While I should be offended by that, I’m more concerned about his usage of the word dating.
“First of all, we weren’t even teenagers yet,” I state in a matter-of-fact way, “so it’s not like we were really dating. And secondly, I’m not snappy. I just happen to have zero tolerance for things, or people, that annoy me.”
“You weren’t as uptight either,” he notes with a thoughtful look, “so weird.”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t as rude,” I shoot back. I then proceed to motion behind me. “Now can we just get this over with already?”
He has the nerve to smirk. “Lead the way, my little tour guide.”
I scowl at him. “Again, not funny.”
“So, this is Robinson High,” he says, following me up the few steps of stairs that lead to the entrance doors, “filled with lots of pretty girls from the looks of it.”
Spare. Me.
I tug open one of the doors and step inside, not bothering to hold it for him. He’s quick enough to catch it though. Good for him.
“All right, let’s get your schedule,” I mutter as I start to walk toward the front office. “That way I can finally get rid of you…”
“What was that?” he asks, coming beside me. “You were talking under your breath, so I couldn’t hear the last part.”
“Really?” I widen my eyes at him. “And here I was thinking that you could.” I motion ahead to where one of the secretaries is on the phone. “That’s who you can talk to about getting your schedule and whatever else you need.”
I turn to leave, desperate to get the heck away from him, when he suddenly grasps my arm. “Wait, where are you going?”
Crap, I should not be feeling tingles right now.
“I’m going to class,” I reply, grateful that he let go of my arm just as quickly as he took a hold of it. “Just like thousands of other high school students do almost every single day.”
His eyebrows crease (but not in a cute way…at all). “Well, what about showing me around?”
He must notice my annoyed look, because he then adds, “Or can you at least show me where the bathrooms are?”
“Fine,” I grumble with an eye-roll, “I will show you where the bathrooms are. Now go get your schedule.”
He gives me a lopsided grin before walking over to the front desk, and I tell myself that he’s not attractive in the slightest. Which is a total lie—of course—but I can’t afford to think that Brayden is a major hottie! Thinking that is so not okay. I mean, I broke up with him for a reason! Three reasons, actually…
Oh my gosh, that breakup note was so stupid. See? This is why preteens shouldn’t “date.” Thank God that Mom changed the dating age rule to fourteen when she did, otherwise Hailee could be making the same mistake(s) that I made. Or worse.
“Got my schedule,” Brayden announces, strolling back over to me, “and if we’re lucky enough, we just might have the same classes as each other.”
“Darn,” I tsk, snapping my fingers, “too bad I’m a totally unlucky person.”
That’s how I got stuck with him as a neighbor, after all.
“Don’t worry, Meg,” he tells me with a wink, “I have great luck.”
Oh, joy.
“Follow me,” I huff, turning to walk toward the nearest bathrooms. “Or don’t. Whichever.”
But, of course, he’s right behind me. Humming under his breath.
How. Annoying.
Except, it’s actually not.
“Okay,” I say, stopping in front of the bathrooms, “here you go. The bathrooms. Goodbye.”
“Thanks, Meg,” he drawls, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “So, I guess I’ll see you later then?”
I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Well, we are neighbors.”
He’s such a jerk for smiling like that’s funny.
It’s not funny.
It’s a flippin’ disaster.
“Hey,” he speaks once again, “where’s hallway B? That’s where my first class is.”
I point a finger to the left, where (after taking a turn or two) hallway A is located, then proceed to walk away from him.
With his great luck, I’m sure he’ll totally be able to make it to class on time…
Or not.
Whichever.
——————
The second that I walk into class, I’m rolling my eyes. Why? Well, it’s very simple. Beth Valerio…that’s why. She’s literally sitting on top of a desk with three—no, four guys crowding around her as she undoubtedly flirts with them. Like she always does. And then I (unfortunately) witness her “slow-motion hair flip.” No joke, it’s an actual thing. Almost every day, those blond locks of hers get to dramatically fall over her shoulder. To make things even worse, this has been going on since freshman year.
And it doesn’t seem like she’s planning on changing that.
I take a seat in the middle of the classroom and drop my bag on the floor next to me just as Mr. Sunshine comes into the room. Yep, that’s really his last name. And while the poor old guy gets a lot of negative attention for it, he never seems bothered.
Beth’s “admirers” scatter to find seats, and she discreetly slips into her own chair as Mr. Sunshine tries to find his glasses. The same glasses that he was just wearing when he walked into the room. As usual, he forgot that he set them on top of his desk.
Shocker.
Almost as soon as class starts, it ends with that wonderful bell ringing. I swear, the only thing that could make me love Mr. Sunshine’s class even more, would be if Beth wasn’t in Mr. Sunshine’s class. Just saying.
“There you are,” Lora says, coming up to me as I walk out of the classroom. “Soooo, how did the tour go with the ex?”
I step off to the side and scowl
