Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [54]
“Well, Emma, I was waiting for you to ask you something, but you’ve made me late for class. Always a troublemaker, huh? I’ll see you in English,” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he swiftly went to the door and opened it for me. I stood in the entranceway, dumbfounded—until I realized I had about three minutes to get to my basement locker, then back up to my third-floor class before getting a tardy slip. I raced away, barely beating Mrs. Urbealis to history class.
I was useless again in my classes, and told Jenn that I just didn’t feel well. At least this time, I looked the part. I was tired yet somehow full of a single-minded energy…I had to get to English, my only class with Brendan. The one thought raced through my mind: What did he have to ask me? Can I copy your English notes? Want to catch a movie with me? Want to start a fairy-tale romance with me? BTW, it might be doomed, k?
Finally, in English class, I felt like I could relax, because I knew my eyes would find that familiar face coming toward me, those eyes twinkling at me, that smile hiding more than it let on.
Brendan walked in late, of course, but still managed to beat Mr. Emerson. With just a nod and a smile in my direction, he slid into his desk and faced forward. Is that a snub? Another snub? I was furious. What did he want to ask me? And who does Brendan think he is, toying with me like this? I was too tired to think it through anymore, so my body reacted for me.
I kicked the back of his desk. The rubber bottom of my shoe didn’t make enough of a noise for anyone to notice, but his desk pitched forward a few inches. Brendan threw his left arm behind his seat, twisting around in his chair and staring at me with those green eyes, which I saw were sparkling, if a little stunned.
My eyes narrowed and I pursed my lips, giving him a dirty look.
Wordlessly, Brendan bit his bottom lip and a mischievous look crossed his handsome features. He quickly reached out his hand and grabbed my kneecap, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Hey!” I yelled. I wasn’t hurt—just surprised. I flicked my pen at him. It bounced off his shoulder and he laughed.
“Tsk, tsk, Emma,” Brendan admonished, wagging a finger at me. “Starting another fight. Has anyone ever told you that you’re an instigator?”
Before I could reply, he leaned in and in a low voice, said, “By the way, I’m out tomorrow, and leaving school right at lunch, so please try to not provoke any wars or attempt to take on the entire junior class.”
“I was just going to fight a few freshmen,” I retorted. “I can take them. They’re little and weak.”
“Okay then, just the freshmen,” he added, grinning. The entire front half of the classroom was listening to our back and forth verbal volleyball.
“Anyway, Emma, listen—” Brendan added, brushing his hair back off his forehead and giving a frustrated look at Mr. Emerson, who just walked in. “Damn it,” he said in a low voice. “Listen, I do want to talk to you, okay? It just would have been nice to do it without an audience. What’s your locker number?”
“Eight,” I groaned. “Lucky me, it’s in the basement.”
“Ouch.” Brendan laughed. “That sucks.”
I nodded my head in agreement, a little confused. Wow. Violence worked. I wonder if I kicked Mrs. Dell’s desk, I’d get an A in Latin.
Mr. Emerson started his lecture, and I fidgeted in my chair, feeling the weight of every single person’s eyes on me. Jenn poked me and I looked at her hesitantly. She pointed down to her notebook, where she wrote:
U better not try 2 tell me that U guys are not some secret couple. How could u not tell me?
I looked around for my pen, which I realized had rolled several feet away after it bounced off of Brendan’s shoulder. Jenn huffed exasperatedly, and handed me a spare pen.
I took it and wrote a hasty, We’re not!!!!! in reply to her note, underlining it for emphasis.
Well ur not so “secret” anymore.
I shrugged and Jenn gave me a look that clearly signaled, “This conversation isn’t over.” I sighed and turned my attention to the lecture.