Page 13 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
“Say what?”
She snorts. “You basically said my gaming is nothing compared to your football. Well, let me tell you something, hotshot, my gaming ismuch, muchbetter than your dumb sport.”
I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why do you keep twisting my words? I didn’t crap on your gaming. I just think you can do that after we’re done with the project.”
“Maybe I don’t want to wait until we’re done.” She whips around and struts down the hall.
I follow, the crowd inching behind me. Half the kids have scattered, maybe bored with the conversation. Or maybe they’re bored of me. Truth is, I wouldn’t mind them giving me some breathing room. I don’t like being in the center of attention, despite what others might think.
“Phoenix, stop walking,” I call. But she continues marching down the hallway. Not to class, since it’s a little too early for that. I don’t think she’s walking anywhere specific. She just wants to get away from me. “Can you please stop for a second?”
She presses her books to her chest before doing what I ask. “What do you want from me? The project? I told you I don’t care.”
I bend close and she flinches back. “Look, I can’t fail this class. Or any class.” I swallow. “I can’t lose football.”
She snorts.
“I’m serious, Phoenix.” My voice lowers to a whisper. “I uprooted my family from a good life back in L.A. My mom loved her job, but she gave it up so I could follow my dream. If I lose football, then I made her do all that for nothing.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please, Phoenix. This is very important to me.”
She purses her lips, her hands tugging her hair as if she’s suddenly uncomfortable. “Fine. We’ll meet after school.”
“Thanks. Mrs. Holden suggested we go to the art museum for inspiration. Meet me in the parking lot?”
Her eyes narrow. “I’d rather meet at the museum.”
I lift a brow. “Not interested in another ride on my bike?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to class.”
I can’t help but laugh as I watch her go.
“Ethan!” The crowd of girls rushes over to me, shouting many different things.
I keep my eyes on Phoenix until she vanishes into the classroom.
***
I check my texts as I wait for Phoenix to come. I’m sitting in the entrance to the museum, but she has yet to make an appearance. Maybe she lied and has no intention of coming.
My phone beeps and my eyes shoot to it. Charlotte wants to know how my day was. We text for a little bit before a shadow hovers above me. Glancing up, I find Phoenix standing there.
She waves her hand. “Don’t stop on my account.”
I slip my phone into my pocket. “Let’s start.”
She glances around. “What exactly are we doing?”
“Mrs. Holden said to pick an artist who speaks to you. Then we need to learn about his history and the history of the art.”
She puffs her cheeks. “Sounds complicated, but let’s go.” She nods toward the left. “You start at that end and I’ll start there. Pick someone you think is cool or interesting.”
“Or we can look at the paintings together.”
She twists her nose. “I’d rather not.”
“Why do you hate me?”
Her lips press into a tight line. Then she says, “I think I have enough reasons.”
