“I’m just saying, Ms. Neal,” said a guy’s voice from the back of the class. “It’s not really fair. I mean, isn’t it considered cheating when you can just ask a ghost for the answers?”
“Nah, man,” another guy answered. “It’s her dad who has all the answers… he’s in good with Washington, Jefferson, Franklin…”
“Hey, maybe someone should ask him if he’s seen Pac and Biggie,” someone else added.
More laughter.
I turned my attention back to doodling, resisting the urge to roll my eyes again. The jokes had gotten old a while ago, but, apparently, the troglodytes in my class still found them hilarious. I’d already prepared myself to have them follow me to graduation, and with only one year left, I’d grown numb to it.
Thankfully, the bell rang, ending both class and the school day. Without waiting to be dismissed, people began to stand, grabbing their books and dashing for the exit. Since the school year was ending next week, students at Wellhollow Springs High were rowdier than usual and chomping at the bit to be free.
“You three, stay,” Ms. Neal said, her voice holding a steely edge as she eyed the boys who had attempted to embarrass me during class.
I didn’t even bother looking back to see who they were, shoving my notebook into my bag and slinging it over one shoulder. Stepping out into the hall, I made a beeline for the nearest exit, skipping my locker in favor of leaving this place behind. I had everything I needed to study for finals over the weekend, anyway.
Squinting against the high afternoon sun, I rounded the building for the rows of bike racks situated near the front of campus. All around me, the sounds of cranking cars, laughter and conversation, and the sputter of school buses filled the air. I dodged a few people walking toward me on the sidewalk, beads of sweat already starting to well up on my forehead. You could tell summer was coming to Georgia by the heat turning the outdoors into an oven, and the humidity causing the air to feel sticky and moist. Pausing near my bike, I reached into my bag and retrieved a rubber band, taking a moment to pile my thick, kinky dark curls into a topknot. Sighing with relief, I began climbing onto the bike when the sound of my name being called caused me to hesitate.
“Bellamy, wait up,” a boy called, breaking into a trot to catch up to me.
Lincoln Burns—football star, arrogant man’s man, and all around meathead. His black hair, dark eyes, suntanned skin, and large, muscled build should have made him attractive. Unfortunately, a sense of self-importance translated into a mouth that was a bit too pouty, while acne undoubtedly caused by steroid use stole focus away from everything else.
Huffing, I blew a few stray curls away from my forehead and braced myself for the inevitable.
“Lincoln,” I said once he’d come to a stop, conveniently blocking my path.
Gripping my handlebars with his meaty fists, he leaned toward me. “Have you given any thought to my offer?”
Clenching my jaw, I bit back a sarcastic remark. “No, because I thought I’d been pretty clear before. I appreciate you asking me to the Founder’s Day ball, but like I said, I don’t intend to go, so… maybe you should ask someone else.”
He scoffed, as if what I’d said was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “I know you weren’t planning to go, but that was before I asked you to be my date.”
How typical.
“Listen,” I said, talking slowly to ensure he heard every word. “I’m not interested in being the butt of whatever little joke you and your friends have up your sleeve.”
Giving my handlebars a tug, he forced me closer, now practically straddling my front tire. “Baby, it’s not like that, and you know it. There wasn’t a joke when we went out the first time. Why would you think that now? I thought we had fun.”
I fought to regain control of my bike, but he wasn’t taking the hint. “You had fun,” I reminded him. “I got felt up at the movies, then treated to your pouting and sulking the rest of the night when I pushed you away.”
He laughed, but the sound was humorless. There was a gleam in his eye I didn’t like, as if turning him down had sparked some sort of rage in him.
“I apologized for that a bunch of times,” he growled, his voice low. “When are you going to let it go?”
Tilting my head at him, I refused to be intimidated. “When you back off. Now, let go. I have to get to work.”
Releasing my handlebars, he remained close enough that I still couldn’t get away. “You won’t avoid me forever. It’s not like anyone else in town will give you the time of day.”
“I don’t know whether to be insulted or relieved,” I snapped, rolling forward and forcing him to back up. “Why don’t you go club some other girl over the head and drag her back to your cave? I’m not interested.”
He was red-faced and practically huffing smoke, hands balled into fists at his side.
“You might want to lay off the needle,” I told him before pedaling away. “I’ve heard it shrinks the ‘nads.”
Increasing my pace, I left him behind, pedaling toward the road that would take me on the short ride to town. Lincoln didn’t scare me, despite his bravado and the ‘roid rage that made itself apparent whenever things didn’t go his way. He was more like an annoying gnat than anything else—always buzzing around and getting back in my face no matter how many times I swatted him away.
I would regret agreeing to go out on a date with him for the rest of my life. I’d decided to see a movie with him, trying to be open-minded. I didn’t like it when people made assumptions about me, so I’d tried my best not to peg Lincoln as a stupid jock when
