his books off his desk and slipped out of the door. I ran out of the classroom to catch him, but he’d already disappeared into the hoard of students.
***
“Where do you want to go first?” Muriel asked as we drove to the mall after school, looking over at me from the driver’s seat of her car.
“I dunno.” I typed out a quick text to my mom, letting her know I was going to the mall.
“Food court?”
“Yeah, I could go for a soft pretzel.” As if on cue, my stomach growled.
“Food court it is,” Muriel said and pushed up her sunglasses. “Guess what I heard about…”