I blinked, caught off guard by the hint of caution in her words. “Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Excellent. Now, I have meetings to attend, but my secretary will escort you to your first class. Do try to make a good impression.” With a small nod, Dr. Duvall turned gracefully on her heel and walked away, leaving me with a strange flutter in my chest—a mixture of admiration, nerves, and a sense that somehow, I felt I may have already fallen short of Dr. Duvall’s expectations.
By the time I had gotten checked in with the front office with my schedule and map of the school, I was walking into my chemistry lab about ten minutes late. Everyone looked up and eyed me carefully, scrutinizing my frizzy blondecurls down to my new brand-name shoes that still hurt my feet. The teacher stood at the front of the class with his bushy, gray-speckled black eyebrows raised, waiting for me to speak.
“Um, I’m new,” I stuttered nervously.
The teacher rolled his eyes. “And your name?”
Snickers echoed through the room like a tidal wave. My face flushed, and I looked down at the linoleum floor.
“Mari Pollard.”
The teacher picked up a piece of paper from his desk and skimmed it.
“Amaris?” he bellowed, his eyes looking up from his roster to me.
“Um, yes, but I go by Mari.”
“Your seat is over there, next to Mr. Gaines,” the teacher replied dismissively.
I nodded and then made my way over to my new seat. I never looked up to meet anyone’s eyes. I only stared at the floor and the new shoes that squeezed my big toe too tightly. My feet missed my old, worn boots.
I tried to slide into my chair as quietly as possible. Miserably, the opposite happened. The chair made an obnoxious scratching sound against the floor, causing even more giggles and more stares.
When I was sure no one was looking, I brought my eyes up to the front of the class.
The teacher was talking about a lab we would be doing Friday with our lab partner, who I realized was the boy sitting next to me. I carefully glanced his way and was shocked and embarrassed to find him staring back at me, dark green eyes shining.
Oh, shit.It was the same boy from this morning.
I blushed, darting my eyes back to my chemistry book, willing the Earth to open up and swallow me whole. He failed to stifle his deep chuckle, and I blushed even more, sinking deeper into my seat.So stupid.
I had gotten an even better look at him now that I was sitting so close. His brow deepened as he continued his scrutiny of me. I glanced at him again, noting how his dark hair curled just around his ears. His dark face was covered in stubble that on any other boy would look messy, but instead, made him look dangerous. Yes, this boy was trouble.
I blushed when I glanced at his eyes again. They were such a deep, dark green, reminding me of the frogs I used to catch when I was really little. Nana and I would take old Billy, our old stray pit bull, down to the creek and see who would catch the most frogs. I usually won, but now I think Nana had just let me win. Old Billy passed away the next summer, just after I had turned twelve.
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a deep, young voice.
“So, you’re new, huh?”
I glanced to my right and found the green-eyed boy with his right eyebrow raised. His left hand gracefully continued to take notes, while never taking his eyes off me.
His accent made it clear he must have been from the UK. Perhaps he was a new student too and would take pity on the new school freak and just leave me be.Please don’t be a douche.
“Uh . . . yeah,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down. The teacher, Mr. Phillips, was eyeing me vigilantly.
“Where from?” he asked. I was surprised he hadn’t dropped it but kept his eyes on me like this was important.
“Appling, Georgia,” I mumbled.
His face fell a bit. “Never heard of it.”
I cringed.
“Yeah, I get that a lot. It’s right outside of Augusta, two hours from Atlanta,” I replied, trying to get the taste of bitterness off my tongue.
“Oh, Augusta, huh? My dad has gone down there to watch the Masters once. Ever been?” he asked.
