I pull away to a shocked Derek, a very shocked Derek.
Feeling embarrassed, I turn my attention to my lunch tray.
The purpose of the kiss?
A: To make Blake jealous…duh.
B: Most couple quarrels end in kissing.
It seemed to make sense. Now I’m not so sure.
I don’t even bother glancing at Blake to see what his expression is, because if it’s not one of shock or jealousy…I just kissed Derek for nothing.
I kissed Derek. Crap, what was I thinking?
I wasn’t…not clearly anyway.
“Britt,” Derek says in a quiet voice, “what was that?”
I keep my eyes on my tray. “That was nothing.”
“You kissed me,” he states the obvious, “why did you kiss me?”
I can’t believe this…
“Brittany?”
I’m starting to hate my name.
“Brittany,” he says again, “why—”
“The kiss was nothing!” I snap. “It meant nothing.”
“So…?”
“So, it was fake.” I finally turn my attention to him. “Just like everything else.”
He stares at me for a few seconds, then nods as if everything just clicked into place and makes sense now. “Okay, gotcha.”
I refocus my gaze back to my food, thankful that we’re now on the same page.
“I thought we agreed that kissing was a last resort.”
I mentally groan.
Why can’t he just let it go?
“We did agree on that,” I reply as calmly as possible, “and it was necessary.”
“Necessary?”
“Yes.” I look at him again. “Necessary. Blake was watching us and couple quarrels end in kissing.”
Why do I have to explain everything?
“So are you just going to randomly kiss me—”
“It was just spur-of-the-moment!” I huff in frustration. “I’m sorry; I didn’t think it’d be that big of a big deal!”
“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs. “I just want to know if you’re always going to kiss me like that.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask, well aware of how sharp my voice sounds. “Have a discussion every time before we decide to kiss?”
“I don’t know, Britt.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But—”
The next thing I know, his lips are pressed against mine.
I quickly push him away in shock and distaste. “What the heck was that?”
“I was experimenting…” he trails off, “and I was right.”
“Experimenting?” I echo in disbelief as I wipe my mouth with a napkin, trying to get rid of the awful feeling. “I’m not some science project!”
“I didn’t say that you were,” he says in a slow voice, “but you obviously don’t like to be caught off-guard by being kissed.”
“Obviously,” I all-but-hiss, narrowing my eyes at him, “so let’s not let that happen again…okay?”
“Fine.” He nods. “You don’t kiss me…I don’t kiss you.”
I cross my arms. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!” I exclaim in frustration as I stand up.
“What are you doing?”
“I am leaving,” I state simply before picking my tray up, “I have no desire to continue eating with you.”
He proceeds to look at me as if I’m crazy. “What?”
“I. Am. Leaving,” I enunciate each word. “Goodbye.”
“Britt—”
I ignore him and leave the cafeteria after throwing my trash out and setting my tray where the other used trays are.
No affection—huh, Del?
Oh, there’s affection all right.
Just fake affection…complicated affection.
——————
I barely see Del or Liv or even Derek for the rest of the day and now, I’m on my way to detention.
Hopefully for the last time…
“Hello, Brittany,” Supermodel Star greets me as I hand her my detention slip, “how are you?”
Well, I’m still in love with my ex-boyfriend so I’m fake-dating his best friend to make him jealous…even though it doesn’t seem to be working.
I kissed Derek: terrible mistake.
We fought, then he kissed me…then we fought again.
And I am seriously annoyed that I’m stuck in detention again.
I take the signed slip. “I’m fine.”
“That’s good, sweetheart.” She smiles. “Sit anywhere.”
I trudge over to an empty desk and sit down.
All I want to do is go to sleep and wake up to realize that this is all just a bad dream…that none of it is real.
Life is so unfair.
The classroom door opens and Blake walks in.
Anddddd life just got more unfair.
He gives Miss Winnows his detention slip and after she signs it, she gives him the same perfect smile she gave me. “Sit anywhere.”
So he sits next to me. Seriously?
He pulls his phone out and I try to occupy myself by looking at Miss Winnows (who, again, is clacking away on her laptop), at the ceiling (which is a white, grayish color), and then at the wall closest to me (it’s still the ugliest color).
“What are you doing?”
I jump a little at the sound of Blake’s voice and awkwardly look at him. “I’m not doing anything.”
“I uh…” He clears his throat some. “I saw you and Derek at lunch.”
I force myself not to cheer in triumph.
He saw! He saw the kiss!
“Oh?” I try not to seem eager. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “You guys fight a lot?”
Our fighting…that’s what he saw.
He didn’t see the kiss. He didn’t even notice it.
I kissed Derek for absolutely no reason.
“Fight?” I manage to squeak out. “No, we just…it’s our special, little thing—you know?”
Brilliant, Britt.
He cocks an eyebrow in the hottest way. “Fighting is your special thing?”
“Yeah,” I stick to my lie, “we fight over nothing—and then we kiss and make up.”
Ha, pathetic.
“I see…” he trails off as if trying to understand, “so you guys like fighting?”
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
Yeah, Britt—let’s just make this worse.
“Who would’ve thought?” he comments with a thoughtful expression. “I mean…you and I weren’t like that.”
I scoff some. “Well, you’re not Derek.”
Oh gosh…did I just say that?
Judging by the surprised look on his face, I’m going to take that as a yes.
“Yeah…” He licks his lips with a slight nod. “I guess I’m not.”
What am I doing?
Here’s the guy that I love and I’m talking about Derek like an idiot!
About how we love to fight so we can kiss and make up—how sick do I sound?
“I’m glad you’ve moved on, Britt,” he states in a matter-of-fact way, “and that you’re happy…Derek’s a great guy.”
I’m not happy, Blake. I’m miserable!
Why can’t you see that?
Why can’t you see that all you have to do is say five little words?
“Britt, I want you back.”
That’s five, right?
One, two—yeah, it is…okay.
All I want to do is burst out into tears and tell him everything.
And then he’d kiss the top of my head and say that it’s okay…just like he did when my goldfish, Percy died.
But, I force a smile instead. “Thanks, Blake.”
He just nods and goes back to his phone while I feel so emotionally drained.
The rest of detention goes by in silence and I quickly leave the room—desperate to get away from Blake.
I start walking to my locker, but once I see who’s waiting the
re I turn around and hope he didn’t see me.
“Britt!”
He saw me.
“Hey,” Derek says, coming around me. “Look, I’m sorry for earlier—I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
Once again, his blue eyes are filled with remorse and he looks genuinely sorry.
So what am I going to tell him?
“Tough luck, I don’t forgive you.”?
Yeah, I don’t think so.
“I forgive you,” I reply in all honesty, “and I’m sorry too.”
He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost awkward. “I, uh—” He laughs some. “I don’t know what to say next.”
I shrug. “Don’t say anything.”
His hand drops as he just stares at me and my eyebrows crease. “Derek?”
“Yeah,” he suddenly says, “let’s go.”
“Go?” I echo in confusion. “Go where?”
“Remember our deal?” He raises an eyebrow. “The one we made in detention—about after school?”
“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “Our deal…right.”
Why the heck did I agree to that?
“Miss Grayson?”
I turn to see Vice Principal Colton with her hands folded in front of her waist. “Principal Rottman would like to see you in his office.”
Chapter 20: I Was With Derek
——————————————————
“Me?” I squeak, pointing to myself. “As in: Brittany Grayson?”
“Yes,” she drawls in a bored voice, “you—now.”
I look at Derek, who gives me a small nod and I exhale loudly before following her to the front office.
Principal Rottman (“Principal Rotten-man” to those who despise him) is a “fair” person in his mid-fifties who’s been rumored to have been divorced at least five times and has like twenty children total.
I don’t really buy all of that though.
It’s also been said that he and Vice Principal Colton hate each other because they were high school sweethearts that broke up in college on bad terms…I kind of buy that.
Why else would she have such a moody attitude all the time?
We stop in front of the dark, wooden door labeled: “Principal Rottman” and I gulp because yes, believe it or not…this is my first time coming to his office.
Call me “Goody-Two-Shoes-Grayson,” but I don’t care.
I’m proud of myself for staying out of trouble. At least until now anyway…what did I do?
“Knock,” she orders with a stern look.
Heck to the no.
I don’t want to be the one to knock.
“Knock on the door, Miss Grayson.”
Darn it.
I nervously raise my hand and give the door a timid rap.
She arches a very thin eyebrow. “What. Was. That?”
“Um…” I blink. “That was, it—”
She rolls her eyes, then knocks rather loudly on the door and I swallow at the sound of Principal Rottman’s booming voice. “Come in!”
So this is how it all ends.
Me, an innocent lamb…sent to the slaughter.
Little Red Riding Hood to the Big Bad Wolf, Wendy to Cap—
“Open the door, Miss Grayson.”
Vice Principal Colton’s annoyed tone causes me to clear my throat. “Right…the door.”
I wrap my fingers around the doorknob and slowly begin to turn it—but I guess I’m taking too long because she throws the door open, scaring the flippin’ living daylights out of me.
“What—”
My mouth drops when I see who’s sitting in front of Principal Rottman’s desk.
“Mom?” I ask in surprise as I walk into the room. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked her to come,” Principal Rottman states in a no-nonsense voice. “Have a seat, Miss Grayson.”
“Principal Rottman.” I sit down in the chair next to Mom. “Why am I here?”
He folds his hands in front of him and looks past me. “You may leave, Ms. Colton.”
She lets out a little “humph” then I hear the door close and Principal Rottman turns his attention to me. “Miss Grayson…you’re an excellent student. Good grades, good behavior—, however, you’ve managed to get detention three times in the past few days. Care to explain?”
“Well, sir…” I swallow, shoving my hands underneath my things. “Two of my detentions were for being late in Mrs. Kempton’s class…and, well—you know Mrs. Kempton.”
“Yes, I do,” he replies, looking unimpressed, “and why were you late for Mrs. Kempton’s class twice?”
My eyes widen at that. “I was, uh—”
He sighs, obviously frustrated. “You were what, Miss Grayson?”
“I was with Derek!” I blurt out.
It’s not that I want to blame Derek, but my being late was technically his fault.
He raises an eyebrow. “Derek Connors?”
“Brittany?” Mom looks at me in disbelief. “Derek got you detention?”
“No!” I bury my face in my hands. “Yes! But it wasn’t his fault!”
“Well,” Principal Rottman grunts, “just what exactly were you and Mr. Connors doing that caused you to be late twice.”
My head shoots up at his question. “What—”
“It’s my business, Miss Grayson,” he interrupts me. “I run this school and—”
“What we were doing doesn’t matter.” I cross my arms. “I want to know why I’m here.”
Yes, I’m being bold. But he’s acting like Principal Rotten-man right now.
Accusing Derek and me of—
His lips form a straight line. “You’re here, Miss Grayson, because three detentions in a row are equivalent to suspension.”
“Suspension?” I choke out. “But—but I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Principal Rottman,” Mom sighs, “can’t we figure something —”
“Rules are rules, Mrs. Grayson,” he cuts her short. “She’s gotten three detentions in a row…so she’ll be suspended for three days.”
“This is ridiculous!” I uncross my arms. “Three days? That doesn’t even make sense! I showed up for detention, why the he—”
“Brittany,” Mom says gently. “Calm down, honey.”
Calm down?
How does she possibly expect me to calm down?
Principal Rotten-man clears his throat. “Your suspension starts tomorrow.”
I immediately get up, then storm out of his office and the front office, ignoring Mom’s calls—and I storm straight into Derek…literally.
I sigh, taking a step back. “Sorry, Derek.”
“It’s fine,” he replies before tilting his head, “what’s wrong? What’d Rotten-man want?”
“I got suspended.” I scowl. “Apparently three detentions in a row means suspension.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I know that.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You knew and you didn’t’ tell me?”
“It’s not exactly a secret, Britt.” His eyebrows crease. “I mean…it’s in the student handbook.”
“You could’ve told me that!” I basically shriek. “All of this is your fault!”
“What?” He looks at me as if I’m crazy. “How is this all my fault?”
“If you hadn’t tricked me into going with you then I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess!” I snap at him. “That’s how this is your fault.”
And with that, I go around him before starting to march toward my locker.
Why hasn’t he come after me like he usually does?
What? No—I don’t want him to come after me.
I’m mad at him.
I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder though, causing me to sigh as I turn around to face him. “Derek, I—”
I stop when I see that it’s not Derek, but some blond-haired guy that looks strangely familiar and I step back. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Todd,” he informs me, “Delanie and I a
re together?”
My eyebrows crease. “I thought she dumped you.”
“Dumped me?” He laughs. “Did she say that?”
“In so many words,” I reply with a shrug, “she made it pretty clear though that you guys aren’t together.”
“Listen—” He suddenly takes a hold my wrist, looking at me intently. “Delanie is my girl…all right?”
“What the heck?” I attempt to pull my hand away. “Todd, let—”
“I don’t care what she or anyone else says,” he hisses, “she’s mine. You hear me? Del is—”
“Let go of her,” Derek commands Todd, coming from behind him, “right now.”
But instead of doing so, Todd turns to face him…jolting me to his side.
“Oh yeah?” he taunts Derek. “And what if I—”
My eyes widen as Derek grabs Todd by the collar of his shirt and pushes him against the row of lockers. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I swear that you’ll pay.”
I gulp at that and Derek’s fingers slowly start to uncurl from Todd’s collar as Todd just stares at him dumbfounded. “Go.”
Todd nods and I rub the wrist that he grabbed as he now dashes down the hallway.
“You okay?”
I let my hand drop. “I’m fi—”
Derek grasps my hand. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine, Derek,” I assure him as he turns it over and studies my wrist, “really.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near him,” he tells me in stern tone, not letting go of my hand, “okay?”
I mutely nod and glance at my hand, which his thumb is slowly rubbing over in a slow circular motion.
I almost ask what he’s doing, but he’s suddenly letting go of my hand as if it’s on fire or something.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he half-whispers/half-mutters, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He then turns and walks off, heading down the hallway.
There can be no person as confusing as Derek Connors.
But I guess I’m confusing too…because I jog after him, shouting his name.
He turns around with creased eyebrows, and I really don’t know why—but I hug him.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Okay, so maybe I do know why…
At first he seems a little tense, but then he relaxes as he hugs me back.
“Anytime, Britt.” He sighs. “Anytime.”
My Boyfriend's Best Friend Page 12
