Page 23 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
I smile and am about say hi, when her eyes narrow in fury. She slams a stack of papers on my desk.
I peer down at it, then look up at her.
“That’s the report,” she nearly spits, training those sharp eyes on mine. “Read it and be ready to present.”
She whirls around to leave, but I grab her wrist. She tries to yank out of my hold, her nostrils flaring like a bull. “What did I say abouttouchingme?”
I don’t let go, because I don’t want her to flee. “I thought we were going to write the report together.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to pull free again. “I changed my mind. Can you let go?”
The girls are still crowded around us, watching like we’re in some kind of soap opera.
“What happened?” I ask her. “I thought we—”
Her eyes grow even harder. “I don’t want anything to do with you, so don’t talk to me ever again.” She narrows her eyes. “Get me?”
I just gape at her. “I don’t understand…”
Her eyes flame. “Don’ttalk to me.” She jerks out of my grasp with so much force she stumbles back. Since she’s gone, the girls surround me again. I try to look through any space for Phoenix.
What…just happened?
Things went so well yesterday. She actually smiled at me. Was a tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. And I laughed. What changed between now and then?
The bell rings, but the girls don’t disperse. It’s not until the teacher walks in that they either escape to their classrooms or take their seats.
I glance down at the stack of papers. Phoenix titled it and placed both our names underneath. I flip through it, not paying attention to the teacher’s lesson. Phoenix did a good, thorough job, definitely A material. But why did she do it without me? We’re a team. Or at least, I thought we were.
My gaze sneaks to the left side of the room, where Phoenix sits with an indifferent expression on her face. At first glance, she seems pretty normal, bored with the lesson like most kids here. But as I study her, I see her lips are tense, eyes still hard.
As if she feels me watching her, her eyes snap in my direction and they narrow like she wants to throw me into a lion pit.
When there are fifteen minutes left to class, Mrs. Holden tells us to gather with our teams to work on the project. Most of the kids aren’t done yet, and if Phoenix wouldn’t have written the report on her own, we’d actually have something to do right now.
She pulls her phone out and thumbs through it. I watch her, waiting for her to either look at me or come over or something. But she doesn’t. So I head over to her and am about to drop down in the desk across from her, but she sticks out her leg, placing it on the seat.
“Phoenix,” I say.
She keeps her attention on her phone.
“We need to work on the project.”
Her head jerks up. “The project is finished. Are youthatdumb that you can’t even read a report?” She resumes playing with her phone.
I rake my hand through my hair. “Did I do something?”
She snorts.
I’m so tempted to throw her leg off that seat and sit down, but I don’t. Instead, I remain standing were I am, not taking my gaze off her.
“I told you I don’t want anything to do with you. So get lost,” she snaps.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, stand there.” She continues looking at her phone and I continue watching her.
I don’t know how much time passes before Mrs. Holden walks up to us. “Phoenix, Ethan, why aren’t you working on your project?”
