“How was your day, sweet girl?,” my mom, Susan, asks while I carefully set my things on the floorboard and buckle in. “Was there anything big and exciting? Did you meet anyone new?”
“It was a good day. Nothing big or exciting, it was mostly just teacher introductions and classroom rules, boring first day stuff,” I tell her with a shrug, purposefully ignoring the last part of her question. But in the back of my mind, I’m reeling from big brown eyes and a charming grin.
***
I spend the rest of the semester beginning my last class of the day with “Howdy there,” and ending it with “Have a good day, Eleanor.” Which is totally fine–it’s all the words in between the hello and goodbye that are driving me nuts.
I thought that maybe after the beginning-of-the-year excitement wore off, the boys would settle in. Then I thought that maybe they’d calm down once football season ended. Then I told myself that the combination of the excitement of playoffs and the buzz of the holidays was to blame.
But as we start the second half of our freshman year, I realize I could not have been more wrong. Instead, they’ve cemented themselves as the loudest and most annoying part of my day.
David spends half his time teaching the kids around him every Spanish curse word he can think of, and the other half arguing with Señor Flores because “that’s not the way a conversation sounds in Mexico, you sound like a robot.”
Jack doesn’t talk much, but he spaces out at a level that comes around full circle and distracts me. I don’t know why I feel even remotely responsible for him, but when I see him zoning out during a lesson that will surely be on the test, I get so stressed out on his behalf thatIstop paying attention.
And don’t even get me started on Griffin Hart.The butterflies I felt that first day have been viciously murdered by the spark of annoyance that flares up anytime he’s in a five-foot radius. I don’t think that boy has ever stopped talking a day in his life. If there’s room for a sarcastic comment or a wisecrack, he’s going to take it.
And if there’snotroom, he’s going tomakeit. Sometimes I swear I think he could argue with a brick wall andwin.
“Do you ever stop talking?” I hiss at him under my breath. “I can’t hear Señor Flores over your yapping.”
Without turning to fully look at me, he whispers out of the side of his mouth, “Why would I stop talking when everything I say is way more interesting than whatever this is?”
Rolling my eyes, I lean back in my seat again and try to focus on verb conjugation, but I seem to have poked the bear.
“Y’know, if you lightened up a bit I bet you’d actually be fun,” he continues in a hushed tone. “Then again,” he says as he turns around to look me in the eye, “You sure are cute when you’re annoyed with me.”
Scowling, I fire back, “I’m plenty of fun when I’m with people I actually like.Youdo not fall in that category.”
His eyes light up, like he’s excited at the prospect of arguing with me.
“I think you could like me if you tried hard enough. Maybe we could even be friends.”
“Hard pass. Does this usually work for you?”
I look past him toward Señor Flores, but I can see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. It makes me scowl even harder.
The last ten minutes of the class are thankfully uneventful, but the moment the bell rings Griffin whips around to face me, continuing our argument like no time has passed.
“C’mon, give me a chance. For all you know, I could be the most darling gentleman in the history of Larkspur.” His face lights up with that stupid smile, and I find myself wondering how I ever thought it might be charming.
“Absolutely not.” I try to sound as unbothered as possible, but I can’t keep the sharp edge out of my voice. “I don’t need more friends, and even if I did, you wouldn’t make the list of people I’d consider.”
David and Jack look at each other quickly, then continue gathering their things and talking much louder than necessary. Griffin’s smile drops a bit, eyes flashing with irritation.
“What have I even done to you?” he snaps. “You can’t hate me this much just because you think I’m loud in class or whatever. I thought we got off on a good foot Eleanor, what am I missing here?”
Slamming my bag down with a thud and putting my hands on my hips, I look him straight in the eye. “Well maybe you’re not asdarlingas you think you are. Maybe we were never on a good foot, and now we probably- no,definitely-never will be.”
I know I’m being unnecessarily mean, but I can’t help it–there’s something about him that grates on my nerves in a way I’m entirely unfamiliar with.
Our voices have raised enough that David and Jack have given up any pretense about not eavesdropping, looking back and forth between us with their jaws dropped.
Griffin’s smile is completely gone now, and it’s his turn to scowl. “That’s how you want to play it, huh? Well great news darlin’, I no longer have any desire to be on good footing with you anyway.”
“Fine,” I snap, storming my way out of the classroom.
“FINE,” he yells at me as I walk away. I don’t bother to look back at him.
