good, too. Kinda fruity, like strawberries or watermelon or something.
Too bad she hates me.
Of course, that only makes me want to pick on her all the more.
What is it about this girl?
Ms. Ramirez is handing out our quiz papers from yesterday. The person at the front of each row is supposed to take their own paper and pass the rest back, but when the papers reach Melanie she pauses to shuffle through them.
I can’t pass up the opportunity to harass her a little. Holding out my hand, I waggle my fingers and say, “Hey. Felony Melanie. Any day now.”
When she turns her head to give me a smug smile, I realize that I never should have started in on her again because she still hasn’t cooled down from this morning.
Smirking, she hands me the remainder of the papers. “A forty-six? Wow, Shane. That’s bad even for you. I didn’t even study and I got a ninety-eight. This test was cake . You have seriously got to be the biggest moron I’ve ever encountered in my life.”
And with those spiteful words, she hits me right where it hurts. Loud enough for those sitting around us to hear. Several girls giggle and I can feel the blood rush to my face. There’s nothing more humiliating than having verifiable proof of how stupid you are. Unless it’s someone throwing it out there for everyone to see.
I already hear it at home from my dad. Most of the time he just ignores me, but occasionally when Mom isn’t around to run interference he feels the need to remind me what a disappointment I am.
Why are your grades so lousy? Why do you need money for a field trip when you aren’t even capable of learning anything? Why aren’t you doing this? Why aren’t you doing that? When I was your age, I was blah blabbidy blah…
I’m not sure what makes him think he’s so much smarter than me. He hasn’t had a steady job in over two years and all he does is sit around the house moping and drinking himself into a stupor. Pretty sure it doesn’t take a lot of brains to do that.
Melanie has turned around in her seat and I can’t see her face but I can sense that she’s smiling. And maybe I did deserve that, maybe I shouldn’t blame her for wanting to get back at me after I slammed her the way I did.
But I can’t help but feel like she crossed a line.
And I am super pissed off right now.
Normally I don’t get headaches until later in the afternoon, but I can tell today’s going to suck because I’m developing a powerful migraine already.
~ Chapter Nine ~
I shouldn’t have come with him.
What was I thinking?
Trapped beside Shane in the front seat of his Tahoe, the tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. Or maybe it’s just me who’s tense. He seems perfectly at ease. The long fingers of one hand are tapping the steering wheel in time to some song by Hoobastank, and while he’s singing to himself I can’t help but sneak a few looks his way.
It’s hard not to look at something that sumptuous. He was cute in high school, but as a grown man he’s positively mouthwatering. His hair is pulled neatly back into a long ponytail, and the contrast of the white Ralph Lauren shirt he’s wearing only makes his eyes seem that much darker. Interestingly enough, he actually sings pretty good. Wonder if he’s in a band on the side? I wouldn’t be surprised.
I’m so intent on surreptitiously watching him that I don’t notice we’re in the parking lot of an IHOP until he kills the engine.
“Hungry?” he asks me, unclipping his seatbelt.
Okay…I didn’t realize we were stopping for breakfast, but whatever.
“A little,” I reluctantly admit.
“First rule of shopping. Never do it on an empty stomach,” he advises with a grin.
He opens the door for me as we walk inside, and as he does I feel the other hand against the small of my back. It disturbs me that I get a shiver just from that fleeting casual touch. I really have to stop thinking about last night and remind myself that
Too bad she hates me.
Of course, that only makes me want to pick on her all the more.
What is it about this girl?
Ms. Ramirez is handing out our quiz papers from yesterday. The person at the front of each row is supposed to take their own paper and pass the rest back, but when the papers reach Melanie she pauses to shuffle through them.
I can’t pass up the opportunity to harass her a little. Holding out my hand, I waggle my fingers and say, “Hey. Felony Melanie. Any day now.”
When she turns her head to give me a smug smile, I realize that I never should have started in on her again because she still hasn’t cooled down from this morning.
Smirking, she hands me the remainder of the papers. “A forty-six? Wow, Shane. That’s bad even for you. I didn’t even study and I got a ninety-eight. This test was cake . You have seriously got to be the biggest moron I’ve ever encountered in my life.”
And with those spiteful words, she hits me right where it hurts. Loud enough for those sitting around us to hear. Several girls giggle and I can feel the blood rush to my face. There’s nothing more humiliating than having verifiable proof of how stupid you are. Unless it’s someone throwing it out there for everyone to see.
I already hear it at home from my dad. Most of the time he just ignores me, but occasionally when Mom isn’t around to run interference he feels the need to remind me what a disappointment I am.
Why are your grades so lousy? Why do you need money for a field trip when you aren’t even capable of learning anything? Why aren’t you doing this? Why aren’t you doing that? When I was your age, I was blah blabbidy blah…
I’m not sure what makes him think he’s so much smarter than me. He hasn’t had a steady job in over two years and all he does is sit around the house moping and drinking himself into a stupor. Pretty sure it doesn’t take a lot of brains to do that.
Melanie has turned around in her seat and I can’t see her face but I can sense that she’s smiling. And maybe I did deserve that, maybe I shouldn’t blame her for wanting to get back at me after I slammed her the way I did.
But I can’t help but feel like she crossed a line.
And I am super pissed off right now.
Normally I don’t get headaches until later in the afternoon, but I can tell today’s going to suck because I’m developing a powerful migraine already.
~ Chapter Nine ~
I shouldn’t have come with him.
What was I thinking?
Trapped beside Shane in the front seat of his Tahoe, the tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. Or maybe it’s just me who’s tense. He seems perfectly at ease. The long fingers of one hand are tapping the steering wheel in time to some song by Hoobastank, and while he’s singing to himself I can’t help but sneak a few looks his way.
It’s hard not to look at something that sumptuous. He was cute in high school, but as a grown man he’s positively mouthwatering. His hair is pulled neatly back into a long ponytail, and the contrast of the white Ralph Lauren shirt he’s wearing only makes his eyes seem that much darker. Interestingly enough, he actually sings pretty good. Wonder if he’s in a band on the side? I wouldn’t be surprised.
I’m so intent on surreptitiously watching him that I don’t notice we’re in the parking lot of an IHOP until he kills the engine.
“Hungry?” he asks me, unclipping his seatbelt.
Okay…I didn’t realize we were stopping for breakfast, but whatever.
“A little,” I reluctantly admit.
“First rule of shopping. Never do it on an empty stomach,” he advises with a grin.
He opens the door for me as we walk inside, and as he does I feel the other hand against the small of my back. It disturbs me that I get a shiver just from that fleeting casual touch. I really have to stop thinking about last night and remind myself that
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