Page 119 of Something Rad
Because apparently my mere presence was distracting her. My existence alone was going to drive her to her breaking point. I wassobothersome, that she had to put twenty-five feet of space between us.
I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses.
First, we had an argument over how I was crunching my Doritos (How does onenotcrunch Doritos?). Then, she forbade me fromlookingat her (Where was I supposed to look? We were sitting alone together at a table). Next, we had a minor (major) disagreement following my asking Cooper if she could stop clicking her pen (like, non-stop clicking–I thought I was going to go insane). Then, finally, when mybreathing, of all things, wasn't to her liking (Seriously?), Cooper declared she was sitting on her own for the rest of lunch today to work on her speech.
I get that she’s stressed. I know there’s a lot riding on this for her.Everything, really. But she has it in the bag. I don’t know how I know, but I just know.
She’s played her part perfectly throughout this whole month. There’s not a guy in this school that doesn’t look Cooper’s way when she walks past them–onmyarm, of course. But that just makes them look even more. Same for the girls. I couldn’t tell you if they love her or hate her, but theyenvyher. And that’s all that matters. The guys will vote for her because theywanther, and the girls will vote for her because they want tobeher.
Either way, in the end, she comes out on top.
Right where she belongs.
I look up at her again, but she doesn’t look at me. Cooper’s totally in her own bubble over there. Her gray eyes are glued to the notebook in front of her, her brows pulled together in concentration. She keeps alternating between writing, chewing on the top of her pen, and scratching out what she’s written. Usually in that order. On repeat.
I watch as a strand of hair falls from her scrunchie ponytail and into her line of sight. She blows the lock of hair away from her face as she reaches for her can of Jolt, taking a long sip. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure that’s the third one she’s had today. There’s no way that’s helping her nerves or her already testy temper. I consider saying something to her, but decide against it. She’ll just fight me on it, so there’s no point. Her speech is the day after tomorrow. I’ll let her focus on that.
Although, she might have some difficulty giving her speech if she doesn’t sleep for the next two nights due to all the caffeine she’s inhaling.
Whatever. She’s fine, I tell myself.
I stand up with a huff, crumpling my sandwich wrapper and Doritos bag into a ball before tossing it into the trash can on my way inside, not allowing myself to look back at Cooper as I do it.
After going to the bathroom, I stop at the vending machine in the hall on my way back outside. I dig a couple of coins out of my pocket, feeding them into the machine and hitting the button for Pepsi. I bend over to retrieve my soda from the little flap door at the bottom of the machine, and when I stand back up, I find myself face to face with Jesse Lamonte.
“Hey, Robbie,” he says.
My spine steels, and I try my best not to show how caught off guard I am on my face as I slide my headphones off my head. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
Jesse glances around before looking back at me. “Where’s your girl?”
I tilt my head at him, squeezing my can of Pepsi tightly in my hand. I don’t know why, but I didn’t like the look in his eyes when he asked me that. My first urge is to ask him,What’s it to you?But, after a deep breath, I relax slightly. “She’s outside.” I nod towards the door just behind him.
Jesse takes a step back, peering through the glass window on the door. I can see the moment his eyes lock on Cooper, and something about it makes my skin crawl. “What’s she doing out there?”
“Waiting for me to get back to her.”
It was the opposite of the truth, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Oh,” Jesse says, his lips pressing together. He throws one more look in her direction, and I feel my patience wearing dangerously thin.
“Why do you ask, Jesse? Don’t you have your own girl to worry about?”
“No reason,” he replies, completely ignoring my second question. “She just seems to be working really hard on something out there.”
“She’s always working really hard.” I flash him a fake grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me–”
Before I can get around him, Jesse’s hand shoots out to grip my arm. “Is it her speech?”
I turn my head slowly, my gaze cutting into him. I flick my eyes down to his hand on my arm, and he instantly drops it.
Smart man.
“And what if it is?” I ask him, my voice low.
Jesse shakes his head slowly. “C’mon, man.”
“What?” I question him.
