Chapter Three—Boys Will be Boys

When I'm done with all my classes, Drew and Luke ask me to hang out with them before we left fourth period. And being the girl I am, I didn't feel like dealing with mean boys, so I readily agreed.

They told me to meet them up at the courtyard when all my classes we're finished, and wanting to change out of the itchy uniform, I decide to go change into my more comfortable clothes. When I get to my dorm, I'm thankful to see that no one's sitting on Christian's bed, waiting to make fun of me.

Tossing my shirt over my head, I change faster than I ever had in my life to avoid being caught wearing panties and a wrap to suppress my somewhat decent sized boobs. I'm just pulling my jeans over my butt when I hear the door open. In my haste to turn around and pull up my pants at the same time, I end up losing my balance and tripping over my own feet only to fall to the ground and hitting my head on my night stand in the process.

"Ow, ow, ow!" I moan as I lay on the ground with my palm over my forehead.

I feel a shadow looming over me and feel his presence before I've opened my eyes.

"Ooo, that looks really bad. Are you okay?" I hear his dreamy deep voice ask.

I squint one eye open and look up at him, thinking he's even more gorgeous upside down.

"Uhh, I . . . um . . . yeah, cool. I mean, yeah, I'm fine," I mutter sitting up and gently rubbing my fingers over my now sore forehead.

I sit up against the drawers of my night stand with my eyes closed as I will the pain to go away. When I open my eyes and look up again, I'm startled to see Christian squatting in front of me with a weird look on his face.

I frown at him, and then quickly look around in confusion. "What?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything for a moment and then slowly asks, "Why were you wearing pink underwear?"

My face burns bright red, and feeling mortified that he saw my underwear, I stand up completely ungracefully, kneeing him in the chin.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! I just—I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" I stutter as I reach out to help and then retract my hands knowing I'll probably end up hurting him more.

He stands up with his hand on his jaw, rubbing away the pain. I have to basically crane my head back just to look up at him. I mean come on, he's sixteen or seventeen, why is he so freaking tall? On second thought why am I so freaking short?

"So?" he asks.

I look up at him with startle, confused eyes. "So, what?"

"Why were you wearing pink—were those panties?"

My face burns again, and I turn away from him. "Um, I don't, uh, know, I like to feel supported, and you know, I don't like to feel myself . . . swinging around . . . and, um, actually I have to go. Luke and Drew are waiting for me. See you later. Bye!"

I practically run to the door, slamming it behind me and taking a moment to calm myself, I lean against the door and put my face in my hands. I can still feel myself blushing like a catholic school girl talking about sex.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You don't like to feel yourself swinging around? What the hell was that? I wonder if they really do swing around? Ugh, not the point! I just completely humiliated myself and I know Christian is going to think I'm ten times weirder than he thought before.

There is no possible way I'll be able to salvage my dignity after that one. I wonder if I can switch roommates? A room all to myself would be marvel. Maybe a little lonely too, but at least then I could change without anyone questioning me as to why I'm wearing panties. God, that was so humiliating and—

"Ahhh!"

I fall backward with a thud as the door suddenly swings open. I land right at Christian's feet and find myself looking up at him from an upside down point of view again.

"Uh, um, hey, bro," I say awkwardly with a lame wave of my hand.

His brows furrows and then for the first time in ever I see a smirk pull at his lips.

"What are you doing?" he asks me as he helps me up.

I pull my shirt down and run my fingers through my hair, still adjusting to the short straggly strands and stand like an out of place dork before him.

"I was just . . . thinking, um, I mean leaving."

I turn around abruptly and only make it a quarter of the way down the hall when I hear him call out to me.

"I'll come with you," he says, taking only a few steps with his gloriously long legs to catch up with me.

"Um, what?"

"I'm coming with you," he repeats while looking down at me expectantly.

A frown tugs my lips down. "Why? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your friends?"

He shrugs. "They're out right now doing some work or some shit like that," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Yeah, they're probably out planning my demise.

"And you don't have any other friends to hang out with?" I ask as we slowly begin walking down the hall.

He gives me a side glance, a brow raised in question. "Do you not want me to hang out with you or something?"

I shrug. "I didn't think you liked me enough to want to hang out with me." My face burns when I realize he could take the meaning of that the wrong way. "I mean, not like you like like me, you know, just like me as a friend and nothing more, because you're like a guy, and I'm a guy."

His laugh cuts me off and I look up at him almost as if in awe. His laugh is like angels playing harps, and the way his eyes crinkle . . . he's what my dreams are made of.

"I admit I do think you're a pretty weird dude, but you're cool I guess. I mean I have no real reason to dislike you," he says, and I lamely nod my head. "And by the way, there is such a thing as guys liking guys. It's called being gay."

I choke on my spit and then cough, roughly patting myself on the chest as he looks at me. For the thousandth time in ten minutes I feel my cheeks burn.

Clearing my throat with a nod, I say, "I knew that, I just, you know, um, I don't know."

He laughs again. "You're so awkward it's funny. And you say 'you know' a lot, just so you know," he says with a smirk.

This time I laugh, not only at his words but the look he gives me. He has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.

"By the way, I think I should apologize on behalf of Ethan and Colten. I should have spoken up when they told you the wrong class, but it's kinda like a ritual here that we do to new students. It's nothing personal."

"Sure didn't feel that way," I say under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, um, I said thank you," I lie, looking at him and then turning away just as fast as my words left my mouth.

"Uh huh." We're both quiet for a moment as we get closer to the courtyard. "So, why did your parents decide to send you to the most expensive all-boys school in Washington?"

I see him look at my outfit from the corner of my, obviously judging the fabric and how cheap it looks. Had it been anyone else judging me like that, I would have gotten super offended, but for some reason I don't think he asked me the question or is looking at me in a condescending way.

"I chose this school," I tell him.

"Really? Why?"

I shrug. "Just seems like a good school."

"It is," he agrees.

"Why did you come here?" I ask.

He runs his hand through his hair and I watch the way his bicep flexes against his short sleeve.

"Uh, it really wasn't discussed. It was kind of expected. Every male on my father's side since the school was built has come here. It's just a tradition, I guess," he explains.

"You don't sound really enthusiastic about that fact," I comment.

He half shrugs. "It's not that big of a deal, I mean, I would have liked to make the final decision where I get my education, but Westwood is a great school. I wouldn't get a better education anywhere else."

"Oh," I say with a nod of my head.

We don't say anymore as we approach the courtyard and I spot Drew and Luke sitting at a picnic table with a blonde headed girl and black headed girl. I frown. I didn't think girls were allowed on campus. I thought that was a rule, but I guess rules were meant to be broken.

Christian stops abruptly and I stop and frown up at him. "Why'd you stop?"

"That's Victoria Spencer there with Katherine Kavanagh," he says quietly, almost as if they're going to hear us.

Kavanagh? I wonder if she's related to Ethan. They have the same hue of blond hair, and when I look around Luke I can see she has the same green eyes. Yeah, definite possibility they're related, most likely siblings. I wonder if she's just as evil as he is.

"Yeah, so why'd you stop?" I ask.

He's staring at the black haired girl as he answers. "I've had a crush on her since elementary school."

I look over at the girl with the dark hair. She's laughing at something Drew has said, and when I get a good look at her smiling face I slowly feel my heart sink in my chest. She's beautiful, with her long wavy black hair, sparkling hazel eyes and fair skin, there's no comparison between us.

When I look up at Christian and see the way he's practically drooling over her, I feel my heart crack.

It's not like you ever had a chance with him anyway. Did you forget? You're supposed to be a BOY!

I sigh in disheartenment. A girl can dream, though, right?

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