CHAPTER NINE
Lunch is uneventful. We go off campus and grab a burger. By the time we get back, we’re scrambling to get our books for the next class—this one we don’t have together.
Calculus.
I have no idea if taking this class is a good idea, but when Dad and I got to the base in North Carolina, the school there tested me. A lot of them test my aptitude when we get to a new base. Let’s hope it’s accurate. I have no idea if California schools are more difficult than those on the East Coast.
No. No, no, no, no, no! Not again. How is this happening to me today? I’ve already reapplied deodorant three times and since Leo just walked in, it looks like I’ll be doing it a fourth.
Crap.
“Okay, class,” Mr. Geraghty begins, “this isn’t one of those classes where you get to choose your own seat.”
Wait. What? What the hell does he mean? Are we doing grade school in alpha— “We’ll be sitting in alphabetical order by last name. Let’s begin.” He begins with the A's, and Becks (as they call him) is in the fourth seat in the row by the windows. Lucky duck. He gets to daydream out the window when the numbers get to be too much.
“Jillian Fox.” I startle out of my reverie and—seriously, just fuck my life—I’m the fourth seat in the second row. Right next to Jack aka Becks aka Leo.
Okay, Karma. We are way more than even now.
He looks at me, directly this time, and when I take my seat, he doesn’t look away. I can’t handle this. All of this in one day—one day. I’m going to lose it.
I raise my hand and Mr. Geraghty nods at me. “May I please use the restroom?”
He gives me a look. “You should have done so on your lunch break, but yes. Take the pass.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and grab my small purse. It’s almost like a cosmetics case, but a little bigger. My deodorant is in there and so is my gum. I’ll need the deodorant for the sweat, and I’ll need the gum to keep my mouth busy, so I don’t go off on Jack—Leo. Damn it.
Why did he have to ruin it?I wonder as I look at myself in the mirror. I’m a wreck. My bangs are starting to absorb the sweat. Lovely.
I snag a couple paper towels from the dispenser and wipe my forehead. I wet them a bit and rub the cool paper between my breasts and around to the back of my neck. I lean my forehead against the cool mirror and just breathe, trying to calm down and resign myself to the fact I’m going to see him every day, I’m going to have to sit next to him, and I’m probably going to have to interact with him. He can be as hostile as he wants, but I’m not playing his game. Besides, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was honest about everything. That’s what’s confusing me the most—why isheangry atme?
I put some deodorant on, then zip my purse. I quickly wash my hands, realizing I’ve been in here quite a while. I hope Mr. Geraghty isn’t waiting to start class until I get back. Crap.
I open the door and step into the hall, and there he is. He’s leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, ankles crossed—and he’s staring at me with an intensity that confuses me. This is a new look, and one I’ve never encountered before.
“What are you doing here?”
He looks so casual and relaxed against those lockers, while I’m strung tighter than a bow.
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you waiting for me? Don’t you have more important people to fill your time?” I bite out.
He chuckles lightly.
Jackhole.
“Jill-ie,” he begins.
“That’s right. Jillie.”
He lifts a brow. “Why so hostile?”
“I should be asking you that question. You’re the one who’s been a jerk from the moment we saw one another this morning.”
