Page 24 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
“Already finished,” Phoenix tells her before I have a chance to talk. She lifts her eyes to meet the teacher’s.
A surprised expression fills Mrs. Holden’s face. “Really? That’s great. You two will present tomorrow, then.” She grins at Phoenix. “And you were worried about working with Ethan. I’m proud of you both.” She walks off.
I’m not shocked that she didn’t want to work with me. I didn’t want to team up with her, either. But after yesterday, I was glad we were partners. Now, though? I’m not sure.
“Why are you still here?” she nearly barks.
This time, I do gently shove her leg off the desk across and sit down. “Because I’m not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”
She rolls her eyes. “Your existence is what you did wrong.”
“What?”
“Just leave me alone. We’re done with the project and after we present it to the class, I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
I blink at her. “Deal with me?”
“Get the heck away from me or I’ll tell everyone you hurt me. Then you can kiss your dumb football dreams goodbye.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, then slowly get to my feet. “Fine,” I say, not hiding the anger from my voice. “Glad to.” Istalk back to my seat, plopping down and reading through the report, familiarizing myself with it and preparing to present. The least I can gain from all this crap is a good grade.
My eyes don’t stop trekking in her direction, no matter how many times I order them not to. I’ve got no clue what’s up with this girl, why she hates me all of a sudden. But I can’t worry about it, because that will only distract me from the things that matter to me, like football.
She doesn’t look at me once, and when the bell rings, she dashes out of the room like a cheetah.
Chapter Nine
Katie
It’s such a relief that things are back to normal between Eric and me. Band practice went so well last night—I think we played better than ever. Cody smiled more times than I can count, and Ethan was on such a high he killed it on the bass. My vocals were superb and Eric…well, he was perfect in every way.
I’m so excited forBeauty and the Beastrehearsal after school. I can’t wait to make magic on stage with my Beast. I’ve had good chemistry opposite other actors before, but it feels different with Eric. Special. I know the audience will love us on opening night.
But unfortunately, I still have a long way to go until classes are over. I wish I had a remote control to fast forward time.
After my third class of the day, I stop off at my locker to pick up some books, grumbling because I’m so not in the mood for all these lessons. I just want to perform. That’s my dream—to spend the rest of my life on stage, with nothing else getting in the way.
I close my locker and head toward the bathroom.
Harper is surrounded by her friends at her locker. They’re all dressed in the red and yellow cheerleading uniform. As I pass them, Harper gives me a hard glare. I tear my gaze away from her and look straight ahead, trying not to hold my head too high. I mean, I don’t want to be a jerk about the whole thing. Even though her intentions might not have been the best, I think Harper genuinely enjoyed being part of the musical. There’s no point in rubbing it in and making her feel bad.
I enter the bathroom and lock myself in the stall. Just when I’m ready to leave, I hear a group of giggling girls walk in.
“Obviously cheer is more important to me,” Harper’s voice says. “Not everyone can be a cheerleader, you know? Some people just don’t have the rightlook.”
“Yeah,” her sheep agree.
“But I can’t help worrying about the musical,” she continues. “Obviously I’m not part of it anymore, but I still care about it. I can’t believe Miss Diaz gave my part to such an undeserving person. I mean, she was chosen as an understudy for a reason. Did you guys hear her sing? It’s not too late for Miss Diaz to hold new auditions and find a better replacement. Why is she settling for second best?”
“So true,” a girl says. “She’ll totally ruin the play.”
“Oh my gosh, Bailey, it’s amusical, not a play. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“S-sorry,” she stammers. “I meant musical.”
I peek through the gap and find Harper touching up her makeup. “I was thinking of talking to Miss Diaz and suggesting she hold new auditions, but it’s not really my problem anymore. If they want to wreck the musical, let them. I mean, it will already be wrecked because I’m not in it. Not everyone can be me.”
I roll my eyes. How conceited can a person be? And Harper knows I’m in here—she saw me go in. She’s obviously trying to take a jab at me. Every part of me urges me to throw the door open and give her a piece of my mind. But I learned years ago that there’s no point. Harper will never change. It’ll just be a waste of emotions.
