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She keeps looking straight ahead, but everyone is looking in her direction. Wondering. Waiting for the answer. The gossips are waiting to eat up the knowledge that one of the popular guys in school has a sister no one knows about.
“No.”
Everyone’s attention is now on Tyler.
“No,” he repeats. “We are not related. We just have the same last name.”
“Oh, okay. I’m sorry.” Her eyes flick to Rubi. “Rubi, could you please begin writing. I notice you don’t have a piece of paper or pen out on your desk.”
Some people snicker, including Chris, Jen, and Nicole.
Tyler opens his book bag with more force than necessary and grabs a sheet of paper and a pen with a scowl on his face. He gets up and walks over and places the paper and pen on Rubi’s desk. “Don’t embarrass me. Come prepared next time,” he whispers to her.
Her eyes flash in his direction, and I swear I can see the corner of her pouty lip lift in a snarl.
Jen laughs. “Please, Tyler. Her shoes are enough to embarrass anyone. What are those?”
Everyone laughs at her joke. “She has a lot to be embarrassed about, and it has nothing to do with you,” Jen says.
“Come on, guys, give her a break,” Mrs. Keller scolds. I don’t feel bad. She deserves it. “Ky Reeves.”
When she hears my name, she turns her head, eyes opened wide, and that’s all the attention that I needed. Recognition. Checkmate. She remembers. Her eyes find my dark ones and I glare at her. My reaction must surprise her because her lips part. Her brows slightly pinch together.
“Here,” I call out, never breaking eye contact. The look I’m giving her is not forgiving. It’s full of anger. I’m not happy that she is here, though, and soon enough she will learn to keep it a secret from the others that we know each other. I’ll make sure it stays that way. She is not going to have it easy. I’m not going to make it easy for her. Here she will realize she is on her own. I’m the bully I told her I would never be. The good friend was flushed out the window when she left me her stupid little letter after I told her things about me no one else knows. My secrets. My goals. I was stupid and fell for her friendship, when at the time she was everything to me. I’m glad I never told her the truth of how I felt about her when we were kids. I admit I told her I liked her, and that I thought she was pretty and special. She probably thinks I’m the same stupid eleven-year-old she left with a broken heart. I’m going to make sure she knows I’m not that kid anymore. I’m the exact opposite. The sooner she realizes it, the better.
After ten minutes, the teacher clears her throat. “Alright, the next twenty minutes of class I will call on some of you so you can read what you wrote. This will be part of your participation grade. I have written your weekly assignment on the board. It is due by Friday, no exceptions.”
She begins to call out names randomly around the room, and I know she will call on Rubi since she is new. I can’t wait to hear what she says she did during the summer. I mean, I shouldn’t care, but I’m interested in seeing what she has been up to these days.
“Probably went dumpster diving,” Nicole says under her breath to Jen. I know they are talking about Rubi and how her dirty-looking hoodie and sneakers stick out from the brand-new school uniform she is wearing. Looking at her from the corner of my eye, not to make it obvious I’m staring at her, I notice her sexy thighs and wonder how soft her skin is. I also notice the way she slides her tongue over her bottom lip every so often.
One thing I have to hand to Rubi, they can make fun of her shoes or hoodie because they are dingy looking, but she is still hot as fuck. She looks like a schoolgirl fantasy in a porn video, where the lady dresses up in a naughty schoolgirl outfit before she spreads her legs, waiting for you to take her on the desk. That vision makes me wonder if her breasts are full and perky. I can’t tell a thing with that hoodie she’s wearing.
“Rubiana, please share with the class what you did over the summer.”
I raise a brow when I see Tyler shift in his seat uncomfortably. He pinches his nose with his fingers, and I wonder what has him all flustered.
Who gives a fuck what she did? It has nothing do to with him. Why should anyone care. He of all people can’t stand her existence. I’m just a nosey prick who wants to know what she did. I also want to break her like she broke me. Make her hurt the way I did.
She stays quiet, and the initial shock must have worn off by now. The shock of us crossing paths again. We’re in the same room. After all these years of wondering where she went.
The what if.
What not.
The stupid little flowers I gave her the second time she came to meet me by the edge of the fence in my backyard, like a lovesick idiot begging for her attention. Trusting her. Promises we made to each other. They were all lies that spilled from her tongue. And I hate her for it. I hate her for using me and then throwing me away without a reason.
Some might think I’m stupid for hating her the way I do right now. It was just a stupid letter, but to me it was more. She was all I had left at a time when I was a different person, a better person.
The class waits for her to speak. She raises her eyes and looks straight ahead, but stays silent as everyone waits. And waits.
“You heard her,” I say in a harsh tone that has her turning to look directly at me. I wave my hand in Mrs. Keller’s direction, indicating that the teacher asked her to do something. “You’re not special here. If everyone has to do the assignment, so do you.”
Her bottom teeth snag the skin of her bottom lip. Her leg twitches underneath the wooden desk with the attached blue plastic chair. She’s pissed that I called her out, but I don’t care. I raise my brow in challenge.
She rolls her eyes as she stands and walks up to the teacher, handing her the piece of paper. Mrs. Keller scans the paper while Rubi walks back to her desk, catching the eyes of Jimmy, the asshole up front. I didn’t miss the way he looks her up and down.
Rubi sits back in her seat, and when Mrs. Keller looks up from reading whatever Rubi wrote, I notice her eyes are glassy. My interest is piqued. I want to know what she wrote. To see if her writing is any different from the note she left me all those years ago. I feel like a fucking psycho, but maybe I am a fucking psycho. I’m crazy, cold-hearted, and unemotional, but I still want to know what she wrote about her summer. But just like everything in my life. The timing is just off.
