by Nicole Snow
He also gives everyone on his side a certain amount of protection from what I've gathered. Hugo never got close to Cal, and he became easy prey.
“Seriously, don't be scared of him, doll. Do stay out of his way. Tried to warn you when you got here. I can help.”
Great. So he's come to impress me by playing hero. No thanks.
I'm also done being a doormat for anyone today. Walking out and giving him the cold shoulder feels like an easy way to replenish the self-esteem I've hemorrhaged with the bully.
“Tell me if you change your mind, doll. We'll work something out.” His eyes aren't moving when they lock on, and the flush invading my skin just keeps growing.
I have to get out of here.
It's my turn to do the eye roll. Without saying anything, I pick my tray up, and pause just long enough to share another look with him before the blood rushes to my cheeks. “I'm old enough to take care of myself, thanks. If I ever need your advice, Cal, I'll ask.”
He doesn't say a word. But he watches me the entire time as I throw my trash away, drop the tray off, and head out for my evening classes. I resist the urge to turn around until the very end.
Of course, I do. How could I resist?
I'm just in time to see Chelle kick him under the table. He gives her a dirty look, stands, and heads back to his crew of jocks across the cafeteria.
Like I need this weirdo treating me like a damsel in distress, I think to myself, smiling for reasons I can't pin down as I head off to Pre-Calc.
I wish I'd taken more time then to appreciate the smiles we shared, however small. Months later, after the train wreck everyone took to calling 'the incident,' it's a miracle I ever learned to fake smile again.
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