Right Kiss Wrong Guy
Page 14
I told myself this was a very, very dumb idea. I’m physically annoyed with myself for stooping this low. The world has come to a sad place, and the depths of Hell might actually be freezing over right now as I step into the main office before first period. Yes, I’m ordering a love gram.
Slowly I approach the back of the line heading to Mrs. Appleton’s desk and look at the people standing there. Austin Reed is near the front with Tyler. I pull the sunglasses propped on my head over my eyes and stare at the ground. I can’t have those two see me.
With the dark tinted shades, along with the dim lighting of the office, I’m practically blind. I know the simple solution would be to remove my sunglasses and stop acting as if I’m a famous actress avoiding the paparazzi. There aren’t cameras in here flashing to take my picture, but his two best friends are collecting love-grams and they’ll be passing by me any second. I do not want them telling my sister or anyone else for that matter they saw me in line to purchase a love-gram.
“Nice shades, Slim Shady,” a voice I recognize but also jolts me from my hiding pose.
I startle and turn around and slap Chase in the arm. “Ow. Damn it! Juliet that’s gonna leave a bruise.”
“Shhhhhh! Don’t say my name. I’m incognito.”
“Are you? You’re standing in line with sunglasses on. You look ridiculous. How the heck can you see right now?”
I scowl at him. “I can’t. Just zip it.”
He shakes his head. “Operation getting someone is going underway I see.”
What part of shush it does he not understand? I swear it’s like he’s trying to get me caught. I’m going to … wait a second. I’m going to use this to my advantage. I can totally lie and say I was just in line with Chase. Everyone knows I’ve been on an anti-love fest anyway.
I rip my sunglasses off and shove them into the side pocket of my backpack. Then I loop my arm with Chase’s.
“Um … what are you doing?” he asks.
“Hush. You’re my cover story.”
He glowers at me. “This is beyond dumb. I hope you know that.”
Pssshhhh. He knows nothing. This is totally brilliant.
Tyler and Austin pass by us and Tyler raises a brow. “Juliet, do my eyes deceive me? Are you in line to get a love gram? Who’s the lucky one?”
“I’m not getting one of those stupid things. Chase is. I’m just here because he asked.”
Chase grumbles next to me. “Liar,” he mutters.
I smile at Austin and Tyler. Austin nudges Tyler. “Come on man.”
“Good luck, Bud,” Ty says to Chase then he winks at me.
As soon as they exit Chase uncoils himself from me. “You’re a wicked person, Juliet.”
“I’m sorry. I needed you as a cover. Why are you in here if you aren’t getting any grams?”
He points over at the boxes of pictures. “Delivering photos. I saw you in line looking like a gangster instead of my usual brooding best friend.”
“I don’t brood!”
“Lately, you have been. Totally not a hot look for you.”
I narrow my eyes at Chase while moving up toward the front of the line. Mrs. Appleton’s voice sparks me out of my annoyance with Chase and back to the task at hand. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Appleton. May I please have one chocolate gram and one strawberry lollipop?”
“You certainly may, Dear. That’ll be two dollars please.” She hands me over the cards with the candies attached while I fork over two dollars.
I step out of line and start to write two messages to Jared but pause. “What if he recognizes my handwriting?”
Chase shrugs. I hand the pen to him. He stares at it for a minute then sighs. “You’re seriously pushing the friend line. What do you want it to say?”
I whisper what I want, and he scribbles the message down. Then he tosses the grams into the basket. “You owe me for this.”
“I know. I’ll buy you whatever video game you want,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I’ll cash in the favor when I’m ready, but it will not be a video game.”
Well, whatever it is I hope it’s not more than fifty bucks. I’ll be counting that as a Favor/Birthday/Christmas gift if it is.
We walk to class. He breaks off when he reaches his drafting class and I keep going to Chemistry. I hope Jared comes to his senses and asks for me to be his lab partner again. I can’t stand working with Dave Linch. He’s such an idiot for one. Two he thinks he’s the most beautiful person in the world and he’s not. Far from it.
I cringe as I enter the room and spot Jared sitting with Felicity. My dumb heart stutters and a growing pain swelters in the pit of my stomach. I tear my gaze from him and head to my empty table.
Mr. Samson walks over to my table as I shoulder off my bag onto one of the empty stools next to me. “Miss Valentine, Mr. Linch has decided that working with you is possibly a danger to his wellbeing. Did you threaten to maim him with one of your pencils?”
I hear the snickers fill the room as my face heats. Did I threaten that pig-headed moron? I totally did. He told me I should probably take a fashion tip from my sister and we could be the double-fun-twins. I simply told him if he said anything like that about me or my sister ever again I would severe his testicles with my pencil.
I take a deep breath and meet Mr. Samson’s disapproving expression. “I may have. He was making sexual suggestions toward me. I didn’t approve. When I asked him to knock it off he kept going so I threatened to make him ball-less.” I look down at my table as my entire body feels as if it’s on fire.
The whole class seems to erupt into full-on laughter. I’m afraid to lift my head and glance about the room. “That’s quite enough. Settle down class or I’ll start handing out detentions,” Mr. Samson says in a stern tone.
“Miss Valentine, I am at my wits end here. You apparently cannot work appropriately with Mr. Black nor could you work with Mr. Linch. I forbid students working by themselves. You will have a very rough road ahead of yourself young lady if you can’t compromise. If Mr. Linch’s actions on your account are true, please know I commend you for standing up to him. That kind of behavior is not tolerated in my classroom or this school. However, you still should have come directly to me and reported the problem instead of threatening another student.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“No other students are willing to switch partners, so it looks like you will have to work with me. You will be doing all the lab work and the math. Both will be due at the end of class just as everyone else. You will not receive double the grade because you are doing double the work. Everything you turn in from now on will be one grade. Unlike if you would have stuck to having a partner you would have had a chance to make up your grade if your experiment failed but all your calculations were correct.”
I nod.
“Do you agree to these terms?”
I nod again too afraid to speak.
“Bring all your stuff to my desk then.”
I gather my things and follow him with my head hung low. I feel exactly like a punished puppy when their own scolds them for chewing on something they shouldn’t have.
Mr. Samson continues to scold the class for all the things we’re going to be doing today. He also expresses how much he wants us to all pay attention. His remarks might be to the class as a whole, but I truly think that specific comment was directed at me.
He sets a timer on his desk and tells us all to begin. The only upside to working at Mr. Samson’s desk, I have all the ingredients I’ll need for each experiment already on my desk. I will not have to go over to any of the other areas and collect anything. Also, each flask is labeled. That means there is no need to put anything in order, but I still do it anyway.
The things that suck about working at Mr. Samson’s desk, he’s constantly peering over my shoulder, his non-minty breath fans in my direction causing my nose to wrinkle. He has this disgusting habit of clearing his throat. I can literally hear
the phlegm. I shudder each time.
I’d give anything for earbuds right now.
The timer on the clock is ticking away and I need to hurry because I still have an entire page of questions to answer. I throw all the chemicals into the glass and take notes on each color change, and reaction as I add each ingredient.
I glance over at the timer and instantly freak out. I literally have three minutes left to finish this damn worksheet. Where did the time go? Why does this experiment feel so rushed? Every other thing in here felt as if there were too much time. Did he purposely try to shorten the time to prove a point that I need a partner?
I refuse to ask or glare at my teacher. I shut off the burner and begin working through the list of questions. I reach problem number five and students approach with completed papers, stacking them neatly in the basket. How the hell are they even finished so fast?
Oh God! I can’t fail. I cannot fail! Mr. Samson stops lurking over my shoulder and Jared makes his way to the basket. “Juliet, are you okay?”
I start breathing hard. I feel like my lungs are failing on me. Why can’t I breathe?
“Juliet? Hey.” Jared comes around and I feel his hands grip my arms but my knees buckle. I fall limply against him and he whispers, “I got you. Calm down. Breathe. In and out. In and out.”
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Samson asks.
I’m inhaling and exhaling more like hyperventilating.
“I don’t think she’s feeling well,” I hear Jared say.
Suddenly my feet leave the ground and I’m pressed against a nice smelling brick. I didn’t know walls could smell this delightful but I kind of hope I find more like them. “I got you,” Jared says in a hushed tone.
“Ooooo-kkkk-ay.” I pant as I try to keep my eyes open.
“Juliet, you have to save your energy and breathe. Okay? No talking. Just breathe, baby.”
Did he just call me baby? No. He couldn’t have. I’m delusional. Can panic attacks cause this? I’ve only had three of these my whole life. All related to high pressured tests. I passed out the first time I took the SAT when I was in eighth grade. I was in an accelerated group that got to take that and the ACT while we were in middle school. My mom thought it was an excellent idea. Get a jump ahead of everyone else and see what’s on the test, this way if I bombed it I had a better understanding of how to prep for it next time.
I sat in a room full of seniors and juniors. I was the only idiot who took the bait that taking this test early was great. Two minutes in, I passed out. I came to, to someone in a dark blue uniform standing over me with an oxygen mask stuck to my face. One of the top ten embarrassing moments of my life.
I feel my body being squeezed tighter and then a brush of something across my forehead. “Juliet, you have to stay with me, baby. We’re almost there. I promise. You got to keep breathing.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jared
I walk up to Mr. Samson’s desk to turn in Felicity and my worksheet. Juliet is sweating. Her skin is paler than the piece of paper I’m laying into the basket. I ask her if she’s okay, but suddenly, she sways.
I bolt around the desk and catch her from falling. She’s sucking in air like a fish out of water. Shit! Is she asthmatic? I don’t remember her ever having an inhaler but maybe she never has to use it. Whatever the case I lift her in my arms and carry her down to the nurses’ station.
Mr. Samson tries to have me pass her off to another student, but I refuse to hand her over. I have her in my arms and I’m not letting her go. Her delicious citrus scent consumes me as I try to talk to her.
She mumbles but I need her to conserve her energy. I dare to brush my lips against her forehead. I shouldn’t be kissing her, but I need to. She needs to know how much I care about her.
“Baby, we’re almost there.” I don’t know why I keep calling her this, but I like how it sounds.
Nurse Hoxen observes me and then she examines Juliet cradled in my arms. “Set her on the table.”
I don’t exactly follow the order. I perch myself on the table while still holding onto Juliet. She’s breathing a little calmer now, but her eyes are closed.
Miss Hoxen shakes her head. “All right Mr. Black we will do it your way then. What happened to her?” she asks as she listens to her heartbeat through a stethoscope.
“She started sweating. Her skin paled then she began breathing hard like she couldn’t get any air in her lungs. She passed out immediately. I caught her before she took a dive to the floor.”
“What was she doing to cause this kind of episode?”
“We were in chemistry. She was working on the assignment by herself. She looked like she completed the experiment. I think she was working on the worksheet before she freaked out.”
The nurse made a noise. “This is Juliet, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“She’ll be okay. I just need to get her a little bit of oxygen, but she should be all right.”
“What happened to her?”
“My guess? She probably had an anxiety attack. It happens to overachievers. Sometimes it’s a big test. Sometimes a huge match. Some get it while they fill out a college application. Pressure builds, and they have an attack.”
“But … Juliet’s never had one in class before.”
She shrugs. “Like I said it can happen anytime even at random moments. Maybe this is the first time she had an episode. Maybe you never witnessed any of her others.” She places a mask around Juliet’s face.
Suddenly her eyes flutter open and she claws the mask off her mouth. “Where am I?” she rasps.
“The nurse’s office. You passed out in class,” I whisper to her. Then I stupidly brush my mouth against her forehead.
She tries peeling herself from me, but I hold onto her. She narrows her eyes, “Let me go.”
“No. You’re supposed to stay put so she can examine you. Now that you’re awake.”
Her stubbornness appears in her current expression, and usually, it’s adorable when she has that deep scowl of defiance going on. Right this instance though, it’s ticking me off. Why does she need to get away from me that bad?
She struggles against me and I glare at her. “Settle down. I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell her.
“Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday you will,” she mutters back.
I laugh because it’s better than arguing with her. “Oh baby, you have no idea.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Nope.”
Nurse Hoxen comes over and listens to Juliet’s heartbeat, possibly her breathing too. She examines her eyes and makes sure she didn’t sustain any head injuries in the last couple of days. Once Juliet informs her that she hasn’t we’re both dismissed. The bell to change classes sounds off as we’re heading back to the Chemistry room.
“Juliet, hold up a second,” I say.
She pauses but she looks antsy. “What? We’re going to be late.”
“Two minutes late to class isn’t going to kill either of our GPA’s.”
“No.” She frowns. “But me never having a chemistry partner might kill mine.”
“Is that why you freaked out?” I ask.
She nods. “I saw that egg timer ticking away and I just panicked. I thought Mr. Samson set that thing to go off earlier than usual to prove a point. Then the room started to cave in and I felt as if everyone was staring at me. Talking about what a failure I was and then you came over and asked me something, but the room spun.”
“Have you done that before?”
She nods again. “A few times. Never in school. Just um … first time I was drafted to play with the older girls for a soccer game. The second time was before SAT.”
I pull her into a hug and whisper in her heavenly scented hair. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
She leans away from me and glances up as students move past us in all different directions. “You can’t promise something like that, Jared.”
“Y
es, I can.”
She shakes her head and moves down the hall.
When I enter the class, Mr. Samson hands me a couple of love-grams. I hope to Jesus these aren’t from Rachel.
I read the first card on my way to my second-period class. “I miss you.” signed, Anonymously Yours. Did Kimber send this?
The second reads. “I’m glad you see me. I see you too.” Again, with the same signature.
The guys must be screwing with me or this really is from Kimber. If this is from Kimber, I need to tell her we’re on two different pages. She obviously feels more for me than I do her. Which isn’t fair to her. Only an asshole would keep stringing her along.
Juliet takes her seat in our next class and I really wish I didn’t switch. I wish she was beside me instead of Chase. As I’m glowering in my own stupid choices, the door to our room opens.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Juliet
I love his intense eyes and hate them at the same time. How can someone see you so clearly but be blind to how you’re feeling? Especially when it’s about them? Jared Black makes my heart go crazy, but I’ve got to stop this madness. He may have called me baby. He may have kissed my forehead. But the facts remain he’s possibly with Kimber and he purposely switched seats to get away from me.
That should be a clue right there that sending out those candy-grams to him was a dumb idea. No matter what Chase says.
“Why are you frowning?” Chase asks.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
I turn to him. “I don’t think this is going to work. He’s got a girlfriend. Sure, she’s a vapid human being and as shallow as they come but he’s dating her.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Of course, I’m sure about that. He was at our practice last night. And they sat at lunch together. A fair conclusion to all those signs would be he’s dating her.” I don’t mention that he called me baby or kissed my forehead. Those butterfly kisses we’re most likely a figment of my imagination.
Chase shoots a glare to the ceiling and then down to his desk.