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I shake my head, watching her climb into her car, and wonder if she’ll ever realize that the girl she used to terrorize doesn’t exist anymore.
If Peyton Crawford thinks I’m going to spend another second of my life being afraid of her, she’s in for one hell of a disappointment.
I’m done being her victim.
And this time, I intend to make damn sure she knows it.
Chapter 34
Fairhope, April 5th, 2016
I hold my breath as my English Lit teacher, Mrs. Whitaker, stands at the front of the classroom, droning on about symbolism and allegory in Lord of the Flies.
Not that I’m paying much attention to a single word she’s saying. I’m far too distracted by the feeling of Milo’s fingers gently playing with the ends of my hair from the desk behind me.
I swallow hard and glance toward Jordan, sitting two rows over. Thankfully, she seems far more interested in inspecting her fresh manicure than keeping tabs on me.
Thank Christ for that, because the last thing I need is for her to run off and tell Peyton that Milo spent most of the class playing with my hair. God only knows what Peyton would do with that information.
Deciding we’ve tempted fate enough for one morning, I discreetly scoot my chair forward until I’m practically pressed against my desk, putting my hair well out of Milo’s reach. I let out a quiet sigh of relief when his fingers fall away, only to gasp a second later when he hooks his feet around the back legs of my chair and drags me toward him again.
The screech of metal against tile is loud enough to turn every head in the classroom in my direction.
I’m going to kill him.
“Maxine, is there something you’d like to add?” Mrs. Whitaker asks, displaying the same scowl she always seems to reserve for me whenever she’s forced to acknowledge my existence.
I shake my head.
She regards me with a look that suggests I’m one disruption away from being sent to the principal’s office. She then turns back to the board and resumes her lecture.
It takes less than two seconds for me to feel Milo’s fingers in my hair again.
I turn over my shoulder, fully prepared to tell him exactly where he can shove those wandering hands of his, only to find him looking at me with so much affection that my irritation falters. The bastard even has the nerve to wink.
Damn you, Milo Fletcher.
“Stop,” I mouth.
“Never,” he mouths back.
It’s official. I’m going to kill my boyfriend.
I glance around the classroom, checking to see whether anyone has noticed our little exchange. Half the class is either sneaking looks at their phones or staring into space. Only a handful of students seem remotely interested in what Mrs. Whitaker is saying. Thankfully, nobody appears to be paying us any attention.
Well, almost nobody.
Dylan is sitting a few rows over with an arm slung across Brandon’s shoulders, who looks as though he’s decided to catch up on some much-needed sleep, leaning comfortably against him. When Dylan catches me looking, he wiggles his eyebrows and gives me a knowing smirk.
Oh, for crying out loud.
I turn back around, feeling heat creep into my cheeks.
Although, now that I think about it, I really shouldn’t be surprised that Dylan knows about us. He’s Milo’s best friend, for heaven’s sake. Of course Milo would tell him, even when I explicitly told him not to.
It’s not like I’ve kept my mouth shut either.
I told Sienna almost immediately. How could I not? I couldn’t exactly keep the happiest thing that’s happened to me in years a secret from my best friend. Besides, even if I hadn’t told her, she would have figured it out eventually.