Mr. Pritchard walks back to his desk, pulling my phone from his top drawer. “You should know better than to have this out during classes.”
“Yes, sir,” I respond, taking the phone.
“I’ll let it slide because,” he pauses to gesture to my extra-credit homework, “this is fantastic.”
I step back in shock. “Fantastic?”
He grins. “You’ve really applied yourself, Jamie. There’s still some room for improvement, but you’re showing your work. You keep this up, and preserving your scholarship won’t be a concern.”
My insides buzz with glee. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much.”
He gestures to the door, a happy smile on his face. “Off you go. I don’t want you to be late for your next class.”
I nod, making my way toward the door. “Thanks again.”
There’s a spring in my step as I enter the hall. I sharply halt, searching up and down the crowded space. Where are the Miss Perfects? I slide along the wall and make my way toward my next class. I hug my books, keeping my shoulders high for protection, and my eyes peeled in all directions.
My heart palpitates when I spy Yvette’s blonde ponytail ahead. As the crowd clears, I see her gossiping with Camila as Tabitha approaches. The two girls look Tabitha up and down. If I’m not mistaken, there’s tension between them. Tabitha waves, but the other girls don’t give her a warm welcome. They turn on their heels and strut through the hall, allowing Tabitha to follow behind with her tail between her legs.
Okay, that only made things a ton weirder. Did they not see me, their usual easy target?
I giggle to myself. Am I really worried about not getting bullied? I’m acting like I’m missing out on a treat. I stand taller, happy to have been a missed target for the morning.
I keep moving toward my next class, and then my breath hitches in my throat. Dominica and Hayley move down the opposite side of the hall. I skid past a group of boys, avoiding their line of sight.Phew. I didn’t need to miss one group of girls, only to be ridiculed by another.
Something tugs on my blazer. A hand hooks around my waist, and then yanks me into the nearby alcove. I squeak, stumbling against a tall, lanky body.
“Hey,” Milo whispers.
I look up, smiling in surprise. “Hey. What are you doing?”
He brushes his hand over my hair and then along my jawline. “Did you think I could let you just walk past?”
I giggle, grasping the lapels of his blazer. On tippy-toes, I reach up and peck his lips. One of his hands anchors me, sitting on my lower back. I look over my shoulder, and the traffic in the hall has minimized drastically.
“Do you think anyone saw us?”
Milo nibbles below my ear. “Who cares if they did?”
“I thought we were keeping this a secret?”
He laughs, and it tickles my neck. “We are. That’s why I dragged you into this hidey-hole.”
I look around the dimly lit space. “Why were you hiding here?”
His arm drops from around me and he fidgets with his stance. “I was waiting for the crowd to die out. I got shoved around.”
“What?” My heart hammers. “By who?”
He shakes his head. “It’s cool. I was just in the way. Besides, I got to see you.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “This is exactly what I needed.”
I swallow hard and clutch his hand. “I don’t want anyone messing with you.”
He shrugs. “It was no big deal.”
“I feel bad because I was just celebrating about not getting harassed.”
His head tilts, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
