I smiled and exited the office. Once outside, I decided to take her advice. I should be able to find my first four classes before the bell for first period rings. At lunch, I’d find my last three classes, and that way I would be able to avoid sitting alone. I’d never eaten lunch alone, and I couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be.
As large as the campus was, I felt pretty confident in finding my way around. I remembered the building letters from my self-guided tour, and I found my locker with ease. Once I got it open, I started to unload all my crap into it. I put everything in there but my class schedule and a notebook. I slid my new phone in the front pocket of my jeans after turning it on Vibrate and head off to find my classes.
The first few classes were easy to find, and once I heard the first bell, I sprinted to my first-period class. I walked into the room and up to the teacher. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, wondering who I was. It was something I’d gotten used to since it’s been happening for the past twenty minutes. As large as the school was, with as many students as it could have, you would think that one new person would be hard to miss. I was sure that I would be able to stay in the shadows for a few weeks. I wanted to blend in, not stand out.
I was given a textbook for physics and was told to grab an available seat. I chose to sit at the front of the room, hopefully away from anyone who wanted to strike up a conversation. I was not feeling especially friendly. I was nervous, and more than anything, I felt completely alone.
As I took my seat, the last bell rings, and a few stragglers slid into class. I could feel my cell phone vibrate in my pocket, and I resisted the urge to take it out and check my messages. I hadn’t spoken to any of my friends since Thursday. I sent a mass email about my phone “breaking” and then a mass text with my new number when I replaced my phone Saturday morning. I was surprised that I didn’t receive any calls last night, or even a text, from any of my friends.
I know that all my friends went back to class today without me, and the thought alone broke my heart a little. I wondered what they were doing right now. With the time change, they were probably at lunch. I wondered who was texting me. As the last thought crossed my mind, I was pulled from my own little world into the land of the unknown and the start of my physics class.
During lunch, I made it a point to find my last three classes. I took my time wandering around the campus. I found the library and spent a few minutes checking it out. By the time I had accomplished everything I needed to, I only had about five minutes before the end of lunch, so I decided to head to my fifth period class.
I was the first to arrive, and thankfully, the teacher was already there. I was given a history book and found my seat, opening it up to avoid eye contact with anyone. Blend in! Blend in! It worked for the first few minutes until I felt someone tap me on the shoulder from behind. I turned to find an average-looking, tall and incredibly-built-looking guy in the seat behind me. He asked to borrow a pencil, and I handed him the one I had in my hand before turning back around without saying anything at all. Awkward!
I was extremely grateful that none of my teachers made us do the whole new-student tell-us-about-you introduction thing. That was until last period. I thought I was going to escape the miserable display, but as I tore off six too many pieces of toilet paper (yes, toilet paper), I was beginning to regret signing up for electives.
“Okay, you have six sheets of industrial strength TP. You have to tell us six things about yourself, and your name does not count.” My teacher was a little too excited about this. Of course, this was yearbook. I got excited just walking into this class at my last school, but back there I was the editor-in-chief. I was responsible for the damn thing, and now my baby was being taken over by someone else. I didn’t want to think about that because I knew who it was, and I knew that she was smiling about it. I wanted to smack that smile off her face and kick her little…
Focus! I was going to lose my mind dwelling on the past, wishing it was still the present and future. I was going to deal with this situation, like I have every other situation, and make the very best of it. I was going to love this class! Just as that last thought crossed my mind, I opened my mouth to speak—at the same moment, the door swung open, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
Chapter Four
As casually as possible, I averted my gaze from his. No sunglasses this time, and now I could see his beautiful eyes. I wanted to look deep inside of them, but I was supposed to be telling people about myself, and they were all staring at me, waiting. I wondered if they even noticed him come in. Was I the only one who noticed? I cleared my throat and looked back out around the room.
“Well,” I began, “I’m from Michigan.” I tossed one piece of “industrial strength” TP in the garbage can. “I moved here with my mom and little sister for my mom’s new job.” I toss another piece in the garbage can. “I was the editor of the yearbook at my old school, so hopefully I will be able to contribute here as well.”
I took a small breath before I continued. What else do I want to reveal about myself? “Um, I like to play tennis.” One more piece in the garbage can. Only two more pieces to go, but I was at a loss for words. “Uh…I…well, um...” I had revealed about as much as I want to, and the teacher could see that.
Ms. Phillips cleared her throat to draw the attention away from me. “Well, that’s enough for today, but once you feel a little more comfortable, you can share the rest with us. We have all been working together for a while now, and we are like a big incredibly dysfunctional family.” Her emphasis was on the dysfunctional part. She motions for me to take a seat, and as I’m about to sit down, he speaks up.
“Did you plan on telling us your name, or do we get to choose one for you?” he asks, his voice rich with sarcasm.
I turned to look at him, but that was a huge mistake. I could feel my throat tightening, and I needed to answer him before I lose my voice. “Oh, my name is Rebecca. Becca.” With that, I took my seat and tried to drown myself in whatever the teacher was going to talk about today. The problem was that she didn’t break out in a lecture. Instead, everyone got up and headed to the computers or out of the room, and I was left sitting by myself. Yearbook wasn’t about lectures; it was about the school, the people, the photos, and the layouts. They were all either gathering or inputting information to complete their book.
“Ethan, why don’t you give Becca a tour of the campus while I figure out what I need for you to work on next? I will have assignments for both of you tomorrow.” Ms. Phillips’s words made me take notice who was left with me in the classroom, and I cringed on the inside. I don’t know if being alone with him was the best idea. My body was hypersensitive to him. Even being in the same room with him was causing my heart rate to increase.
As I stood to grab my things, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I forgot to check my messages earlier, so I decided to check once I get out of the classroom. He was waiting for me at the door, holding it open, before I realized that I was just standing there staring at him like an idiot. I slid my bag further up my shoulder and slowly walked toward him.
When his eyes meet mine, I realized that they were the most amazing shade of emerald, and as I went to grab for my phone, I realized that I was playing with my ring again. His eyes were the exact same color. Crap!
Brad: Just wanted to wish you luck on your first day.
That was the first one I missed this morning from Brad.
Brad: Since you havent text me back i have to assume u r not talking to me.
That was the one I just missed.
It wasn’t that I was avoiding him. I just happened to be busy since the last time I talked to him. Who was I kidding? I was completely avoiding him. I was trying to make things easier by telling him to get back together with Claire, but it was making me miserable, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was trying to decide what I really wanted, and hearing his voice would make that decision harder for me. I knew the second I heard his voice I would f
old and tell him the truth. The truth would only make things more complicated. Today, as busy as it really has been, was the first day that I had not even thought about the situation. Until now that is.
The thought made me smile, and I realized that Ethan was staring at me and waiting to give me a tour. I snapped my phone closed without replying to his text and shoved it in my pocket.
“So where to first?” I tried to should nonchalant, but I thought I heard my voice squeak a little.
“Well, we can take a minute if you want to return your boyfriend’s text,” Ethan replied, sounding hesitant.
He was staring at me, waiting for my reply. Brad’s not my boyfriend, but he didn’t need to know that. I could live in the fantasy that he was if I wanted to. Why? I wanted to live in reality, and maybe eventually, I would find someone here that I want to date. Then I would have to go through the trouble of breaking up with my fake boyfriend. Maybe I have already found someone I want to date?
“No boyfriend, just a friend, and I can text them when I get home.” I was extra careful using the word “them” versus “him.”
“Okay, then let’s go for a little tour. How about we start at your locker and work our way toward the tennis courts? By the time we get there, school will be over, and we can hit for a while if you want.”
Straight to the point much? Holy crap, this guy is forward.
“Um, okay,” I replied with obvious shock in my voice. That was the best I could come up with. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hit around with him. How did he even know that I had my stuff with me?
He started to walk toward the stairs, and I followed him, eventually catching up to him and walking side by side. We made our way into the next building and grabbed my bag and purse out of my locker. As we walked toward the tennis courts, he gave me what was actually a pretty good tour, much better than the self-guided tour I gave myself.
Right before we got to the quad, we detoured into the last building and stopped at his locker. He grabbed a large bag and his car keys. I didn’t realize that I was staring at his chest until he cleared his throat. He had shut his locker and was waiting for me to move so that we could head to the courts. I felt the blush creep into my cheeks and turned quickly around. I walked out the doors, but no matter how fast I walked, I could feel his eyes on me and his body was close.
As we rounded the corner to the tennis courts, I came to an abrupt halt, and he slammed into me from behind. He grabbed onto my shoulder to make sure that I didn’t fall forward, and his touch ignited something deep in my body. I hadn’t realized that he was so close. I inhaled deeply and let it out. He was still standing only inches from my back. I wanted to turn around, but I was actually afraid of what might happen, of what I might do if I was that close to his face, his lips, his chest, his anything. I tried to move forward a few steps, but he still had his hand on my shoulders and was holding me in place.
“Just give it a few minutes, and the courts will clear. The class will go inside about ten minutes before the final bell rings.” As I turned to look at him, his hands slid down my arms to grip my wrists. I watched his hands as they glided down, and when I look up at him, he was smiling at me, of course.
“How is it that you can read my thoughts like that, and you don’t even know me?” I asked. I was completely out of breath and almost at a loss for words. This boy, this man, had me completely unraveling at the seams. No one has ever done this to me, not even Brad.
“Your body language gives you away most of the time.” Ethan smirked.
With that, I turned back around to see the class was headed inside, and so I headed down the walk to the courts.
As we were stepping inside the gate, I realized that this was the very spot we were the first time we met. It brought on some creepy feelings, and I gave a small shudder. He had been watching me practice that day, but I had never given any thought as to why he did. I didn’t realize that he must have come down here to practice himself.
“How old were you when you first started to play?” I asked. I had given away enough about myself today. I needed to focus on learning something about someone else.
“I’ve been playing since I was about five or six I guess. What about you?”
Back to me again. Crap!
“Same,” and I left it at that. It was the truth, but I didn’t feel the need to elaborate on it. The special coaches, special travel leagues, and special attention my parents paid me until the divorce was not something that I wanted to rehash with someone I barely knew. I threw all my stuff in a pile and pulled out a racket. I had planned on practicing after school today, but I had also planned on changing into something other than jeans and a sweatshirt. I had nowhere to keep extra balls except my sweatshirt pocket and that was going to be annoying.
“I am probably still going to be a little rusty. Do you mind if we just hit back and forth for a while? I worked my shoulder pretty good Saturday, and I don’t think I am fully recovered yet.” My voice cracked as I spoke. I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of him.
It was the truth. I had iced my shoulder most of the day on Sunday to keep the swelling and throbbing to a minimum. The sweatshirt today had more to do with hiding the swelling than the weather. It definitely didn’t have much to do with style. I was trying to blend in, not stand out. “Sure. I haven’t had much time to hit lately anyway, so this will be
a good workout for me too,” he replied with a smile, sounding sincere.
With that said, we volleyed for a while without saying a word. Before I knew it, my shoulder was killing me, and we had been there in utter silence for almost an hour. I had sweat dripping from my forehead, and I could feel it rolling down my back between my shoulder blades. I tossed my racket on top of my bag and ripped my sweatshirt off without giving any thought as to what I was wearing underneath—an incredibly see-through white tank that barely covered my midsection.
I rummaged around in my bag for the bottle of water I had left from lunch and finished it in just a few gulps. By the time I looked up to say thank you to Ethan, he was only inches from me, and his eyes were locked on mine. I backed up to get away from him, but he followed. Eventually, my back hit the fencing, and I had nowhere to go. His breathing was labored, and mine fell in stride with his. I was at a complete loss for words, and his eyes were doing all the communicating for him.
As he leaned down toward my mouth, I found myself leaning into him. When our lips met, it was like an electric charge. We both pulled back instantly, but just as quickly, our lips met again, hungrier this time. It only lasted a few minutes, but even after he pulled away, I could still feel his lips on mine. His hands were burning against the bare skin of my hips. I found myself wanting more, but he pulled away completely. He stepped back, and all I could do was stare. His eyes looked different. The green that I found myself getting lost in was not there anymore. His eyes had grown dark with need. It scared me just a little to think that I may be looking at him the same way. I had only known him, really known him, for a couple of hours, but it felt like longer. Those things that seem important—the little things people know about each other after years of friendship— were not important in that moment. The only thing I wanted from him right then was another kiss.
He turned slowly, gathered his things and began to walk out the gate. When he turned around to say something, his eyes now hidden behind his dark sunglasses, he noticed that I still hadn’t moved. I could feel his gaze slowly work its way first down then back up my body, and I shuddered. I could see that he wanted to say more, but all that came out was “See ya,” and then he was gone.
I took a moment to compose myself. Once the feeling returned to my legs, I gathered up my stuff and headed toward the parking lot. I got in my car and cranked up the air conditioning. It was only about sixty degrees outside, but my body was still on fire from his touch. Wow! That was the most amazing first day of school ever. That’s when my thoughts drifted back to my friends and to Brad and his text messages.
I pulled out my phone to see that I had missed a call from my mom and one from Brad. I called my mom first to let her know I was on my way home, and then I typed out a quick text to Brad saying I would call him later tonight. I had no sooner put my phone away, and it was ringing.
“Hey there,” I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. I was dreading this call more than anything. We hadn’t talked since Friday night, and I knew that things still felt unresolved for me. I knew what I wanted, what he wanted, but I was also aware that we couldn’t have it.
“Hey, did you get my texts?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to get caught on my cell the first day of school. I’m still in the parking lot, so I was going to call you when I got home.” That was the truth, mostly. I really wasn’t avoiding him, was I? I was trying to avoid the thoughts I was having of him more than anything.
“Why are you still at school? Isn’t it after four?” he asked, sounding somewhat concerned. I looked at my dash to see that he was right. Crap! “What are you doing there so late for?”
“I went to the courts after school. I didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably let you go and head home. I just told my mom I was on my way.” I tried to keep my voice flat, like being at school almost two extras hours was no big deal. “Can I call you when I get home?”
Holding On Page 5
