“Don’t worry, Mom,” I say, standing to my feet, “his name doesn’t really matter. That’s all in the past anyway.”
Well, mostly…
“Just give me a second,” she tsks, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I have to remember this. He was your first boyfriend, after all.”
“Really, it’s fine. We don’t want to be late—”
“Brandon?” She quickly shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t that. But I’m getting closer, right?”
“Mom, let’s not—”
“Go ahead and tell me,” she interrupts with a frustrated huff, “otherwise it’s going to drive me crazy.”
I really do have terrible luck.
“Brayden.” I say it so fast, like ripping off a bandage, and I wonder if she even heard me. Her now puzzled expression tells me that she did.
“Brayden?” she echoes, literally blinking at me. “But not like…?”
I offer a weak nod. “Same Brayden.”
“His mother did say they used to live here,” she says, almost to herself. “I guess it just didn’t occur to me…” She then crosses her arms before giving me an accusing look. “Why didn’t you tell me that it was the same Brayden? I knew there was something familiar about that last name!”
“It’s not a big deal,” I assure her, forcing myself to sound nonchalant, “really, Mom. And I can totally talk with Hailee.”
As long as we don’t have to continue this conversation…
“Does he remember you too?” she asks, completely ignoring what I just said. “Didn’t he use to wear glasses? He must wear contacts now. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!”
“Mom,” I say, stepping toward the front door, “we’re going to be late. You don’t want us getting tardied, do you?”
“All right,” she huffs, flinging her arms in the air, “but we will be talking about this more later.”
Yay.
Chapter 8: Her Grabby Hands
One day. It’s only been one day, and the halls are already buzzing with Brayden’s name. I shouldn’t be surprised though; he was pretty popular back in middle school, which seemed like the coolest thing at first…but lost its appeal later on. I’m still convinced that’s why he wanted to date other girls. They all adored him, and the attention went to his stupid, preteen brain.
I shake my head to clear my brain as I continue to walk down the hallway. Why do I keep wasting time thinking about the past? It’s over. Done. Just because Brayden and his family moved back into town, doesn’t mean I have to mentally relive what life was like when he and I “dated.”
Exactly.
“He can be my knight in shining armor,” I hear a passing girl tell her friend. “What a hottie!”
Oh, please. She couldn’t be any more original?
I’m not bitter.
I am, however, dragging my feet to Mrs. Flint’s classroom. I never minded British Lit before, but that was when I didn’t have to share a tablet with him. Sure, I could’ve fussed and suggested that someone else share theirs with him, but that would’ve just made me look immature…which I’m not.
I can still be unhappy about my mature decision though.
Once I reach the classroom door, I can’t help but entertain the idea that maybe he won’t show up for class. Like, maybe he’s sick. Or maybe he’s busy making out with one of his new admirers. Either option is better than us sitting within close proximity again.
Except, this is my life that we’re talking about here, so when I walk into the room, Brayden’s already sitting in the middle row. With a chair and desk right beside him, because somehow Mrs. Flint couldn’t miraculously find another tablet for him to use. Ugh, ugh, ugh.
I trudge over in that direction, and then bite back a curse as I drop down into the seat next to his.
“Megan—”
I put a hand up to stop him, not even bothering to look his way. “Just because Mrs. Flint needs me to share my tablet with you, doesn’t mean that either of us need to make conversation. Okay?”
“Well, I—”
“Excuse me,” a light voice interrupts him, “I think you’re in my seat.”
I turn my gaze to the right and see a black-haired girl standing next to my desk, with an expectant look on her face. Her seat? Who is she talking to? Brayden?
“Hey, Celise,” Brayden drawls, apparently aware of who this girl is. “We just had a little misunderstanding, that’s all. Megan was actually about to get up…weren’t you, Meg?”
No, I actually wasn’t. But if Celise wants to sit here and share her tablet with him, who am I to stop her?
“Yep,” I agree with him in a tight voice. “I’m going to get out of your way right now, Celise.”
So, I stand up (making sure not to look at him) and step around Celise. Then I whisper to her, “Good luck.”
Either she doesn’t hear me, or she flat-out ignores me, because she takes the seat in a hot second without even sparing a glance in my direction. And in less than a hot second, she starts chattering up a storm with Brayden.
Well, then. I guess that’s my cue to go.
Class goes by relatively fast, and for that I am so grateful; because watching Celise hang all over Brayden was disturbing, to say the least. Not that I was keeping tabs on her, or him, because I wasn’t. Her grabby hands were just impossible to miss. Ask anyone in this classroom! Except for that guy sitting in the back row…I’m pretty sure he was asleep most of the time.
Beyond ready for my next class, I leave the classroom and turn into the hallway, all while wishing I had some flippin’ coffee.
I’m not a big coffee drinker, mostly because Mom and Dad don’t want me “habitually drinking it” (their actual words), but I could really go for
