Page 12 of XO

I laugh because despite it all, he’s being somewhat of a gentle giant. Kevin is much taller than me, and when he playfully nudges my arm with his, I’m sent off-balance until he realizes his error and wraps his large hands around my shoulders to steady me.

“Shit. Sorry,” he says with his cheeks reddening. “I’m used to barging men out of my way, not someone as small as you.”

I smile, my icy heart thawing toward him. We take to the stairs in silence, but I break that with a probing question. “Did you even know who I was before today?”

He looks at me as if I’m mad. “Of course, I did. Only self-absorbed idiots like Chelsea don’t know who you are. Besides, I’m sure Jacob’s had a thing for you since like, well, ever.”

My heart skips a beat, and I don’t know why. “That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“He’s had it out for me for years, and that whole thing of ‘if a boy is treating you mean it must be because he likes you,’ bullshit, that simply isn’t true. He’s humiliated me on more occasions than I care to remember.”

“From what I hear, you’ve got him back just as bad.”

I think back to the time he removed all my textbooks from my backpack and replaced them with water balloons. I didn’t know until I was running from gym class to English having been the last to use the showers. The violent jostling motion caused the ten straining balloons to burst. Water gushed through the fabric and down the back of my jeans within a heartbeat of entering the classroom. Twenty-two students, including Jacob, watched as a waterfall landed at my feet. With mouths agape, I looked like a pregnant woman whose water had broken. Jacob, sitting in the third row, covered his mouth to hide his laugh, yet another successful prank on Rosie Reign to add to his belt. “I’m going to kill you, Jacob Lynch!” I yelled before my disruption earned me a detention slip.

My revenge had been simple. I’m not afraid of spiders but Jacob certainly is. In fact, afraid is an understatement. Garfield was Mr. Johnston’s pet tarantula who lived in his eco tank in the science room. One day, shortly after the water bombing incident, I was studying Garfield in class, knowing it was my turn to write observations. Jacob sat behind me protesting about having to be in the same room while observations happened. I waited until he made his first snide comment loud enough for me to hear.

Ensuring Garfield was happy sitting on my pencil case, I placed the faux spider I’d bought at the costume store on my hand and turned to my nemesis. He was about to claim victory for getting the reaction he wanted, when I swung my arm in his direction, sending the Garfield replica flying his way. Jacob immediately paled, eyes bulged, faced stricken with terror. He screamed, high-pitched and desperate. He threw his pen but missed his target by a good foot. Without thinking, he pushed away from the incoming spider until his lab stool gave out from under him and he, along with his shrieks of horror, disappeared behind the desk. His partner next to him, who’d spotted the motionless spider lying upturned on the floor, broke the news that it was indeed a fake.

Just like they had with me, the class roared with laughter at Jacob’s expense, while Garfield sat contented on my pencil case, and Mr. Johnson handed me yet another detention slip.

“No way. I wish,” I say to Kevin. Truth is, he deserves more than what I could ever manage. “And besides, boys like Jacob only go for girls like Chelsea. She’s every man’s wet dream. He would never go for someone who’s usually covered in paint…” I hold up my hands as evidence from this morning’s art class with oil paint that refuses to budge, “… or who spends her free time hanging out at theaters.”

“Chelsea’s a nice girl… when you know her…” He pauses and thinks for a few seconds then continues, “Hmmm … actually, she’s a bitch.” He laughs, and I smile at his honesty. “She’ll pretty much go for any guy wearing a football jacket. So, just because she’s easy, doesn’t mean every guy wants to fuck her.”

I screw my nose up at his assessment. “Gross.”

“Gross, but true.”

I feel eyes burning into me and when I turn, I notice Jacob staring down from the top of the stairs. He’s observing us with a blank expression. Kevin follows my gaze, and we watch as Chelsea possessively wraps her arms around Jacob’s waist before planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I didn’t realize they had that sort of relationship,” I say, determining it’s a thought that should have remained just that. The idea of Jacob sleeping with Chelsea isn’t a far-fetched one. Not one I’d like to entertain because, well, I won’t be able to look at him the same way again.

And which way is that, Rosie Reign?I inwardly roll my eyes at myself.

“I’m pretty sure they don’t,” Kevin replies, interrupting my thoughts. “But that’s not going to stop her from sinking her sharp claws into him until she does.”

~

“He simply wants the glory of being the only man who can tame a cantankerous woman,” Ms. Zagwich explains, making it her personal mission to get me excited for the play.

I swipe the bead of sweat dripping down my forehead, the spotlight burning even hotter than usual today. “So, you agree with me? Petruchio is for the most part a misogynist wanting to tame Kate for his own convenience and pride?”

“Yes, but—”

“What if she’s shrewdish because he’s gone out of his way to make her like that?” Jacob’s face comes in mind, and I wonder why I’m even thinking of the asshole who, as predicted, hasn’t turned up for rehearsal.

“Kate was a prude before she met him, so that’s—”

“He simply takes pride out of making her life a living hell with his constant pranks and sabotaging.”

Ms. Zagwich eyes me with concern. “I’m not sure if we’re still talking about the play, or… are we feeling okay, Rosie?”

I pull my shirt away from my body to allow some air through. “I’m fine. I’m just… just haven’t been feeling the best lately.”

“For a good few weeks now, you haven’t seemed quite yourself.”

---