by Lilah Walker
What could be special about me? A poor girl from the city?
We got back to our meal, but even as Katelyn and Ariel start chatting about when they want to start college applications, my mind remains on Mr. Electric Eyes. Why did Lowell see me as enough of a threat to require his attention? I have nothing he could want. If what Katelyn and Ariel say is true, I shouldn’t even be on his radar.
And that settles it, I tell myself. If they don’t understand why he paid me any mind, the incident was probably a one-off thing.
CHAPTER TEN
I believe that while we’re chatting—I really do—but then the belief drops like a deck of cards. We’ve finished up our lunch and are heading back toward our next class when Katelyn nudges me. “Hey, your crush.”
She slyly directs her gaze towards Lowell. He’s standing around near the entrance of our next class. There’s no mistaking his glare fixating on me. He scans me so intently, in fact, that I can feel his eyes all over my body.
Goosebumps pop out up and down my arms. It’s an enormous struggle to keep my gaze up, but I manage it. I can’t afford to throw in the towel when I don’t even know what I’m fighting for yet. No way am I going to duck my head like a scared little kid just because he’s looking at me.
And yet, my heartbeat increases as we approach when he releases a wicked smile on his handsome face.
When we get close, I contemplate what he might do. Nothing comes to mind that makes sense and seems like he could get away with this—not with teachers this close and class almost starting. Somehow, I’m the last of the three of us, walking behind Ariel and Katelyn, and that’s a huge mistake on my part. Katelyn eases past him to get into our classroom, Ariel quickly follows, and I attempt to enter the class, too, but he stops me in my tracks.
Lowell’s tall frame hinders me from taking another step—he’s stepped right into my path, and strength just oozes out of him. If I take another step, a shoving match will ensue between us because he’s blocking my only path. There’s no way I can keep my eyes up at this point; I know what I’ll see, and I’d rather focus on the hardwood floor.
I want to ask what he wants, but the words refuse to form. I move to one side to step away from his blockade, but he stops me by taking just one step to the same side. The same thing happens when I step to the other side. And even though it seems like someone inside the classroom should be stepping in and helping me—the students? the teacher?—it’s like Lowell and I are in our own little world, and the hallway is clearing out fast.
Giving up is all I can do, it seems. I finally look up at him, and his eyes consume me like they’re becoming heavy weights around my neck. I hate feeling helpless, but there’s no other way to describe the way I feel right now. With me looking up at him, seeing the way his eyes are roaming up and down my body, I want to sink into the floor. I just hope he’ll let me pass, or at least state what he wants.
The minute he delays me feel like an hour. When he finally moves to the side, I walk as briskly as possible into the class.
Getting into the room was ridiculous. The entire class has their eyes on me, and my legs are suddenly heavy.
I rarely get intimidated, so what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I letting him have this effect on me? He’s just a bully, trying to get under my skin, and I’m letting him! I don’t know whether to shout or cry.
Heading for an empty seat, I hold my head up and put on a brave face, however much I find it difficult. I glance at Katelyn and smile. Smiling is my trick for moments like this; it feeds my confidence, encouraging me to walk casually and act like my pride is still intact.
I flop back in my seat when I get to my desk. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall on the way. Katelyn seems to know just what I need. She grabs my hand under the desk and squeezes it.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, feeling insanely grateful that she’s also in this class. “Thank you,”
“Was that why you smiled?”
I glance up at the front of the classroom. The teacher seems to be sitting and reviewing his notes even though it’s about time for class to start, so it seems we have some time. I look back at Katelyn, knowing doubt is creeping onto my face now. “No fucking way. I didn’t know what else to do! I feel better now that I’m in the classroom, though.”
“You’re different. Only a few people can smile after taking that shit from him. I would have walked behind you if I knew he was going to be such an asshole.”
“There was nothing you could have done, Katelyn. I’m good.”
“What will you do now? Do you have a plan?”
I stare at her, feeling frustration creep up my throat. I need a plan? This is so frustrating. Instead of belaboring the point, I just tell Katelyn I’ll figure something out, and that seems to satisfy her. Meanwhile, I can’t help stewing on the question. I could report him, but it’s obviously pointless. Lowell is too important and wealthy to allow the teachers to handle him. They’re in his pocket—or, if they’re not, the administration is, and that amounts to the same thing. And I can’t tell my grandparents. It would only worry them, and they don’t deserve that.
But I mean, why should I have to worry about this? I’m a seventeen-year-old from New York City. I’m nothing if not capable. And what’s more…if I can’t handle a high school bully on my own, how can I handle my mother leaving me?
I’ll just have to keep absorbing the pressure until I figure him out. I won’t cave. Sooner or later, he’ll get sick of messing with me and find some other target.
The bell finally rings, and that’s the signal for last stragglers to hurry in. A few kids rush in, but then comes Lowell. He walks like he owns the place, and I try not to let him see me looking, but it’s easier to examine him now that I’m a safe distance from him. Lowell Bartlett is one beautiful guy when he’s not being a motherfucker.
He’s tall, and has the body of a quarterback. He has the moves of the male lead in romantic movies. His thick, near-black hair is always tossed in the right direction, and the buzzed sides only make him look like a rockstar, if anything.
When he smiles, wicked or not, it looks as though he’s attempting to seduce someone. In fact, there’s no ignoring the chills going up and down my spine when he looks in my eyes, and I jar my gaze down when he catches me looking as he reaches his desk.
If the situation were any different, I’d probably melt away to nothing.
I imagine what it would be like for him to wrap his muscled arms around me. The way his tan skin would look against mine, and how firmly I bet he’d hold me. I know it’s silly to be thinking of him like this, but I can’t help it. Besides, nobody will ever know.
He just looks too good to not think about him like this—especially when he’s already singled me out for some reason. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn he doesn’t roll with girls in high school, though. I bet he probably likes older girls, and maybe dates someone from the nearby college.
What does he see in me, though? Is this a silly game for him to play while he spends his days at S.A., or something I should worry about?
These are the questions that plague my mind during class. His negative attention offers me such confusion, I can barely take in what the teacher’s saying.
Because my brain keeps circling back to the same old question, unreasonable as it seems. Is he interested in me?
∞∞∞∞∞
By the end of the first week, I’ve become used to Lowell’s glares in the hallways and classrooms. It’s become a part of my day. I even have expectations of his electric blue eyes following me, the thought of him edging into the back of my mind when I plan for my day.
After two weeks at S.A., I still don’t know what he wants, but his silent stares have gone from being confusing to actually scaring me a little. At the least, I have to admit that they make me nervous about what might be coming around the corner with him. And yet, somehow, at the same time…a small part of me also enjoys the attention he gives me, as negative as it feels. It’s impossible to feel like a
nobody, after all, when a serious somebody gives you so much attention. For better or worse.
The newer problem I’ve got is progressively growing on the horizon, though. A group of girls in my classes have started throwing a salty attitude towards me and Katelyn whenever they see us. They glare and stare at us whenever our eyes glance their way. Sometimes, they look directly at us with pure hatred.
At first, I wondered what I’d done to them, too. However, it doesn’t take long to find out what the problem is for their group. My knowing answers to teachers’ questions got their attention to begin with, and it turns out that Lowell’s attention is the final straw.
Janyce is the ringleader of their little group of rich, flashy girls at S.A.—and, of course, she admires Lowell. And anyone paying attention to Lowell is going to see him paying attention to me.
“She’s been making passes at him for a long time, but Lowell won’t budge her way,” Katelyn whispers to me today as we walk past them in the hall.
I’d already suspected as much, but hadn’t brought it up.
“He’s not interested in her?” I whisper back.
“Nope, not at all. Janyce and her group used to try everything they could to get into situations that would involve Lowell being around, but he made his stance clear.”
“Maybe he’s into college girls,” I suggest. That’s still my theory.
“That’s possible, but it doesn’t stop Janyce from making moves on him.”
“Wow, that’s pathetic,” I say, shaking my head. “If he’s not interested, he’s not interested.”
Katelyn pats me on the back, chuckling. “I don’t think she took it as a real problem until your arrival, Aleta.” She glances back over her shoulder, and then turns back to me. “Maybe she thought like you, that he likes older girls, and you showing up proved an S.A. girl can catch his eye. That’s gotta hurt.”
“Interesting,” I mumble. It makes sense, but that only makes my situation rougher. While disturbing, Lowell’s unsolicited attention and bothersome antics over me annoy the hell out of them—and thus make them hate me. Fantastic.
“Yeah, you’re getting the attention Janyce has craved for years,” Katelyn says with a laugh.
“I find it hilarious they’d be mad at me for it. I wish they knew how pissed I am with the way he bothers me.”
“Apparently, the attention you’re getting from Lowell shot your name up the ranks among the gossipers at S.A.”
“I’m becoming popular, and they can’t stand it, right?”
Katelyn grins. “That’s the situation, Aleta.”
As unwanted as his attention is for me, to them, I’m the number one- competitor on two fronts. All I want in life right now is to have a few friends, get college applications filled out and turned in, study, and pass my exams. Their attitudes reek of pure jealousy. I’ll keep my cool, though. I might not know how to handle Lowell, but I can surely handle a bunch of over-pampered rich girls. If they make any clear moves towards me, I’ll fuck them up big-time.
For now, I just laugh over their stupidity with Katelyn.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
C lasswork and homework continue on normally for my first six weeks at S.A., and I get most of my college applications turned in early. Life with my grandparents isn’t exactly as unpleasant as I thought it would be. I used to think they were crazy-strict and harped on morals and decency from the stories my mom told me in the past, but they seem pretty low-key. Mom had me thinking they would want to put a leash on me.
My life in New York was always fast-paced, never boring. So, when my mom talked about moving down to have us live with her parents, I had serious concerns about what life in Florida would look like. I also feared their grandparental restraint that might come with it.
When my mom disappeared the same morning of my first school day, I tried to appear strong. I tried to convince myself I could handle whatever came my way, and then that she’d be back soon, but it was mostly an act. In truth, she worried the hell out of me, and left me alone and scared. Now, I know she isn’t coming back—for a while, at least. I wasn’t sure I could cope with my grandparents alone. And coupled with the bullying from Lowell, that first week was rough.
Contrary to my fears, though, my grandparents are probably the best thing I have going for me. They’re wealthy, and have everything I need to live a comfortable life. I never knew I had relatives who are so rich. And aside from that, they give me absolute freedom. Probably because of their old age, they’re too tired to worry about me. The stories I heard from my mom seem like fairy tales, as they’ve pretty much given me free rein. I do my part by going to school and being respectful, and they seem happy to have me around while still leaving me to make my own choices. Grandma drops me off at S.A. every day, and then Katelyn normally gives me a ride home, but if I’m late because I’ve decided to walk or stay after school to use the facilities or work in the library, they never say anything, and my allowance more than paves the way for an occasional Uber.
My grandpa is less active because of his condition, but even my grandma doesn’t have any issues with anything I do. They treat me like a young adult, and I believe they view me as their equal. Since my mom skipped out on me, I became the one responsible for myself to ensure I don’t disappoint them, and that’s worked out for all of us.
Suffolk Academy is great, too. Apart from the few hiccups I’ve had with other students, I’ve settled in very well. I’m even popular in some groups, especially among the more popular seniors.
And everything keeps going like that, relatively smoothly… until I’m into the eighth week. Here, I’ve found myself in an unprecedented amount of trouble. So immense, it may cost me my enrollment.
We took our mid-semester exams in the sixth week, and I was hopeful about the results. The results came out the following week. These tests were my first test of academic prowess in a new school, and I’d been eager to see the results. They thrilled me when they finally came in, too. Katelyn and Ariel performed very well on their exams, as well, but my scores were more than I’d hoped for.
At first, we all moved on from the exam results pretty quickly, but this week is when I got brought up short. Our class was wrapped up in a discussion of an upcoming project just before lunchtime when a student from a junior class rushed into the classroom. She spoke to the teacher and left.
“Aleta Saunders,” the teacher called out in a stern voice as soon as he turned back to face us. My heart fell out of my chest when I heard my name. Just from his tone, this didn’t sound good. “The headmaster wants you in his office right away.”
It was definitely not good.
The headmaster doesn’t summon people in the middle of class if it’s not for something pretty bad.
I looked over at Katelyn to see her staring in my direction. In the next moment, her hand gripped mine as she whispered to me. “You’ll be fine, Aleta.”
I accepted the message, took a deep breath, and left my desk. As I headed towards the door, I heard a few giggles, and guess where they came from? Janyce and at least one of her little friends. I wanted to turn back and squeeze the life out of anyone giggling, but that obviously wasn’t an option.
Approaching the office, I wondered what could have gone wrong, but at that point, I couldn’t come up with anything. I’d been a model student since getting to this school. I hadn’t gotten involved in any trouble or broken any rules.
I wondered if maybe my grandma was here, but knew that was unlikely. She told me she had a few appointments to deal with today.
Sitting in the office and waiting for the headmaster, my heart raced. I’d be finding out my fate soon enough, but I had to sit with the secretary for a good ten minutes before he brought me in here, and by then I was an anxious wreck, each second passing like it was an eternity.
The person who finally came out of the office and gestured me inside was my Environmental Science teacher, Mr. Allen. The headmaster was looking through some papers as I walked into the offi
ce. He pointed to the chairs in front of his enormous desk, and then I sat for another couple of minutes before he said anything.
“Miss Saunders.”
“Yes, Headmaster Radforde?”
“How many weeks have you been in this school?”
I did a quick mental calculation. “Eight weeks, sir.”
“And that’s enough time for you to show off your fraudulent behaviors?”
His words threw me off. I didn’t understand what the headmaster meant by fraudulent. What could have happened? “Fraudulent? I don’t understand you, sir.”
“I feel the same way. I don’t understand these.” He handed me two sheets of paper. “Maybe you should explain the reason your grade went from thirty-three to forty to me—especially when your teacher doesn’t know about it.”
And that’s where I am now. In an immense amount of trouble because somehow, unreasonably and without any interference from me, my exam score in my first-block class changed. And all I can do is stare at the evidence in front of me, dying to understand as my heart races a marathon and sweat beads on my forehead.
The papers he’s given me are copies of my class’s results sheets for our big exam. I scored thirty-three out of a possible forty. The highest score in the class was thirty-five. I’ve never seen these sheets, but I can see what he’s seeing clearly. The second results sheet, dated today, shows that I scored a forty…which I did not. And this is the first I’ve heard of the score change.
“No other scores changed but yours, Miss Saunders,” he says, clearing his throat.
I am beyond confused, but I do know how bad this looks. “I know absolutely nothing about this, sir!”
“A fraud should at least be intelligent. How did your score increase, with you knowing nothing about it?”
“Sir, I am not a fraud!” I insist, frustration creeping into my voice “I have cheated no one in my entire life, and I wouldn’t know how to change scores like this even if I wanted to! But why would I? They announced the scores in class. Everyone heard that I scored a thirty-three. Heck, I was happy with a thirty-three! It would be a really dumb thing for me to change it, knowing people heard my score out loud.”
