I glanced over my shoulder as I walked past couples whispering in the aisles and a few scattered students who were clearly in the midst of a tutoring session judging by the furrowed brows and open textbooks.
Margo was sitting alone, as I’d known she would be. I took a heartbeat to look at her without her knowing. Like this, when she wasn’t frowning at me or avoiding my gaze—she was so pretty. Maybe not conventionally pretty. To an average observer, Margo might’ve even been called plain. But I knew better, and trust me when I say I knew that long before I caught sight of her in that torturously revealing swimsuit. No, I’d been trying to tease smiles out of this girl for years now because a smiling Margo was a sight to behold. She lit up in a way I’d never seen before, like she was filled with some internal lighting system that made her glow from the inside out. Her smile—her genuine smile—filled her eyes with laughter and she practically hummed with that unique energy of hers, the kind that made her impossible to ignore even when she was actively ignoring me.
So yeah, I’d been trying to catch glimpses of that smile ever since she backed away from our friendship. Or maybe I was the one who’d backed away. I didn’t know. All I knew was it happened gradually and slowly. No big falling out, but she stopped being a part of my day to day life, and while I knew I let it happen—or maybe I was responsible for it happening—I didn’t like it.
I’d never liked it.
It might not have happened overnight, but the realization was sudden. Like one day I’d looked around and realized I’d lost Margo. That she and I never talked anymore, we never laughed, we didn’t have any inside jokes. We were basically strangers who lived next door to one another and who just happened to have played in a wading pool together when we were in swim diapers.
That realization occurred sometime around freshman year. And ever since then I’d been trying to get her to talk to me, to be friendly and maybe even loosen up around me the way she did around Suzie and Matt.
And now it seemed that things had shifted between us once again while I wasn’t looking. Or no—correction. They’d shifted for me again. For the second time in our lives I couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened or how, but I’d started to look forward to those rare occurrences when we were seated next to each other or when we ran into one another in our driveways coming home from school or the game or practice or whatever. I got a weird flicker of excitement because unlike everyone else in my life she never said what I expected her to, she never did what anyone else would do. Most of all, I knew she’d say what she meant.
As I watched, she tugged on a strand of hair that had fallen out of her low ponytail and into her face. Her lips were pursed as she studied the book in front of her.
No, there was nothing plain about this girl. Nothing even remotely plain.
As if she could feel my stare, her gaze moved up and at the sight of me she noticeably stiffened. Straightening in her seat, that cute pursed-lip look of concentration fell into a frown.
I stifled a sigh. I should’ve been used to it now after two solid weeks of either frowns or pointed ignoring. But I wasn’t ready to give up on us just yet.
Us?
That voice I’d been ignoring for years taunted me.
What us?
I shook it off. We’d been friends once upon a time. What was to say we couldn’t again?
Her scowl, that’s what.
“Jason?” Her voice was all high-pitched with confusion as if the sight of me in the library was blowing her mind.
Contrary to all jock stereotypes everywhere, I wasn’t a bad student and I had been known to step foot inside the library. She looked around us as if someone might step forward and explain my presence. “What are you doing here?”
I walked closer and set my bookbag on the table. “I came to see you.”
She blinked. Then she shook her head quickly before saying, “I’m working at the moment.”
I sank into the seat opposite her. “I know. You’re my history tutor.”
She blinked so rapidly I thought maybe she’d gotten an eyelash in her eye or something. But then she seemed to get a hold of herself and she pressed her lips together in a fierce look that made me want to grin.
No one had ever looked at me like that. Like they’d strangle me if given half a chance. It was surprisingly cute.
“You’re my history student?” she hissed.
I saw then that she had a copy of my textbook before her so clearly someone had given her a heads up on the topic she was to tutor, albeit clearly not the name of her new pupil.
She glanced down and then back up, her voice coming out oddly stiff. “They just told me I had a student from European History. I took it last year and aced the class so I figured that’s why they chose me for this one.”
“Nope. I chose you.” I grinned. “I knew you’d be a great tutor.”
She studied me with narrowed eyes and I could practically see her mind working as the surprise wore off. “You knew I’d be your tutor?”
My smile never faded because, seriously, she was so cute when she was pissed. “I requested you.”
“You…you…” She pinched her lips together and exhaled through her nose. “I hate you so much right now.”
Yeah. She was freakin’ adorable. I pulled my textbook out as I gave her another smile. “You’ll get over it.”
She made a sort of growling sound that made me laugh—quietly, of course. We were in a library after all. I found the chapter that she was currently open to and gave my head a little shake. “And here I always thought you were so eager to help others.”
Her eyes narrowed and I couldn’t resist teasing her further just to see what she’d do.
“I always thought you were so sweet. Such a delicate flower.”
She let out a huff of air that was part exasperation, part annoyance, and I’d like to think part amusement, albeit reluctant. No one in their right mind would refer to this spitfire as a delicate flower. Sweet, maybe, but more like sweet and sassy than simpering and quiet.
She leaned forward with a fake smile. “You’ll get over it.”
I let out a laugh that was a little too loud and the people around us looked over. When I met her gaze again she had her lips pressed together and her eyes were still narrowed but this time I got the sense that she was actively trying not to laugh.
As if she could read my mind she arched her brows and shook her head. “Nope. Not gonna happen. You might be able to fool everyone else in this school into thinking you’re some sort of white hat wearing hero but you cannot charm me, Jason Connolly.”
I let out a little snort of amusement at that description. “White hat, huh? I always thought I had more of a knight-in-shining armor vibe going on.”
Her frown was exaggerated. “Never going to happen. I’m immune to your charms.”
“Never say never.”
She rolled her eyes but reached for the failed pop quiz I’d laid out between us as a weird sort of olive branch. She scanned it briefly, her eyes bright with new interest that was entirely academic. “Okay, fine,” she said, sliding the quiz back to me. “Let’s get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit.”
She arched a brow as she flipped open my book so we were on the same page. “You’re currently witnessing the cruel and unusual punishment that has me paying for your friends’ idiotic idea of a joke. Don’t tell me I ought to be happy about it.”
She met my gaze evenly and I tried not to flinch. She pointed to the chapter heading on my book. “Read this.” Then she sat back with folded arms. “You’re only my problem until next week. That’s when my punishment ends.”
I opened my mouth to make another flippant joke, but stopped. The fact that she was here being punished wasn’t funny, especially since she wasn’t the one who should’ve been paying. But I wasn’t about to get into all that, not now, at least, when for a half a second there it had felt like I was getting somewhere. So instead, I met her gaze and gave her a small smil
e that held no teasing. “Then I guess we’d better get started.”
Chapter Ten
Margo
As if this school year couldn’t get any worse.
The minute our tutoring time was up I started to gather my books together, trying to ignore Jason as he did the same.
Lesson learned. Ignoring Jason was impossible. He was a larger than life presence. I might as well try to ignore the fact that the sun was shining or that the sky was blue. Denying Jason’s presence was just as impossible.
After two weeks of attempting it, I knew this. I might’ve been able to avoid his gaze, but the more I tried to pretend he didn’t exist the more I was acutely aware of his presence. It had gotten to the point where I was pretty sure I had some sort of Jason sonar. You know like whales and dolphins? Even when he was out of my line of vision, I always knew when he was around.
Being so aware of the person I wanted to forget existed was annoying. More than annoying, it was aggravating—like having a splinter under your nail or a papercut that just kept getting split open every time you closed your hand into a fist.
And then Jason had to go and make it a million times worse.
I shot him a glare now as he threw his bag over his shoulder.
Jerk.
He met my glare with a smile. The smile. The one that had always done me in. The one that basically made my heart and my body curl up and say “stick a fork in me, I’m done.” I’d always been helpless in the face of it and right now the sight of it made me angrier than ever.
Why did he have to be so nice when I’d been being unbelievably rude to him for weeks?
It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t cool.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked. “Same time?”
I sighed and he apparently took that as a yes. “Great. See you then.”
I tried for a snarky comeback but all I got out was a huff of exasperation. Ugh. He was already wearing away my defenses and it had only been one tutoring session.
That was the thing I hated most about Jason Connolly. He made it impossible to hate him.
But when he was halfway to the library door, me following behind him, that was when I remembered. He was off to practice. He was about to go laugh it up with Joel and company while I drove me and Suzie home from our punishment.
Sure, I’d still head to band practice later, but I wouldn’t be first chair. I had to watch Becky lead my section until Ms. Horowitz believed I could be trusted again.
The unfairness of it all hit me like a fist in the gut. The halls were mostly empty since school was technically out but there were a few stragglers here and there, like Jason and I they were here for some sort of after-school activity.
“Have fun at practice,” I said in a taunting voice.
When he looked back at me he had the good grace to flinch. “Are you going to get first chair back?”
I stopped short just as we exited the library. I was stunned silent for a second as I absorbed the fact that Jason—the great and mighty star quarterback—had even remembered that I was first chair in the first place.
He stopped too, his brows arched in question, his gaze filled with genuine concern.
Dang it. Why couldn’t he just let me be pissed at him for once? Did he need to be liked that badly that he couldn’t just let me have my righteous indignation?
I shifted under that kind concern. “Um, I’ll get my spot back in time for next week’s away game.” I shrugged. “As long as I don’t get into any more trouble.”
He nodded and I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he shifted his bag on his shoulder again. He wanted to say something.
I didn’t want to hear it.
Okay, that was a lie. I was holding my breath which was a pretty big giveaway that I was anxiously waiting to hear what he was about to say. But I didn’t want to want to hear it.
It was a confusing moment of silence.
Until it was broken by Julia’s sweet, high-pitched voice calling out to us. “Hey Jason!”
He stiffened a bit at the sound of his name and then Julia was upon us—all five-foot-seven long-legged perfection, bounding over with a brilliant smile that rivaled Jason’s in charm and sweetness.
God, these two were ridiculously perfect when they stood side by side like that. It was almost too much pretty. Like Barbie and Ken had come to life and were smiling down at the rest of us broken toys with our imperfect toy bodies and our lackluster limp hair.
I turned away with a sigh that was admittedly filled with self-pity. But really. Sometimes life just was not fair, and being around these two was a vivid reminder of that.
But Julia—ever kind, ever inclusive Julia—wouldn’t let me go so fast. “Hey Margo.”
I turned back with a smile and wave, hoping that would be the end of it.
“Jay, are you going to Cara’s after the game on Friday?”
Jay. Jay? I’d never heard anyone call him anything other than Jason. I turned to see his response but he looked just as laidback as always. Maybe he liked the nickname. Maybe that was their thing.
I should leave, I really should. But some part of me, the sick, masochistic part, couldn’t tear my eyes away from the Barbie and Ken mating game going on in front of me.
Unfortunately, Jason didn’t seem content to let me watch from the sidelines. “Uh,” he said, glancing over at me. “I’m not sure yet.”
Julia seemed to pick up on the cue and her smile, while just a little less spectacular, was now aimed in my direction. “You should come too, Margo.”
I blinked a few times. Uh…what now?
Jay arched a brow at me and his lips were twitching with amusement at my surprise. “Yeah, Margo,” he said. “You should come.”
“No,” I said a little too quickly. Then in the face of Julia’s smile, I forced one of my own. “I mean, thanks but parties aren’t really my thing.” I started backing away as a fresh wave of humiliation hit me. It was a now vivid image in my head of me, half naked. At a party.
Was it my imagination or was Julia wincing on my behalf, most likely at the same memory.
I forced a joking tone as my feet backpedaled my butt out of there. “Not anymore, at least.” I gave a fake laugh that fooled no one. “I think I’ve had my fill of parties for a while. Like, you know…forever.”
Julia was nodding politely, her expression apologetic because of course she had to go and be nice in the face of my awkwardness. And Jason? Well, I couldn’t quite bring myself to look over at him. I could feel his eyes on me and that was bad enough.
With one last potentially psychotic smile I turned around and ran. Well, I walked quickly but my heart was still racing. By the time I caught up to Suzie, who’d just finished up a tutoring session of her own in the cafeteria, I was breathing quickly but had dropped the weird fakeness. I slowed my pace as she fell into step beside me.
Jason was gone. I didn’t have to think about him or his niceness or that smile or—
“How’d it go?” Suzie asked.
I opened my mouth to tell her everything and then shut it. I was so not going to obsess over Jason Connolly. Not today. Not anymore. “Fine,” I said. “You?”
She shrugged. “Fine.”
We walked in silence, neither of us having much to say nor much enthusiasm over anything, which was why Matt’s barely bound energy was such a shocker when we saw him waiting impatiently next to my car.
“You ready for this?” he asked as we reached him.
Suzie and I exchanged a look. Nope, she had no idea what was going on either.
“Ready for what?” she asked.
He was already on his phone, typing away. “I was going to email you the link but then I remembered that you don’t have phones,” he was muttering.
We waited impatiently until he finally shoved his phone under our noses—his browser was open to a website I’d never seen before. “GeekBook” was written across the top of the page in Grover High’s colors.
“Oh my gosh,”
Suzie breathed next to me. Then she grabbed it from his hands and scrolled through, gasping loudly at the photos—most of which Suzie had already shown us.
I slapped a hand over my mouth. “You didn’t,” I mumbled, too shocked to move my hand so the words were muffled.
“It’s great, right?” Matt said.
I looked up to see if he was serious.
He was.
I sighed in the face of his eager excitement. I guess I should have known. I should have seen this coming. Matt had been more bent out of shape than any of us over the past couple weeks as the #GeeksGoneWild hashtag not only didn’t die, like we’d hoped, but rather took on a life of its own.
Suzie let out a laugh beside me that had us both looking over at her. My sweet and quiet little friend was cackling with delight.
“This is awesome,” she said. She held up the phone to Matt. “Who is Socrates Brown?”
He grinned. “Me.” He looked over his shoulder like we might be under surveillance or something. “I created a site so we could use fake names. It’s just for the people who are…you know…”
He trailed off.
“Geeks?” I suggested.
“Losers?” Suzie said.
Matt frowned. “It’s for the people who are being victimized.”
I shared a look with Suzie. “I prefer geeks.”
“Me too.” She pursed her lips. “Victimized sounds so…”
“Pathetic,” I supplied.
She nodded.
“But that’s just it,” Matt said, snatching his phone back so he could hold it up proudly. “This is just for us. No one will get in trouble and we can get our revenge.”
“I love it,” Suzie said softly, she looked mesmerized by the screen in front of her and I got it. I really did. I mean, I loved seeing that awful picture of Joel next to a #GeeksGoneWild hashtag as much as anyone, but…
“Just for us,” I repeated, slightly horrified that he actually believed that to be true. Us, I knew, meant more than just me and Suzie. It meant all the outsiders in our school. Basically, anyone who wasn’t ridiculously popular and part of the pretty people crowd. Which meant, a large portion of the student body.
Love at First Fight (Geeks Gone Wild Book 1) Page 8
