Hey guys!
I know I said I probably wouldn't have an update before exams are over, but luckily for you (not so great for me) procrastination struck, so here's a chapter!
Reviews:
lorienlegacies96- First of all, never apologize for your imagination running wild. That's how great stuff happens! Plus I love hearing people's ideas. Second, that's a good idea and I might have something vaguely like that planned already? Not exactly to that extent though. Thanks for the review!
I.Wish.I.Could.Be.Number.Five- Do not say sorry for leaving long reviews, I actually love reading long reviews. It's really good to know that the friendships are actually interesting and it's reassuring to know that the romances are moving at a good speed. Your reviews always hit the spots I'm not so sure about with this story, so thank you for that :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!
navrina78- Thanks for the beautiful review! You don't know how glad I am that the friendships and group stuff is appreciated because it was something I was worried about. I'm happy the couple stuff is good also, and thanks for the good wishes on my exams! If I ever get around to studying some more they should go good :)
Somebody- That's a good idea and I always love to hear your guys' thoughts for the story. I have a different idea for the way it will go down and don't worry, it's coming, I promise. Thanks for the review and please keep coming with the ideas :)
Claire- Don't worry, there's quite a bit of Riley/Stanley in this chapter, and I'm really glad you like them. You've been reviewing this story for a while now so thanks so much for keeping with it :)
May- I just went back and realized that you were the first review ever on this story. Damn, you've been here a while, it's about time for a shoutout. Thanks so much for your continued support and I hope you continue to enjoy it!
Also thanks to the three guests that reviewed. I love reading what you guys think, and seriously appreciate any advice and comments I get :)
That's all from me, read on!
Stanley
I stare intensely at one spot on the wall in Mr. Collins' room. He's here too, explaining something about a math topic I should probably be paying attention to, but I've got better things to do. In my boredom, I've discovered that if I look at one spot long enough, my vision starts to narrow and it soon becomes all I can see. Even I have to admit, it's not the most effective way I've ever found to elevate my boredom in this class. But if the focus I put into this activity blocks out the droning sound that is my teacher's voice, it's worth it.
I keep staring, slightly irritated as Mr. Collins' voice starts to bleed into my consciousness. I put extra focus into my useless task and try to block out any spare words I'm catching.
"... because this will be on the test tomorrow."
My head shoots up so quickly that my desk moves an inch backwards from the force of it. A few heads turn at the noise but I don't care. There's a test tomorrow and I didn't even know about it.
During the next few minutes I try to absorb as much information as possible, but it's useless, I've missed too much. By the time he stops teaching I think I know less than when I decided to tune in. All I know right now is that I'm angry. Teachers can't just schedule tests they never gave us a chance to prepare for! It's unfair.
I turn to Riley as she starts to pack up, ready to voice my outrage.
"Yes, he told us about the test last week." She interrupts before I can even start. I don't comprehend at first and just keep staring at her with furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth. Riley puts her math book inside her binder, glancing at my expression. "It's been written on the white board since last Monday, and it's on the school website."
I keep staring at her similar to the way I was looking at the wall earlier, studying her to see if she's joking. "Uh... how?" I ask finally and desperately. "I didn't hear him say anything."
Riley closes her binder and shakes her head. She's probably trying not to be too amused since I'm sort of stressing. "Maybe if you stopped aggressively staring at the wall every class, you would have heard." She finally lets out a chuckle as she says that, but it does nothing to relieve my nerves. Of course she's calm. She's like the math goddess.
"Can you help me?" The words are out of my mouth before I can even think of saying them. Realizing what I said, I rush to add more senseless reasoning. "I mean, do you still do that tutoring thing? Because class is last period tomorrow so I could come down at lunch and uh... learn." I finish lamely.
"You should have uh... learned in class when he was teaching it." She replies. "And no, I have all my volunteer hours now so I don't need to tutor at lunch."
"Alright, you have all your volunteer hours, but do you have the satisfaction of helping humanity?" I counter. She raises her eyebrows in amused exasperation.
"By humanity, do you mean yourself?"
"Yes."
She cracks a smile and shakes her head. "Look, any other day you'd be able to come over, but I have a meeting thing after school today."
"Well how long is it?" I ask, embarrassingly desperate.
"Probably around fifteen minutes."
"That's great! I can just wait around." I grin at my solution and she shrugs, seeming to agree, which is nice considering I'm kind of asking a lot of her. "Can you also drive me there?"
She laughs. "You're relentless aren't you?"
I take it as a yes and lean back in my plastic chair, now overly relaxed due to the new probability of getting a passing grade. After the relief sets in, I start to actually comprehend the rest of the conversation, and I smirk. Riley looks confused.
"How'd you know I was staring at the wall all class?" I ask, arching an eyebrow. "Watching me?" If I said that sentence to any other girl I know what would happen. I'd get a giggle followed by a coy denial, maybe a casual hair flip.
Riley snorts. "I couldn't help it." She looks at me in mock seriousness, but I know it won't hold long. "I could actually feel the intensity radiating off of you."
I force my face into a steely gaze, tipping my chin up and looking down at her. "Intensity is my middle name." I say huskily.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" She laughs. "I bet your middle name is something really rugged. Something that just screams masculinity." She jokes. I feel my expression morph into a grimace and I look down. "Wow, is it that bad?" She asks in surprise.
"Yes." I say immediately.
"You have to tell me then." She orders.
"Why would I do that?"
"I'm teaching you math." She says, a rare challenging look in her eyes. "You owe me."
I let my breath hiss out of my teeth, because she has a point. Clenching my jaw, and looking at her out of the corner of my eye, I mutter, "Donald."
Her eyebrows pinch in and I realize she never heard. Not a surprise considering I barely got it out through my teeth. It doesn't make me any more excited to say it again. "What?" Riley asks.
"It's Donald." I say a bit louder, but definitely not too loud. It's not information I'm eager to broadcast.
Riley's eyebrows shoot up, and she bites her lip, no doubt trying to keep down a smile. "As in, the duck?" She asks.
"Yes."
She's silent for a moment, nodding slowly but a smile inching it's way over her lips. "That's not even bad." She chuckles, and I roll my eyes because laughing through her words is one of her lying tells. One of many.
"Oh whatever." I scoff, crossing my arms. She finally laughs properly then and I look away. "What's your middle name anyway? I bet it's equally as terrible." I mutter.
She nods but shrugs. "It is equally terrible, but for a different reason." She doesn't seems eager to share either, making me forget my embarrassment for a moment as curiosity takes its place.
"What is it?" I ask again.
Of course the bell has to ring at that exact moment and Riley laughs, picking up her books quicker than she usually does. "Oh come on! I need to know." I call. I try to get up as fast as her but end up hitting my legs off the desk.
"I'm sorry, but I really have to go." She walks backwards a couple steps, her lips pressed together in mock regret as she points behind her with her thumb. I glare and she lets out that lopsided grin.
Her victory doesn't last long though as her backwards steps cause her to run into someone behind her and the grin morphs into wide eyes of panic, an apology forming in her mouth before she even turns around. I laugh as she rushes to amend the situation, seeming to forget all about our mini argument. She can never seem to go long without incident.
Let's hope her driving is better than her balance.
-Page Break-
The hard wood of the bench presses into my back as I wait in the school lobby. It's only been ten minutes since the bell rang, but I'm already incredibly bored, my entire body slack as I slouch against the bench, eyes boring into the wall opposite me.
Thankfully it's only takes a couple more minutes until I hear footsteps sound up the otherwise silent corridor. I watch the opening of the hall until a figure makes an appearance. Riley raises an amused eyebrow at me.
"You look like a sulking child." She says. I let a smile out then, standing and holding the door open for her before she even gets to it. She thanks me as she walks through.
"What was your meeting about?" I ask as I walk beside her.
"Oh, it was just the sign-up for ROV." She explains. Probably anticipating my confusion, she quickly continues so I can make sense of it. "It stands for remotely operated vehicle, but it's basically just underwater robotics." I have to laugh at the word 'just' because it makes the topic of conversation sound not the least bit impressive.
"Nerd." I accuse childishly. She just shrugs, not denying it, which would be quite useless anyway. I rub my hands together. "Alright, where is this 'Mavis' I've heard so much about?" I ask. She grins appreciatively and points to a burgundy van not too far away from the curb. I can tell it's an old model just by looking at it, but it must be in good condition if it's still legally allowed on the road.
"There she is." Riley announces proudly.
The old dullness of the car paint is even more apparent as we approach the vehicle, and I start to take in the the dirt splashes and grim scratches on the van. Even from here, I can see that the seats are a beige felt, adding to the dated look.
"Can I put my bag in the back?" I ask her as we arrive at our transportation. I already have a hand on the handle as she says yes. I give it tug, but it won't move.
"Oh yeah, that door is a bit janky." Riley explains. I get out of the way as she comes around the side of me and positions her hand on the door handle. "You just need to give it a hard yank and-" She heaves her body back and the door slides open with a series on unhealthy squeaks. I raise an eyebrow but remain silent as I drop my school bag on the seat, closing the door as it emits the same concerning amount of creaks it did when it opened.
I put my hand on the passenger door handle and smirk at Riley as she makes her way around the front of the van. "Will this one let me in?" I tease.
"Uh, no actually." She chuckles. "The remote unlock doesn't work with that door. Don't know why, just give me a second..." she opens the drivers side door while I feel my brows furrow. Just one door doesn't work? Weird.
She hops into her seat and leans across the console to pull up on the locking mechanism, letting me in. The door only sounds a tad less worrying when I swing it open. I find the seat comfortable when I get in, and start to think that I shouldn't judge the van too quickly. It's sure to have redeeming qualities.
The van starts up with a surprising amount of ease for an old engine, the sound of static starting to emit through the speakers. Riley shakes her head and tries to change the channel, but all that comes out of it is the steady crackling of incoherent songs.
"Does it usually do that?" I ask.
"It works on and off." She shrugs. "I think the antenna is broken." My head snaps towards her as she tries to find a station that works. Did she just say antenna? "I usually just turn the volume down in case it decides it wants to work." She continues, my shock thankfully going unnoticed by her. I start discreetly looking for a time stamp somewhere on the vehicle. When was this thing made?
A creaking sound is audible when she changes the gear, like the vehicle is reluctant to take us anywhere. But it pulls out of the parking space without trouble, so I guess that's... confidence inspiring. The quiet sound of static doesn't bother me now as much as I thought it would. It's hardly audible anyway but my ears get used to the constant sound as we stop by the main road, waiting for an opening.
"Seatbelt?" She asks. I hurry to buckle up and then nod, prompting her to start looking up and down the road,
"How old is this thing?" I finally ask.
"Uh..." She appears to have to think about it. I'll admit, it's concerning that a person who memorized the freaking periodic table can't immediately remember the age of her vehicle. "Nine...? No ten years old." She says. The vehicle suddenly lurches forward, making my head hit the headrest and my arm hit the console as she makes the turn sharply.
"We're not in a rush." I say as I straighten back up in my seat.
She looks confused. "I know."
So she normally drives like this, I conclude with a very quick glance at her. I'm suddenly not sure if the condition of the van should be my biggest concern. But that thought feels foolish because deep inside, I know you have to be a safe driver to get your license, and Riley is no exception. I relax into the comfortable seat. See? It's a good seat! That's a plus, I tell myself.
A rough jolt startles me out of my thoughts and I grit my teeth as we go over a pothole, hoping it didn't cause any damage. Well, any more damage. But then I notice silence, and I'm confused about where the static went.
"Hm, I don't remember that being there. Must be a new one." Riley looks into the side mirror at what I assume to be the spot we just hit.
"Did the radio just cut out?" I ask.
"Oh yeah, it does that whenever I hit a hard bump." She explains casually. Suddenly the speakers cut back in, but a song filters through instead of static. Riley laughs. "Hey, the radio works again!"
"Great." I agree with what I hope to be a convincing display of enthusiasm. I doubt she would notice if I didn't sound honest enough by the way she's now contently listening to the music, tapping the steering wheel along with the beat of some dated song. "Ew." I complain in response to the music, crossing my arms.
"Yeah, Maren hates this station too." She admits, then laughs. "She calls it 'old people FM'."
"Well, I hate to say it but she's right."
Riley shrugs and I notice how her tapping fingers go uninterrupted as she talks. "You can change it if you want." She offers.
I reach forward and change the radio to a new music station, letting out an exaggeratedly relaxed sigh as a popular song plays over the speakers. Riley screws up her face, and I have to hold back a laugh because her expressions just make it so easy to know exactly where her mind is.
"You'll listen to this, but you won't listen to Billy Joel." She accuses.
"This is the number one song on the charts right now."
"So you just listen to it because everyone else does?"
"Pretty much, yeah." I smirk when I see her fingers tapping on the steering wheel again. "See? You like it."
"Billy Joel is better." She doesn't confirm nor deny my statement. I take it as a victory.
Though she claims the drive to her house is fifteen minutes long, it doesn't feel that long. Between talking to Riley and listening to the seemingly resurrected radio, I start to forget about the van's issues and even a little bit about her rough driving. Although it doesn't completely leave my mind, especially after a rather rocky parking job into the driveway of her house. Oddly, there's a strange mix of relief and disappointment when I step out of vehicle. I guess I can start to see it's charm.
The house is actually quite nice when we get inside. It has a weird mix of dated and new furniture, but it all seems to blend together nicely.
"I think Steph is having people over, so we can set up in my room." Riley explains, leading me down a hallway. I look into an open door as I pass. It turns out to be the bathroom, and a dripping sound draws my eyes to the bucket in the corner. I stop to watch a drop of water accumulate on the ceiling before dropping down with a small splash.
"You have a leak." I inform, starting to follow her again.
"Really? I thought we just put the bucket there for decoration." She deadpans, but it doesn't take long for her to send a small smirk over her shoulder as she faces a door. "We know it's there, we just don't want to call insurance on such a small problem."
"Stuff from the outside is not supposed to be inside." I say as she pushes the door open. "That seems like at least a medium-sized problem." Riley just shrugs and I follow her through the door.
I expected her room to look like her math notes; organized, neat, everything diverted into their own little categories. It's not. Instead of the immaculate living condition I was expecting, I find a bed with the comforter haphazardly pulled up over the pillows, and the edges of a hardwood floor littered with various forms of clutter, all seeming to serve their own purpose. It's a welcome sight to see a pile of books on a desk, because I was expected something like that. I'm a little shocked at the small amount though.
"This is messier than I expected." I admit. Riley makes a noise, which I can only take to be shocked or offended.
"I'm sure your room has mold for a carpet." She retorts.
"Ha, only in the corners." I counter smugly.
She aches an amused eyebrow, tame for her usually animated expressions. But then She laughs and I realize she must have been concentrating on holding it back. "That's not something you should be proud to say."
I shrug. "I take what I can get."
She shakes her head. "Make yourself comfortable." Riley gestures around the space. "I'm gonna go get a pillow chair uh... thingy."
She leaves before I can ask what exactly a 'pillow chair thingy' is, disappearing into the room directly across from her own. I drop my book bag on her bed and turn in a slow circle. I finally understand the lacking of books on her desk when I see the bookshelf standing tall on the wall adjacent to the door, so many books on the shelves I fear they may not be able to handle the weight.
I forget about preparing any notes and amble over the shelves, trying and failing to take in the expanse of the literary collection contained in such a small area. A chuckle comes from me when I start from the bottom and see the whole shelf dedicated to math books. She must have over fifty at least, some thin and some thicker than the width of my hand. How much math can one person read? The next shelf up is science. I pluck one from the shelf and look at the cover. 'Space: A Crash Course'. I shake my head, flipping it over and reading a couple words on the back, all of them looking more than a little nerdy. Typical.
I hear Riley step back in but don't look up from my examination. "Oh." She says flatly. "I see you've wasted no time snooping around."
"This is quite the impressive collection." I comment, ignoring the words that were meant to make me feel sheepish. They don't. I flip open to a random page in the book and frowning at all the words.
"I guess." She replies nonchalantly, also coming over. She taps the book in my hand. "That one is really good, teaches you a lot of stuff."
"Like what?" I question.
"Like... the elements in the sun or how a black hole is formed."
"How is a black hole formed?"
"You don't want to know."
I nod because she's probably right and she clears her throat. I notice with horror that she's starting to look at my bag on the bed, which holds my math book. Despite coming here for the purpose of learning the material in it, I find myself dreading the begins of such an activity.
"Why do you have so many math books?" I ask quickly, before she suggests we start the subject. "And don't say it's just because you like math, because I like cars but I don't know how to build an engine."
"Well I haven't read all of them."
"That wasn't the question."
She lets out a short but quiet sigh, scratching the side of her head. "When I was younger my Mom thought I was a math prodigy or something so she bought me all these books, and I've gotten through most of them but..." she trails off with a shrug.
"Aren't you kind of a math prodigy though?" I ask, bending down and pulling one off the shelf. "I mean, what the hell is all this? Do you actually understand this stuff?" I flip though the pages like I did before, and like before, she grabs the book from my hand and puts it back in the shelf.
"You need to understand the unit we're doing now. Stop trying to avoid your responsibilities." She teases, though slightly serious.
"I'm not avoiding my responsibilities." I argue. "Just prolonging them."
"Right, because that's so much better." Riley says sarcastically. "Come on we need-"
"Why is there a dent in your wall?" I interrupt. I'm usually not this perceptive, but it's amazing what you notice when you're trying to get out of something.
"I tripped." She answers. I stare at her blankly, then back at the dent.
"It's in the middle of the wall, where the hell were you going?"
"I don't know. Now lets start-"
"What's up with your alarm clock?" I point at her nightstand, where a sad looking digital clock perches, it's screen broken.
"Are you going to scrutinize everything in my room?" Riley mutters. Undeterred, I just smile at her until she sighs. "I'm not a morning person." She explains vaguely.
I chuckle and take another glance at the dent in the wall, beginning to think that the alarm clock might have something to do with it. With nothing else to say to distract her, I grab another book from a shelf, holding it away when Riley reaches out to take it.
"Feisty." I tease, smirking as I open the book to a random page. There's a lot of words on it and when I turn it over, I laugh at the title. "The Book of Useless facts, huh? I bet this is your favourite one."
Riley lets out a quiet sound which I think is supposed to be an annoyed sigh. But it's soft and short and if she was looking to achieve anything more than mild exasperation, she failed.
"How about I ask you a question." She proposes. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, shocked she's actually giving into the distraction. I'd be stupid to question it though, so I just let her speak. "Do you want to fail this math test?"
I shouldn't be so disappointed that she's getting us back on track, but I am. I've never been so intrigued by a bunch of books before and I doubt I ever will again. Maybe it's just because she owns them that I'm interested. "No Ma'm." I reply, placing the book back on the shelf, her eyes following my movements. She presses her lips together, looking conflicted.
"Okay then." She glances down at the shelf for a second before shaking her head, muttering about how the spine needs to facing outward as she changes its' position entirely. It's obvious I didn't put it back right and I find amusement in watching her as she fusses over her precious bookcase. She finishes, looking up and pointing to the bed. "Alright, now come on."
I know she's talking about the book bag on the bed, but a smirk is back on my face in an instant. "Someone's moving fast."
"Ugh, not like that." She complains as she makes her way there. I walk around the other side of the bed, the space between the mattress and the wall providing just enough room for me to walk.
"Hey, I'm not judging or anything." I continue. On the other side of the bed, Riley, who has taken the liberty of taking my math book out of my bag, raises her eyebrows. She's supposed to exasperated, but the corner of her mouth tugging up is far from hidden. I lean across the bed so my face is level with hers. "I like going fast."
I might say more if it suddenly didn't come to me about what I'm doing. I'm flirting. Like actual, shameless, I-didn't-come-here-for-the-tutoring, flirting. I know it's basically my one form of communication with girls, but somehow it feels wrong to lump Riley into that group. It's either I feel that she's too good to have to deal with this, or I know that I'd have to do more than say a few smooth words to win her over.
She's not embarrassed or flustered or anything else I would expect. She laughs, her annoyance behind her. My smirk turns into a grin.
"Well, that's great." She says optimistically. "Because we're going to just whip through these equations here." She pats the math book affectionately. Something else coming from my mouth stops me from rolling my eyes.
"We can whip through a few other things too, if you're lucky."
Stop saying things! My mind screams at me, and I agree wholeheartedly. Sadly, my mouth has yet to catch up to our decision.
Riley looks at me, her expression as flat as her personality will allow, which basically just means a small smile remains. "I thought you were ready to start." She chides, though obviously not offended. I thank whatever force above that she's not one to take me seriously.
"Oh come on, Pierce." I grin as she sits down against a pillow positioned upright on the wall. I shuffle sideways up the narrow space on the other side. "You should've known that I can't stay serious for too long. It's unhealthy for- Ohh, what's this?"
My foot nudges something under the bed and I immediately lean down to get a better look.
"Stanley-"
"Really, Pierce? You don't have enough talents already? You're musically inclined too?" I tease, noticing the familiar shape of a guitar case and starting to pull it out.
"I'm not." Riley replies. I pause and shoot her a weird look.
"Right." I say sarcastically. "I forgot that people who don't play instruments always have random guitars laying around."
"I'm not good." She corrects. "It's not even mine. I just learned a couple of chords when I was younger, but I gave it up a while ago."
"Why did you stop?" I lift the case onto the bed but she just looks somewhere north of my nosiness, the foot under her crossed legs absentmindedly kneading into the sheets.
"Lost interest I guess." She shrugs, a breathed laugh lacing her words. I look down so she can't see my frown. Laughing through her words is one of her lying tells.
"When did that happen?"
"When I around eleven."
I don't think to ask permission before I start unclipping the clasps on the case, opening it up to reveal a dark wood acoustic guitar. This time, I look at Riley before touching it.
"May I?"
She's now staring at the instrument like she can't take her eyes off it. "It's probably out of tune." She shrugs. "But go for it."
I strum down once and sure enough, it's out of tune just like she said. With some help from her, I get the strings tuned up as close to accurate as I can get, beginning to pick a melody. It's not even an actual song, just a little series of chords and a constant picking pattern that helps loosen my hands up.
"Oh wow, you're actually good." Riley seems surprised but I just shrug. Dad started me in lessons when I was ten, telling me it would help me when I was older. I hadn't understood what he meant back then, but now I know that his reasoning was so I could impress people; girls more specifically. At least that's what he tells me. I think he just wanted to keep music in the family.
I finish the warm-up, and try to think of a song Riley might like. I cycle through my brief knowledge of songs she's listened to and find my mind going back to 'old people FM'.
"You still good at guessing songs?" I ask.
"I thought your were too drunk to remember that." She says sceptically.
"It takes a lot of alcohol to get me to that point."
Riley chuckles but it sounds uneasy. Okay, maybe some things from that night are a bit hazy. Her reaction makes me wonder if she said anything she didn't want me to hear. She makes a waving gesture at me, looking at me pointedly. "Well, are you going to play or not?"
I just grin and start picking an easy pattern. Riley raises an eyebrow. "Thought you didn't like old songs."
"So you know what it is then?" I question, my picking uninterrupted since it's a pretty simple melody.
Riley scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Is that even a question? 'Dust in the wind' by Kansas." I roll my eyes at her smugness.
"You forgot the year." I say spitefully. She smiles in a way that lets me know my efforts to stump her are only in vain
"Nineteen seventy seven. Next." She's sitting up straight, obviously ready for me to continue. I'd be surprised at her contentment in this distraction if I wasn't so focused on keeping her mind off math.
Since I only know a couple of old songs, I switch back and forth between dated and modern music. She still gets it right, and I have no idea how. After a couple more songs, I set up for another old one.
"I'm not sure you can handle this one." I warn jokingly.
"Bring it on." She replies, a rare challenging spark in her eyes.
This time, I pull one of the last dated songs I know out of my arsenal. My instructor only taught me this type of music to make me "diverse" but this is one of the few old songs I enjoy playing and hearing. While it doesn't have a complicated picking pattern, the melody takes my fingers up the fret board and then all the way back down again. It's fun to play.
In my focus, I barely notice Riley's silence. It's only when I get to the chorus that I look up and see... not much of anything from her actually. Her legs are still crossed on the bed and she's still looking at the guitar, only her expression has changed. Her mouth no longer holds a smile and her eyes seem to be staring through the instrument. Even more shocking than the neutral replacement of her animated features, this is the only time since I've know her that she's not moving at all. Not a bouncing knee, not twiddling thumbs. Not even a tap.
I stop playing and she seems to snap out of it. "Blackbird. The Beatles. Nineteen sixty eight." She says quickly.
"What was that?" I ask bluntly.
"What was what?"
"That look."
"Oh." She shakes her head, smiling now like the other expression never even existed. "I haven't heard that song in a while, I just zoned out for a second." She cheerily picks up the math book again. "No more distractions okay? Let's do this." She nods at the guitar and I continue to look at her for moment, but she seems to be back to normal, her usual bubbly self as she flips through some pages in the math book.
I carefully put the guitar away and place it back under the bed, not wanting to tarnish whatever it is about it that seemed to have affected her. Maybe a memory or something?
Once I get back on the bed I suddenly become aware of just how nerdy Riley actually is. The 'pillow chair thingy' is a cushion in the shape of a seat back that she explains she only uses for studying, no exceptions. During the couple of minutes it takes us to set up, she collects a neat lap desk, a few highlighters, pens and pencils, and even this mini hole punch thing. She also asks me if I want to mark different sections with colour coded sticky tabs. I decline the offer.
I also notice that all of these things come from the same corner of the room, and begin to see that her room is actually very organized, it's just in the least obvious way possible.
"Are two calculators really necessary?" I groan when she adds them to the growing pile of supplies.
"One is a graphing calculator." She explains. Noticing my worried look, she quickly continues. "Not that we need one, I just thought we could graph some of the functions so it's easier for you to see where the numbers come from."
"Anything that makes it easier." I agree, which she seems excited about.
She holds the math book but places a notebook on the lap desk I'm holding. "Alright, so the main thing about this unit is building on what you already know about linear functions, and re-learning how to factor quadratics..."
After a few times of teaching me math, Riley has gotten good at condensing entire units into manageable chunks. It also helps that she explains everything in her own words and uses her own analogies and weird ways to remember stuff. Besides, she's far easier to listen to than our teacher and yes, I admit, easier to look at too. She explains y-axis' and x-axis' and how to find slope and vertex's and how the 'zeros' of the functions are rarely equal to zero. Who knew?
I enjoy it but it's more amusing than anything watching her get excited over the littlest things and then get even more excited to share the information with me, as though she feels like it's a crime I don't know. She seems to have a particular amount passion for the quadratic formula, which she claims to be a "beautiful piece of mathematics". I laugh because the words 'beautiful' and 'math' have never logically gone together in my mind. But then I notice how her eyes light up when she explains something new, and I find myself asking her questions just to see it happen again. And then in my mind, beauty and math have never fit together so well.
"So a parabola always has two x-intercepts?" I ask at one point.
She quickly corrects me with the same innocent enthusiasm that has me hiding a smile, and she turns a couple pages, pointing out a few functions that would differ from my assumption. In the middle of it, she seems to have an epiphany, grabbing her graphing calculator and typing letters and numbers in it like she's done it a thousand times.
"Here, look." Riley holds the device closer so I can see the screen. "The vertex is above the x-axis and since the parabola opens up, it would not have an x-intercept. So you would write that it had no solution." She explains.
It might just be her own excitement affecting me, but I find the image interesting. I chuckle. "Seems kind stupid though, to do all that work and just come up with nothing."
She laughs too. "You're not coming up with nothing, you're coming up with an answer."
"Which just happens to be nothing."
"No, it happens to be the information that there is no answer." She seems to rethink it. "Well, unless you want to get into imaginary numbers, but that's a little confusing."
Seeming to have another idea, she takes back the device and works another equation into it. It looks to be the same line, only the parabola opens down and some of it is reflected on the horizontal axis. I feel her lean on my shoulder as she shows me the screen, but I don't think she's aware she's doing it. "It's an absolute value function. All the numbers are positive so there are no negative y values. Everything just kind of gets reflected back."
Her excitement must be infectious because I find a grin on my own face as I look down at it. "You know, this is actually pretty cool." I admit. I don't think I'd ever say that sentence to anyone else when math is involved, but Riley seems to appreciate it.
"I know right? And don't even get me started on reciprocal functions." She sighs wistfully and I laugh, thoroughly content with watching her geek out over her favourite subject. She's almost giddy, like a kid. She notices too and I watch as a red tinge spreads across her cheeks, realizing that she was a little caught up in it. She chuckles, the pressure of her weight on my shoulder leaving as she sits up straighter. "Sorry, I just find it interesting. We should get back to what you actually need to know."
"The other stuff is so much better though." I whine. I also wouldn't mind having her closer again either.
"Don't worry, you'll have lots of time for that in university." She teases. I huff as she replaces the graphing calculator with the regular one.
"Why aren't you in advanced math?" I ask, genuinely confused. She could probably teach the class herself at this point.
She shrugs. "I had a lot of tutors when I was younger, so I kind of got tired of being forced to learn it. Really, I've only gone two levels up in math since I was eleven, but I had already learned grade twelve math by then anyway." She says like it's nothing.
"What happened at eleven?" I ask.
Her eyebrows furrow. "Uh, not much. Why?"
"Well you stopped playing guitar then, and you didn't do much with math anymore." I point out. "It just seems weird to have two interests go at once."
She just shrugs. "I guess it's a coincidence." She points to an equation on the page with the back of her pencil. "Factor that one for me."
I sigh but do as she says anyway, deciding not to restart my short rebellion from earlier. Thankfully I don't need to though because after a couple more questions, Riley claims that I know enough to get a good grade on the test. I'm not about to question her judgment, especially when it involves getting out of more work. Plus it's six o'clock now so I've been here almost four hours.
"Can I ask you one more question?" I ask as she starts to pack up all of her little studying devices.
She raises an eyebrow at me. "Does it have to do with math, or scrutinizing my room some more?"
"Neither." I laugh.
She feigns surprise. "Oh, then by all means, carry on."
She takes the lap desk from me and I sit up, pulling my book bag toward me. "Who's guitar is that if it isn't yours?" I grab the math book with one hand and hold my bag open with the other.
"It was my Dad's." Riley says as she takes some things to what seems to be the study material corner. At first I take in the information normally, but then it hits me.
Oh. She said was.
"Is he...?" I don't want to say it, but thankfully she knows what I mean.
"Yeah, a few years ago." She drops off the stuff, nothing in her voice hinting that it's a sensitive topic, even though it should be.
"Sorry." I apologize immediately, stopping my progress with packing my bag. I feel like an ass. The last person who played that guitar might have been her Dad, and I opened it without even asking first.
She just shrugs, coming back over to collect more things off the bed. "Thanks, but it happened awhile ago so..." She trails off casually, and it strikes me how matter-of-fact she's acting about the whole thing. She talks about it like the weather or something. Hell, my drunken speech about the dead Mother I can't even remember was more dramatic than this.
Even weirder still, there's nothing around the house that hinted at anything other than the life she has now. There's no family photos, no urns or pictures to commemorate the dead. Nope, the house is completely devoid of anything like that. Weird.
Riley looks over at me and then at the bag. "You gonna put that away?" She asks, amused, and I realize the math book is still in my hand. She chuckles as I drop it in and I watch as she heads over to the door, looking like she's listening for something.
"What is it?" I ask. I hold off on zippering up my bag since I don't want disrupt whatever she's trying to accomplish.
"I just want to know how many people are over." She explains. Just then there's a chorus of laughter from the living room/kitchen, and it sounds like a lot of people.
"Don't like your sister's friends?" I ask, taking the opportunity to zip the bag up.
"I don't like the noise her friends make." She corrects, wincing softly as another burst of noise seeps through the walls.
"Well, I hope you enjoy that. I'll be leaving."
"Yes. Save yourself." She remarks dramatically. I laugh as I pick up my school bag, and I'm relieved to see a smile on her face, telling me she's not too torn up about the situation. "Come on, I'll run you home." She opens the door and I walk through when she gestures for me to go first.
I throw the bag over one of my shoulders while we walk the couple of steps it takes to get to the living room. Once I get there I see that there are about ten people in the house, mingling back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. It's not many people considering the amount of noise we were hearing.
We quickly pull our shoes on and go out the door before I face my second encounter with the janky van. It seems that fearing for my life has a sequel. I put my seatbelt on immediately this time.
"My sister's boyfriend was in there." Riley says as she pulls out of the driveway. Her lips press together as she says it, like the words leave a bad aftertaste.
"Is he that bad?" I chuckle.
"No no, he's great actually."
I blink at her confused. "So what's the problem then?" She looks at me for a moment before turning on her left blinker as we approach an intersection.
"Well, him and Steph both sleep in the same room." She pauses, clearing her throat. "The walls are thin, Stanley."
I can't help a laugh because she seems so innocent, but I guess living with just one young adult can get a bit interesting as a bystander. It makes me wonder where her Mom is, though I won't ask. I feel like I've already asked too much of her today anyway.
It seems that the radio has decided to keep living for the time being, and I notice a song quietly filtering through the speakers, still on the station I chose. Riley doesn't comment on it, though I switch it over to the station she likes anyway. I don't know the song that comes out, but then Riley smiles and I don't mind.
"Thought it's only fair since I got the choice of music on the way over." I explain.
She snorts. "Well, I'm glad I have your permission considering it's my van." She rolls her eyes but even in the dark I can see her fighting a smile.
"Don't get all entitled on me now, Pierce." I chide.
"Is that what you're calling me now?" She laughs. "What? I suddenly don't have a first name?"
She takes a sharp turn but I just grin through it, even when I have to brace my arm against the door. "Nope." I say simply.
She sighs and shakes her head as she keeps driving, the light from street lamps catching in her eyes as she smiles. I don't know the song that's playing and I doubt I would like it if not for the present moment, when the girl next to me is tapping on the steering wheel and mouthing the words.
Maybe this old crap isn't too bad.
Maren
The gymnasium is far too loud for my liking at the moment. The entire school is packed in here for the results of the ticket selling contest, and it's crowded to say the least. I got here first and managed to find a spot on the back wall that I've been saving since I know I'll be joined soon.
Unfortunately, Stanley is the first to show up, and he knows it. The stupid smirk is on his face as he struts over, and I know that while I'd rather stay silent, he'll definitely have something to say.
"Looks like we're the first here, Sweetheart." He observes.
"Obviously." I mutter as he leans on the wall next to me like there's not a better place for him to go.
He pays no attention to my comment, contently crossing his arms and even sighing a little as he leans his head back on the wall as if it's the most comfortable position in the world. Cockiness radiates from him as it always does, but this time I know it's because he takes pleasure in the fact that he's annoying me and there's nothing I can do about it. Well technically I could move, but my pride wouldn't allow that, so I just stare stubbornly ahead.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" He suddenly asks.
I don't look at him as I answer. "I'd really rather you didn't."
"Oh come on, Sweetheart. Can't you pretend that you don't hate me for like two seconds?"
"No."
He just shrugs. He was most likely expecting that answer. "Well I'm gonna ask anyway so you may as be civil."
"This is civil." I dismiss, but he pays no mind to it.
"What's Riley's middle name?" The question surprises me and I actually look at him then. He's already looking down. "What? She won't tell me."
I smirk. Figures. "What's your middle name?" I counter. His face falls and he looks away.
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Well I guess you're out of luck then." I shrug and turn my head to the front of the gym too. He's silent for a few moments.
"Did you know she plays guitar?"
What kind of stupid question is that? "Yes." I say, deciding to keep the peace. "She doesn't anymore." I add.
"Yeah, I know."
I don't ask how he knows since I don't really want to keep the conversation going, but Stanley seems to have different ideas.
"Why'd she stop?"
I give him a look. "Why don't you ask her?" God this guy is seriously annoying. Just because we have one common link to talk about doesn't mean we should talk. And why does he expect me to know all the answers anyway? I mean, I do, but that isn't the point.
"I did." He defends. It's not a surprise considering he doesn't seem to care all that much about what he says. "But she's kind of secretive."
I hold back a laugh at that because he's actually being serious. Riley is the most open person ever, and if he can't see that much then he's even dumber than I thought.
"Secretive? Really?" I chuckle. Stanley's eyebrows furrow and he looks so confused even I feel pity for him. And then I sigh, because I can't believe I'm actually going to continue a conversation with him that doesn't involve a string of insults. "Riley is an open book, Stanley."
He looks down at me doubtfully. "Really." He says sceptically.
I chuckle. How someone actually be so clueless? "She'll tell you literally anything you want to know." I say, turning my head so I actually look at him as I'm talking. I can't help but be amused at his interest. "All you need to do is ask the right questions."
He seems to think on that for a minute, staring straight ahead and nodding slowly. I assume information takes a while for him to process so I let him take his time. After a few seconds, he grins again, looking down at me with obviously smugness.
"What?" I ask kind of defensively. It's like he knows something I don't.
"See? It wasn't so hard to be nice to me, was it?"
My lips press together when I realize that he's exactly right. I was nice to him. I gave him advice and answered his questions with minimal amount of bitterness. I look away stubbornly and he laughs, nudging my arm with his elbow.
"Oh, how utterly shocked you must be to find out you actually have a heart in there." He teases.
"I suppose you'll feel the same way if you ever discover a brain inside you." I retort.
He laughs again, seeming to appreciate the back and forth for once. I'm barely containing a smile too, but he'll never know that.
Up ahead I notice Riley and Marina enter through the doorway, they must have had a class together. Stanley notices too.
"Please tell me."
"No."
"Come on!"
"Sorry, you're out of luck."
"I'll give you twenty bucks."
I pause with my mouth open, ready to spew off another denial, but twenty bucks does sound pretty good. Stanley grins triumphantly at my hesitation.
"Aha! There we go. Now what is it?"
"Didn't you say you'd give me money?"
His expression turns into a look of disbelief. "Right now?" He asks, gesturing up to where Marina and Riley are getting closer, having spotted us. "But she's right there."
I shrug. "You better hurry up then." I wave to my friends as they make their progress, smiling as Stanley huffs and pulls his wallet out of his pocket with more aggression than necessary.
He yanks out a twenty and thrusts it at me. "It's Grace." I state easily, pulling the bill from his hand and quickly shoving it my back pocket.
His eyebrows furrow and I can tell he doesn't get the irony. But thanks to Riley's naturally tragic timing, she manages to trip over somebody's bag at that exact moment, stumbling into Marina. The latter rolls her eyes as Riley profusely apologizes to whoever she's effected this time.
"Oh wow, yeah. That's uh..." Stanley laughs and crosses his arms, his amusement leading me to believe that he's already related that incident to her accidental occurrences of the past. "That's unfortunate." He finishes, shaking his head.
"It's better than mine." I admit. His head snaps to me.
"What's yours?" He asks. I shake my head and he smirks. "Will twenty bucks do it?"
"Not a chance."
"Worth a try." He gives up easily this time, knowing that the chances of me giving up the information are slim to none. His cocky expression only grows as our friends come closer, but it doesn't look that different from normal anyway.
"Nice entrance, Pierce." He says, then dramatically adds, "Or should I say Miss Grace?"
Immediately her eyes snap to me. "You told him." She accuses.
"He gave me twenty bucks." I explain.
Riley opens her mouth, but then closes it just as quickly. She seems to debate it for a second before shrugging. "That's fair actually." I knew she wouldn't be angry anyway. It's not like her middle name is a closely guarded secret or anything. Now if she told him my middle name, my attitude would be much different.
"No." Stanley corrects. "It's ironic as hell."
"Yeah Yeah I know, tragic middle name. Got it." Riley rolls her eyes. It's kind of amazing just how many jokes can be made from one middle name, but she knows the extent because between Marina and I, she must have heard them all. I don't know if it's insanity or not, but she amazingly still has a sense of humour about it.
"You're right, I don't think I've ever heard anything so tragic."
"Oh please, because Donald is so much better."
Stanley's mouth drops open and so does mine. Wow, he really did not have room to scrutinize anything with a middle name like Donald. And I thought Kelly was bad. Marina tries to hide a smile by looking down. Stanley looks completely betrayed.
"As in the duck?" I ask.
Riley points at me. "That's what I said!"
I can't be bothered to try and stifle my amusement like Marina, laughing as he glares ahead at nothing. A heartbreaker of a guy who shares his name with a cartoon duck. That's what's tragic. He turns to me, looking slightly mortified but mostly just tired.
"I want my twenty bucks back." He demands.
"I'm good with keeping it actually."
I grin when he sighs, suddenly turning his eyes toward Riley.
"I resent you."
"Oh come on. It's only fair."
"It's not fair, it's very unfair actually-"
"Oh look! Joseph is here!" Riley interrupts him with a little too much enthusiasm. Marina's head twists in the direction of the doors before the words are even out of Riley's mouth.
"Calm down, he's not going anywhere." I tease.
Marina looks back, a little red, but not as embarrassed as she used to be. She rolls her eyes and leans against the wall on the other side of me, mimicking my crossed arms. "I know that." She says.
"Oh, and John is here too."
This time it's my head that turns at Riley's words, my eyes catching him walking in beside Joseph. He easily steps over bags and books on the floor and spots us in an instant. He waves and points us out to Joseph as they both start to make their way over.
"Calm down." Marina says quietly next to me, noting my interest. Her tone is the same one I used. "He's not going anywhere."
My eyes flash to hers, shocked at first because she seems to know more about my interests then I do. Then, stupidly, I can't find anything to say. No denials spew from my mouth and no snarky remarks come to mind. I curse myself for just standing there dumbly, especially when I see Marina's smile and I know she has her suspicions. Although I also know that neither Riley or her would ever say anything about it until I open up the conversation. I'm thankful for that because I certainly wouldn't know what to say if they were demanding answers from me now. But they don't.
"I know that." I repeat what Marina said and she laughs lightly, leaving the conversation for another time.
"Hello fellow Garde!" Joseph says cheerily when he stands in front of us. He's grinning and I almost wince at the optimism of this guy. "Ready to win second place?"
I don't want to respond in fear that any words that come from my mouth may be the polar opposite of his attitude. Don't get me wrong, I like him, I'm just not used to being around that much... brightness.
"You betcha." Riley replies just as cheerily, the only one out of all of us to humour him. He seems to appreciate it, pointing at her.
"See? That is the kind of positivity this team needs!" He holds out his hand and they high-five very enthusiastically.
John looks at Riley. "Don't encourage him."
Marina rolls her eyes. "Like he needs encouragement to be like this."
Joseph gasps, putting a hand on his chest. "Insulted by my own girlfriend. I feel betrayed."
"Tragic." I supply.
I see Stanley straighten next to me, interrupting whatever Joseph was about to continue on with, like my voice reminded him of something. "Oh! I forgot to tell you guys, but I have big news." He says with pride.
John looks at me and raises his eyebrows with an otherwise flat expression. 'Doubt it' the look reads. I feel a smile tug at my mouth and I nod. Agreed.
"Me and Maren bonded."
I nearly choke on nothing but my shock. The smile dies on my lips and my head snaps toward Stanley. He's smirking.
"Oh, that is big news." John grins at my reaction, crossing his arms. "When did this happen?" He asks with obvious amusement.
"When I find out I'll let you know." I tell him. Joseph looks extremely interested.
Marina looks sceptical. "Just so you know, bribing someone for information does not count as bonding."
Joseph's mouth drops open. "You got money for talking to him?" He exclaims in what seems to be outrage. He looks at Stanley. "And here I was hanging out with you all these years for free!"
Joseph seems proud of his retort for a second until Stanley pushes himself from the wall, easily standing a couple inches taller and looking a hell of a lot more intimidating.
"Everybody have a seat!"
The voice of our principle rings through the gym, and I hear Joseph sigh in relief over the noise. There's no chairs in the gym so we all take a seat on the floor, but not before Joseph, Riley and John squeeze into the limited space we have in our spot. John ends up next to me, and I'm thankful for the buffer between Stanley and I, but a bit less satisfied about his closeness to me, which is another distraction all together.
"Alright, lets get this started then..." Our principle continues with the assembly once everyone is seated and relatively quiet.
She starts talking about how proud she is of the money we raised and what it's going towards and I know it'll take a while to get to the actual awards. I stretch out my legs and rest the back of my head against the wall behind me. I hope I don't get too uncomfortable by the time this is over, but I have my doubts.
Next is the random awards, where they basically just pick names out of a bucket to figure out who wins some crappy prize. In my opinion, the effort it takes to get to the stage to receive those awards isn't worth it, so I'm happy when I'm not picked.
Next is the class awards, where the homeroom that sold the most tickets gets a pizza party. Then comes the individual awards until after about forty five minutes of waiting, she gets to the group awards.
"That's us." John nudges me when she calls the category, and I think about rolling my eyes at him until I realize it's a valid assumption that I could be zoned out. He probably had to wake Stanley up.
"You guys have your speeches prepared?" Riley asks as our principle goes on about the success of the teams this year. "I mean, it's a pretty big deal. It's like the Oscars or something."
John shrugs. "I was actually getting more of an Emmys vibe, but maybe that's just me."
"I don't don't know what you're talking about. This is exactly like the Oscars." I add sarcastically. John laughs and Riley leans her head back on the wall with a grin, probably glad I decided to continue her nonsense.
"It's a big deal." She muses.
"Huge." John agrees. "You'll have to carry the team if we win though. I don't think any of us have speeches prepared."
"Oh, don't worry, I've totally got this." Riley clears her throat before taking a dramatic pause, placing a hand on her heart. "First, I would like to thank the academy..."
I roll my eyes and John snorts.
"And the food in my fridge deserves a special thanks, for keeping me alive... because that's ideal." She nods slowly, seeming to run out of ideas already. "Oh and the rain, for always showering me in support."
"Shh, she's announcing third place." Stanley interrupts us from the other side of John, but it doesn't stop Riley from cracking a smile at her own pun.
Up at the front of the gym, our principle gets a drum roll from the audience before announcing, "And third place goes to..." She reads the card and sighs, seemingly disappointed. "Mogadore Sucks." She says flatly. A group of people from the front of the gym cheer and stand up, hugging each other like they actually did win an Oscar.
"Ugh, that's what we should have named our team!" Stanley exclaims and I don't disagree.
It turns out that team wins a few movie tickets and a day off school to go to the theatre in the mall. It's not a bad prize, but doesn't exactly compare to the other two. Once they're done celebrating and have collected their prize, she continues on.
"Second place goes to..." another drum roll sounds when she gestures for one. All of our team is paying attention now. This is what we did this for after all. "The lions."
Even I feel a little disappointed when another teams jumps up and cheers after their name is called. And did this team actually name themselves after our sport teams? They may not have the most creative name but they're obviously better at selling tickets because they're collecting their prize at the front of the gym, and we're still leaning against the wall.
"Wow, I thought we had it." Stanley sighs with obvious disappointment.
"Oh well." John shrugs. "You can't win them all."
"That's shitty advice." Stanley dismisses.
Over his sulking, I barely hear another drum roll start until it's in full swing, the principle holding a card in front of her.
"The Garde!"
None of us jump up or clap for a moment. Instead, we all blink at her, wondering if we heard right. I hear Riley asking Marina if that was for first place, and Marina nods. John and I share a confused look until a cheer sounds from my left, loud compared to the relative silence of the gym. Joseph is the only one from our team standing up, but doesn't seem to be ashamed of it in the least. He turns around, waving at us to get up.
"Come on, we're going skiing!" He says excitedly.
I don't think Marina is prepared to be pulled up but Joseph doesn't seem to care, grabbing her hands and getting her standing while the rest of us pick ourselves up with varying degrees of willingness.
"I guess we don't know our own strength." Stanley comments, dusting himself off as we make our way to the front of the gym. Whatever surprise he was wearing before washes away and all that's left is that constant cocky grin as proceed to the front of the gym. He's clearly pleased with the result.
We don't get tickets for the ski lodge since I'm pretty sure it was booked online. Instead we all get a schedule of what dates we're going to be gone, and what time we will leave. It's over Christmas break. I don't like that we'll have to take a bus.
We head back to our spot and wait for the assembly to be over. Since it took up most of two periods, they just let us go early. In the tight quarters of the exiting crowd, I find John by my side.
"So skiing should be fun." He says optimistically, probably noticing my lack of excitement toward the prospect. He doesn't ask straight up why I have the attitude towards it, but somehow I know that's what he was aiming for with his comment.
"I don't know how to ski." I explain shortly. I look around for anyone else but they seem to have gotten lost in the crowd.
"Well I do." He says, and there's no smugness in it. "I can teach you."
"Thanks, but I was going to do snowboarding anyway."
He narrows his eyes at me and I raise my eyebrows. "Are you doubting my skills as a teacher?"
"Maybe." I say. He lets out an annoyed noise. "Besides, snowboarding just seems more natural." I defend.
"More natural?" He repeats. "No, it's very unnatural for your feet to be strapped together, I don't care what anyone says."
"I bet you're just jealous because you can't do it."
"I could if I tried." He sniffs, and I have to laugh at his offended ruse. "But you know what? Do whatever you want. I can't stop you if you're so inclined to strap a piece of wood on your feet and call it fun, you neanderthal." He flaps a hand at me and I roll my eyes. His vocabulary always seems to expand when he's trying to act snobby, and it helps him pull the act off well. "It's fine though, because I'm just going to enjoy the experience."
"Of what? Skiing?"
"No." He smiles. It's a smug one. "Of finally being better than you at something."
I let out a huff through my nose and John's grin stretches wide. We follow the mass of students through the gym doorway and head to the set that provides us an escape from the building.
"As long as you don't forget everything I'm better at than you." I retort.
He laughs and looks ahead. "Wouldn't dream of it."
We reach the doors and head outside. I can't see Riley and Marina anywhere and since the latter is my ride, I pull to the side to wait. John notices and turns his head.
"It's going to be fun, Maren." He says, his grin full of excitement and words full of optimism. He turns around so he walks backwards, facing me with handsome face and deep blue eyes on full display. "You'll see." He adds confidently.
I breath out a chuckle as he turns back around, leaning my back against the bricks of the school wall as I watch him go.
Yeah, I'll see.
Alrighty, that is all for this chapter.
By the way, I know I can't even keep up with this story but I was thinking about starting another one? It wouldn't be an actual plot line story, just one-shots or something to get out my spare ideas before they disappear. And it wouldn't interfere with my updating for this story, kind of like a side project. Anyway, I was just thinking so let me know what you think of it.
Thanks for reading, and I'll be back sometime after exams!