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W
as it karma that kept dropping Kyle Blake in my path? That was the second time I’d nearly knocked her over in one week. I felt bad about it, mostly because she had a difficult time walking, but I couldn’t bring myself to not be a bitch about everything. If people saw me get soft, things would go back to the way they’d been in middle school and I would die before I let that happen.

So I let her think I was an asshole. I let everyone think that. Hell, I encouraged it. People didn’t mess with a bitch. They steered clear of her. They didn’t spend their time trying to knock her down and make her suffer. My exterior was steel, topped with razor wire. Come at me and you are going to get cut.

Anyway, I stepped away from her, but not before I got a weird vibe. Like, she was staring at me in a way that she hadn’t before. If I didn’t know better.

Yeah, no. She was definitely into guys. I’d heard her talk with her friend Grace (another person who didn’t take shit from anyone, which I actually admired) about the hot football players and so forth and I was pretty sure she’d had a few boyfriends.

She was kinda cute though. Had that nerdy thing going on with the glasses, and she could do a messy bun that I envied. Ugh, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to go after anyone here. College. Just wait until college.

W
e won the game and afterwards the cheer team went out for pizza. There was a party at Maria’s house and since I didn’t have anything better to do and the whole squad was going, I went.

It was pretty typical. A bunch of us in the huge basement of her parent’s house, some smuggled alcohol, and crappy music. I tried to let go and have a good time, but I couldn’t seem to do it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Midori asked me as I sipped a weak wine cooler. I never got plastered at these things because I didn’t see the point. Not that I hadn’t been wasted before, but the experience had not been enjoyable and I didn’t want to repeat it.

I didn’t answer as I watched Destiny Cook tangle her tongue with Brett Forrester’s. Gross. I made a face and looked back at Midori. Her brown eyes were studying me in a way I didn’t like.

“Nothing,” I said, shrugging one shoulder and sitting next to her on the leather couch that had seen better days.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t buy that,” she said, leaning back. I was saved from having to answer her by a totally bombed Brian Sharpe trying to hit on her and Midori shooting him down. And cursing at him in Japanese until he went away.

She turned her attention back to me and I tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. She’d never said anything about me, never asked, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t know. I had the sneaking suspicion she did. But she was too much of a good friend to put me on the spot like that.

“So?” she said.

“Just not feeling it tonight. Got a lot on my mind. Dad made me sign up for AP English. I have to start on Monday.” I made a face. I had a ton of homework this weekend to catch up on everything I’d missed in the first few weeks of school. It was going to take me several days to get it all done and I wasn’t looking forward to it. But I’d suck it up because next weekend Dad was taking me car shopping and I couldn’t wait. My car was making a weird grinding noise and I was hoping it would hold out until then.

“That blows.” I nodded and she didn’t push further. We left early, before things got really out of hand.

“Call me if you need a break or anything,” she said when I dropped her off.

“Will do,” I said and then headed home. Dad was already in bed, but I went to say goodnight to him.

“Did you witness massive amounts of debauchery?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The usual. It was pretty boring, actually. I’m tired.” He kissed my cheek and I went to take a shower before crawling between fresh sheets.

I closed my eyes and sighed. It had been a long day and it was going to be a long weekend. I let my mind wander away from the stress and toward something much more pleasant. Smiles and soft skin and laughter. The stress of the day evaporated and I felt my shoulders relax.

Freedom.

I
made sure I had my resting bitchface fully activated before I stepped into the AP English classroom on Monday. Still, a few people looked up and whispered to each other.

“Oh, hello, Stella,” Mr. Hurley said. I’d had him my freshman year for English, so at least I didn’t have to worry about dealing with a new teacher. I handed him all the makeup work and he gave me a smile. He reminded me a lot of my dad, only he was a few years younger and a little less put together. His glasses were always a little askew and his sweaters usually had at least one hole by the cuffs or the hem.

“Well, you were busy,” he said, licking his thumb and then flipping through the pages of essays and handouts I’d nearly killed myself to get done this weekend.

I didn’t answer him.

“And you got all the books for this semester?” he asked. I nodded and pulled my copy of
Jane Eyre
out of my bag. It was a worn copy that Dad had given me. I’d read it a few times already. Having an English teacher as a father was a literature class in itself. I’d already devoured most of the required reading list in my younger years and had copies of all of the books at my disposal.

“Great, why don’t you take a seat and we’ll get started.” I turned and looked around. I wasn’t friendly with any of the people in this room and as fate would have it, there was only one open seat near the door. Right next to Kyle Blake.

She was doing her best not to look at me, keeping her eyes on the surface of her desk, tracing a pattern with one finger over and over. I heaved a sigh and sat down next to her. She didn’t acknowledge me and Mr. Hurley got class started a second later.

“Okay, so we start
Jane Eyre
this week,” he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as if he’d announced we were going to Disney World. God, he was like my dad. I smiled a little to myself and looked to my left. Kyle had been looking at me. She quickly fixed her eyes back on the front of the class and her cheeks went red.

Weird. I looked back at Mr. Hurley just as he announced that we’d be pairing up to discuss the first three chapters of
Jane Eyre
and filling out a worksheet with our partner. And he pointed to me and Kyle to pair up.

I almost sighed again, but restrained myself. I slowly turned to face her, and she didn’t look happy about it either. Mr. Hurley handed out the worksheets and I grabbed it first. Never rely on someone else to do the work in a group project.

“Okay, did you do the reading?” I asked, scanning the questions. They weren’t too hard. Just basic information. I could answer all of them by myself, which was good.

“Um, yeah,” she said, flipping through her book. The spine was worn and there was some clear tape holding it together. Huh. It was probably one of the school’s crappy copies and not a personal copy.

“What are you doing in this class?” she asked as she chewed on her bottom lip and pushed her glasses further up her nose. Had she always had green eyes? I didn’t think I’d ever noticed them before. The glasses somehow hid them.

“I transferred,” I snapped, starting to work on the first question.

“Hey, what are you writing?” She reached for the paper, but I jerked it away.

“I’m answering the questions. My father is an English teacher. I could do this in my sleep.” She gave me a skeptical look and I glared back. This was going so well.

“Well, we’re supposed to be doing it together.” She waved her hand to indicate the other pairs who had pushed their desks together and were talking.

“Fine,” I said, getting up and dragging my desk closer to hers. “Happy?”

For a second I thought she was going to laugh, but she just grabbed the paper out of my hand and put it on her desk, sliding it over so we could both see it.

“There. Okay, so what do you think for the first one?” She bent her head over the paper and I swallowed and leaned closer. I’d never been this close to her and I could just barely smell her perfume. It was like a mix of coconut and vanilla. Like dessert. I tried not to think about it.

She started talking, but I wasn’t really listening. I blinked a few times.

“Wait, what?” She gave me a confused look and repeated herself. She pushed her glasses up again and I wondered if it was a nervous habit. They were black plastic frames, but they totally worked for her.

I forced my eyes back on the paper and slowly but surely, we got through the worksheet. I was so relieved when Mr. Hurley asked for us to pass them in and I could move my desk back to where it was supposed to be. But then he made us have a group discussion, which meant moving the desks again into a lopsided circle.

Kyle was having a bit of difficulty getting her desk flipped around so I just grabbed it and did it for her. Instead of getting a “thank you,” she looked pissed before slumping into her seat, jaw clenched.

What the hell did I do?

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said through clenched teeth. I couldn’t figure out why she was mad, but I had to admit, she was kinda hot when she was pissed. She had an amazing jawline.

Mr. Hurley cleared his throat and I had to shove my head back into the discussion so I didn’t sound like an idiot.

K
yle didn’t look in my direction for the rest of class and when it was time to move our desks back, I just went ahead and let her do it, putting my stuff in my bag and leaving without another word.