whatever.” I pulled the thick calculus book out of my locker. Next period was study hall and I wanted to get tonight’s homework out of the way. “Maybe you should stop worrying about my love life and concentrate on your own.”
“I think my own is a hopeless case.”
At her dejected tone, I pulled my head out of my locker and turned to see what she was looking at. F arther down the hallway, Staci Sheridan was running one hand up Trent’s chest and smiling coyly at him with her duck-lipped pout. Apparently she assumed the school’s regulations regarding PDA didn’t apply to her.
“How am I supposed to compete with someone who looks like her?” Dana sighed dismally. “Those tits cannot be real. Do they look real to you?”
“ Sure as hell likes to advertise them, doesn’t she?” The amount of cleavage she was displaying was absurd. How did she get around the dress code? She must button up before going into her classes. I thought about Chase, back in Greenville with his recycled piece of ass. Why do girls like that always seem to get whatever they want? And why are guys stupid enough to fall for it? “If he’s dumb enough to want that , then you’re better off without him. Trust me.”
“I know.” She didn’t sound convinced though.
I put an arm around her and squeezed. “She’s the one who couldn’t compete with you. You’re a natural beauty. She’s as fake as a store mannequin. I bet if Trent ever saw her without makeup he’d puke first and then run away screaming in horror.”
“ Hm. I like that image.” She perked up at the thought.
The bell rang then, and I slammed my locker shut. “Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to study hall I go .”
“See ya in sixth period.”
During study hall I got a text from her: Just heard Trent and Staci are together. :/
“Damn,” I sighed. Another one bites the dust.
5
The next two days could almost have been copied and pasted from the pages of the previous two. Other than ballet class on Wednesday, not much was noticeably different. School was…well, just school. It didn’t take long to settle into a comfortable routine there.
Rob still barely acknowledged me, but at least he no longer bit my head off if I dared to speak to him. I suppose you could call that progress.
When I got home Thursday afternoon, Dad was there. He was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep. I tried to cover him with a throw blanket without waking him, but he opened one eye and peered up at me anyway.
“Mm…hey there, ladybug,” he mumbled, struggling to sit up while stretching at the same time. “School out already?”
“ It’s nearly four. How long have you been asleep?”
“Since about …I don’t know, eleven.” Yawning, he raked a hand through thick hair the same coffee-colored shade of brown as mine. “So tell me about your week. You didn’t say very much when I called you the other night. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“How’s school?”
“ Pretty good. Not crazy about calculus, but you know me - I hate math in general. Mr. Weston loves to give a lot of homework too.”
“I assume this is the point where I’m supposed to supply one of those little parent witticisms about homework building character?” Dad propped his feet on the coffee table with a grin.
“Spare me. I don’t need any more character.”
“Rob at practice?”
“ As far as I know.”
“How are the two of you getting along?”
I hesitated. “All right, I guess. We don’t really talk much.”
“Correction - he doesn’t talk much. You talk enough for the both of you and then some.”
I shrugged. “Hey, it’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.”
“Feel like going out to eat tonight?”
“No…you’re tired. I was planning on making dinner for you tonight anyway. How does spaghetti sound?”
“ Sounds like I need to increase your spending limit,” he joked.
“You wouldn’t hear me complaining!”
Rob still wasn’t back
“I think my own is a hopeless case.”
At her dejected tone, I pulled my head out of my locker and turned to see what she was looking at. F arther down the hallway, Staci Sheridan was running one hand up Trent’s chest and smiling coyly at him with her duck-lipped pout. Apparently she assumed the school’s regulations regarding PDA didn’t apply to her.
“How am I supposed to compete with someone who looks like her?” Dana sighed dismally. “Those tits cannot be real. Do they look real to you?”
“ Sure as hell likes to advertise them, doesn’t she?” The amount of cleavage she was displaying was absurd. How did she get around the dress code? She must button up before going into her classes. I thought about Chase, back in Greenville with his recycled piece of ass. Why do girls like that always seem to get whatever they want? And why are guys stupid enough to fall for it? “If he’s dumb enough to want that , then you’re better off without him. Trust me.”
“I know.” She didn’t sound convinced though.
I put an arm around her and squeezed. “She’s the one who couldn’t compete with you. You’re a natural beauty. She’s as fake as a store mannequin. I bet if Trent ever saw her without makeup he’d puke first and then run away screaming in horror.”
“ Hm. I like that image.” She perked up at the thought.
The bell rang then, and I slammed my locker shut. “Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to study hall I go .”
“See ya in sixth period.”
During study hall I got a text from her: Just heard Trent and Staci are together. :/
“Damn,” I sighed. Another one bites the dust.
5
The next two days could almost have been copied and pasted from the pages of the previous two. Other than ballet class on Wednesday, not much was noticeably different. School was…well, just school. It didn’t take long to settle into a comfortable routine there.
Rob still barely acknowledged me, but at least he no longer bit my head off if I dared to speak to him. I suppose you could call that progress.
When I got home Thursday afternoon, Dad was there. He was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep. I tried to cover him with a throw blanket without waking him, but he opened one eye and peered up at me anyway.
“Mm…hey there, ladybug,” he mumbled, struggling to sit up while stretching at the same time. “School out already?”
“ It’s nearly four. How long have you been asleep?”
“Since about …I don’t know, eleven.” Yawning, he raked a hand through thick hair the same coffee-colored shade of brown as mine. “So tell me about your week. You didn’t say very much when I called you the other night. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“How’s school?”
“ Pretty good. Not crazy about calculus, but you know me - I hate math in general. Mr. Weston loves to give a lot of homework too.”
“I assume this is the point where I’m supposed to supply one of those little parent witticisms about homework building character?” Dad propped his feet on the coffee table with a grin.
“Spare me. I don’t need any more character.”
“Rob at practice?”
“ As far as I know.”
“How are the two of you getting along?”
I hesitated. “All right, I guess. We don’t really talk much.”
“Correction - he doesn’t talk much. You talk enough for the both of you and then some.”
I shrugged. “Hey, it’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.”
“Feel like going out to eat tonight?”
“No…you’re tired. I was planning on making dinner for you tonight anyway. How does spaghetti sound?”
“ Sounds like I need to increase your spending limit,” he joked.
“You wouldn’t hear me complaining!”
Rob still wasn’t back
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