Page 7 of Fumbled Past


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He laughs. “Yeah, kind of like that.” He tilts his head to the side. “Glad I’ll have a familiar face to wake up to every day.”

His smile catches me slightly off guard, and I feel my face blush almost instantly. Thankfully, he enters the room before I do, so he doesn’t notice. Honestly, it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile this way. When he’s at my house, he kind of stays to himself and doesn’t joke around, like the other guys do.

I take a deep breath and enter the room, searching for where I’ll sit and trying to act like I didn’t just have a moment.

My dad has strict rules for every football player, cheer, or drill team member—they are to sit in the first two rows of each of their classes to set the example for the rest of the school. As I enter, it’s pretty obvious, as the back of the classroom is full and only a few seats are left in the front row.

The door to the class is in the back of the room, so I make my way toward the front, and that’s when I see one seat next to Beau. He motions for me to sit there before the other student who entered behind me does.

As I slide into my seat, he leans over, pulling my desk a little toward him, and whispers to me, “Good. Now, I can ask you for help without having to raise my hand. Math is not my strong suit.”

I turn my head and realize he’s only a few inches from my face. His closeness makes my chest tight, and I inhale a breath, trying to calm myself before I say, “Then, you’re in luck. Math I’m good at. English, not so much.”

“Then, we’ll make the perfect team. You help me with Math, and I’ll help you on your papers.” He leans back and pulls out his schedule. “Who do you have for English?”

I grab mine from my front pocket. “Ms. Anthony, fourth period.”

He slaps his schedule on top of the notebook I walked in with and set down on my desk. “Nice. Me too.” He points to where we have the same class. “Any other classes together?”

I look down at the sheet and shake my head. “Nope, just those two.”

He picks his schedule back up and folds it up to put it back in his pocket. “Bummer. Here I thought, this year was looking up all of a sudden.” My notebook catches his attention, and he points to it. “You like The Offspring?”

I smile proudly. “Hell yeah, I do. You’ve heard of them?”

He lets out a sharp laugh. “Heard of them? I’ve seen them in concert twice.”

I jump a little in my seat, suddenly more excited than I ought to be. “Shut. Up. Seriously? No one around here likes them. I found them on a rock station I was scrolling through a few months ago and have been hooked.”

He squints his eyes. “No one really likes rock music here?”

I sigh. “No. They all think I’m a little crazy for listening to it. It’s all pop and country here. Which I like but”—I shrug my shoulders—“I like new stuff too.”

“Well, you have a friend in me. I’ll introduce you to some other bands that you’ll like just as much.”

A chime rings the final bell, and the teacher calls the class to order as I say, “I’d love that.”

The crooked smile he gives me hits me in all the right places, and I turn all my attention to the teacher, praying he didn’t just see me blush.

CHAPTERFOUR

Freshman Year

“We’re heading to the lake, Dad. I’ll be back later,” I yell down the hall while I slip on my shoes.

Dad comes from his office, where he’s watching video playbacks of last night’s game. “Who are you going with?”

“Megan and Heather. Who else would I be going with?” I ask sarcastically.

“Is Aaron going?”

I swear he looks at that boy as my private bodyguard. It’s getting to the point that I can’t go anywhere unless he’s there too. Going to the movies? Aaron has to go. Going out to eat with my friends? Aaron has to go. It’s like he’s the only boy my dad trusts, and it’s super annoying.

I sigh. “I’m sure he’ll be there. We’re meeting a group of people.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, if he’s going to be there, then I’d rather you actually go with him. That way, I know someone will be there, watching out for you.”

I place my hands on my hips. “Megan and Heather will be there, watching out for me.”

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