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When he sits down by my side, I curse under my breath. I look straight ahead, acting like Ms. Jenkins’s class is the most interesting thing I’ve ever witnessed. I can still feel the weight of his eyes on me. Is he trying to look at me to death? One thing is certain: the whole don’t-look-people-in-the-eyes thing doesn’t apply to him.
I let out a breath when he gets his phone out of his pocket. Finally. He must have gotten bored. Or maybe he finally learned to take a hint. I try to focus on what the teacher’s saying, but my phone silently vibrating in the pocket of my hoodie stops me from it.
There’s no way.
A text from an unknown number awaits me.
Unknown: It’s been a while, gorgeous
Never mind, he still can’t take a hint.
The first question that crosses my mind is how the heck did he get my number? Although, I’m not at all surprised that he found a way. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, I put the phone down without texting back. It doesn’t take long for my phone to vibrate again with another text from him.
Unknown: Ignoring me, I see. That’s not very nice.
I don’t reply, yet again, hoping that he’ll eventually go away. In other words, I do exactly what I’ve been doing with my problems ever since I was born.
He doesn’t budge, still waiting for a reaction. This boy is persistent, I’ll give him that. I find a bit of comfort in the fact that we’re in a classroom packed with people. I mean, what could he possibly do?
“Hey, do you have a pencil?”
This.
He could do this.
I quickly hand him the first pencil I can get my hands on, still denying him eye contact. Our fingers briefly touch when he reaches for it, and I can tell he did that on purpose.
“Thanks, beautiful.” His voice is deep, raw.
God damn it, even his voice is attractive.
“I heard you’ve been hanging with the East Side lately.”
I still don’t answer, thinking about what Kendrick said to do if he ever did talk to me. Ignore him at all costs.
“Yes, I might have been asking around about you. Sue me.” He smiles, making me want to slap the cocky grin off his face. “You do know they can’t protect you forever, right?”
He gets a big bowl of silence as an answer.
“Listen, Kendrick probably told you that you’re safe and that he’s going to win the fight, but you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”
Ignore him at all costs. Ignore him at all costs.
“I’m going to win that fight. You know it. I know it. Kendrick knows it. So how about we skip the part where you pretend to hate me and jump straight to the part where you show me some Canadian kindness?”
Then I can’t help myself.
“I’d much rather skip the part when you were born.”
His lips part, the shock in his eyes worth a thousand dollars. He quickly gathers himself. What’s wrong, Adams?
“Oh my God. She speaks,” he teases.
Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths, Winter.
“Still arrogant, I see?”
“Seems like it,” I reply.
