new job tonight. But maybe we could hang out this weekend.”
He grinned. “I’m booked solid this weekend. My girlfriend will be here.”
“Girlfriend?” I asked with a crunched brow.
“Yeah, Sabrina. She lives near Chicago but her family owns a second home here. They usually use it all summer but only every other weekend in the off-season. She’ll be here this weekend.”
“Oh, cool,” I said. I picked up my tray as an awkward pause lingered between us. “Maybe I’ll go home and see the family this weekend. My mom will probably expect it,” I lied.
“Oh?” he asked as he followed me toward the trash cans. “Did you get kicked out of school there or something?”
After I emptied my tray in the trash, I placed it on a rack. “Something like that,” I said with a faint smile. “I need to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.”
As I took my seat in Creative Writing, I wondered what sort of mood Fin would be in when he got there. Had I embarrassed him? I hadn’t honestly wanted to do that but then he did push me a little too far. And I wasn’t going to take that – not at all.
He didn’t show until seconds before the bell rang and he merely dropped into his seat without a word. Mr. Ellis started class by collecting our papers, all the while talking about what we would work on that week.
“I don’t see enough feeling in your work,” he explained as he piled our papers on his desk. “Too many times I see sentences such as ‘She felt bad’ or ‘He was mad’. I’d like to see a little more expressiveness from you all. This isn’t a basic English class, you know. I expect better from you.”
Several eyes rolled as mouths groaned. I remained neutral – frozen in my seat. I agreed with the man, actually, but I didn’t convey my feelings. I definitely didn’t want to be singled out.
After a long lecture on expres sing one’s self while writing, Mr. Ellis gave us a short exercise to work on at our desks. I thankfully started scribbling in my notebook, eager to have an excuse to not look at Fin. I’d caught a glance or two during the lecture and it had ticked me off. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Why did I have to look at him back?
And why did this stupid nonsense bother me so much?
When the bell rang, I stood and turned my back to him, hoping he’d get the hint that I didn’t want to talk. I gathered my things and bolted out of the class, hurrying so fast that I was the first one to Study Hall.
Gina and her friends entered a full two minutes before the bell – surprisingly. Not so surprisingly, she sauntered to my desk and planted her palms on the flat surface.
“Fin doesn’t like you, you know,” she said.
“Good,” I said. “Maybe he’ll leave me alone and quit talking to me.”
Her eyes grew as she straightened. “He only talks to you because he feels sorry for you.”
“Well, I don’t need his sympathy or his conversation.”
“You should tell him,” she said, her tone suddenly sugar-sweet. “Then he’ll leave you alone.”
“I have,” I said as I withdrew my Spanish notebook from my bag. “It’s like talking to the stupid ice he adores so much.” I had to grin at my own joke.
Gina didn’t find it amusing, though. “Try harder.”
“Look,” I said, standing to face her. I was not about to be bullied. “If you like the guy so much, then just tell him. Ask him out. This isn’t the Dark Ages.”
“I don’t ask boys out,” she announced, haughtily tossing her hair over her shoulders. “They ask me out.”
“Not all of them, obviously,” I said. “Fin doesn’t.”
Her pretty eyes narrowed as her face cooled. “But he will.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed to her desk as the bell rang. I shook my head as I slipped into my seat. I worked on my Spanish homework the entire hour as Gina and her friends gasped, sighed, and giggled a few feet away
He grinned. “I’m booked solid this weekend. My girlfriend will be here.”
“Girlfriend?” I asked with a crunched brow.
“Yeah, Sabrina. She lives near Chicago but her family owns a second home here. They usually use it all summer but only every other weekend in the off-season. She’ll be here this weekend.”
“Oh, cool,” I said. I picked up my tray as an awkward pause lingered between us. “Maybe I’ll go home and see the family this weekend. My mom will probably expect it,” I lied.
“Oh?” he asked as he followed me toward the trash cans. “Did you get kicked out of school there or something?”
After I emptied my tray in the trash, I placed it on a rack. “Something like that,” I said with a faint smile. “I need to get to class. I’ll talk to you later.”
As I took my seat in Creative Writing, I wondered what sort of mood Fin would be in when he got there. Had I embarrassed him? I hadn’t honestly wanted to do that but then he did push me a little too far. And I wasn’t going to take that – not at all.
He didn’t show until seconds before the bell rang and he merely dropped into his seat without a word. Mr. Ellis started class by collecting our papers, all the while talking about what we would work on that week.
“I don’t see enough feeling in your work,” he explained as he piled our papers on his desk. “Too many times I see sentences such as ‘She felt bad’ or ‘He was mad’. I’d like to see a little more expressiveness from you all. This isn’t a basic English class, you know. I expect better from you.”
Several eyes rolled as mouths groaned. I remained neutral – frozen in my seat. I agreed with the man, actually, but I didn’t convey my feelings. I definitely didn’t want to be singled out.
After a long lecture on expres sing one’s self while writing, Mr. Ellis gave us a short exercise to work on at our desks. I thankfully started scribbling in my notebook, eager to have an excuse to not look at Fin. I’d caught a glance or two during the lecture and it had ticked me off. Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Why did I have to look at him back?
And why did this stupid nonsense bother me so much?
When the bell rang, I stood and turned my back to him, hoping he’d get the hint that I didn’t want to talk. I gathered my things and bolted out of the class, hurrying so fast that I was the first one to Study Hall.
Gina and her friends entered a full two minutes before the bell – surprisingly. Not so surprisingly, she sauntered to my desk and planted her palms on the flat surface.
“Fin doesn’t like you, you know,” she said.
“Good,” I said. “Maybe he’ll leave me alone and quit talking to me.”
Her eyes grew as she straightened. “He only talks to you because he feels sorry for you.”
“Well, I don’t need his sympathy or his conversation.”
“You should tell him,” she said, her tone suddenly sugar-sweet. “Then he’ll leave you alone.”
“I have,” I said as I withdrew my Spanish notebook from my bag. “It’s like talking to the stupid ice he adores so much.” I had to grin at my own joke.
Gina didn’t find it amusing, though. “Try harder.”
“Look,” I said, standing to face her. I was not about to be bullied. “If you like the guy so much, then just tell him. Ask him out. This isn’t the Dark Ages.”
“I don’t ask boys out,” she announced, haughtily tossing her hair over her shoulders. “They ask me out.”
“Not all of them, obviously,” I said. “Fin doesn’t.”
Her pretty eyes narrowed as her face cooled. “But he will.”
Spinning on her heel, she headed to her desk as the bell rang. I shook my head as I slipped into my seat. I worked on my Spanish homework the entire hour as Gina and her friends gasped, sighed, and giggled a few feet away
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