Page 6 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
Ihaddone it.
He’dmademe.
It didn’t make him any less of a jerk, but it had me examining the limitations I put on myself. Basically I’d abandoned any future with sports, which had been my domain, my area of excellence.
My oldest sister Ryann, a senior in college was a total brainiac, studying microbiology. Nadine, in her sophomore year was the creative one in the family, doing a degree in photojournalism. She had all the vision and all the words. Whereas I’d been the sporty one, the tomboy growing up, involved in any sort of physical activity.
But now I was scrambling to find a new passion, hoping I might have a flair for photography like Nadine, or find a purpose for four years of studying French.
With the rain pouring, Mom offered to give me a ride to school. I graciously accepted, knowing that not walking wouldn’t affect me too much because I had a trip to the rock climbing center for my Outdoor Education class. Everyday had to be a balance of diet, exercise and medication. Sometimes it was easy; sometimes it was a downright nuisance.
“I packed an extra muffin for your rock climbing,” Mom said, always knowing my schedule better than me. “Make sure you eat it.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“Don’t overdo it.”
“Uh uh, won’t.” Though it was hard to figure out where the line was between giving my best effort and pushing too far. Should I be content with being mediocre?
Bella was buzzing. She was going to caddy for her new boyfriend Jack on the weekend. Bella had played golf back in middle school, and she’d been really good, but after her father died in freshman year she’d given up. Completely. Dad had said how disappointing it was that she’d stopped playing because she’d been an outstanding talent.
Now she had a new job at the driving range, and it seemed she was getting back into it, largely thanks to her boyfriend being a golfer. She said she’d lost too many years to be good enough to play at college level, but she was happy to be back on the golf course pursuing her passion.
It made me wonder if it wasn’t too late for me. For sure, track was out of reach but being active, well it came in many forms and if I could do ten full pushups when forced to, perhaps I could find another direction. One where my diabetes wasn’t an obstacle. Because, let’s face it, I hadn’t exactly set the photography world on fire. And I had no intention of moving to France.
Our Outdoor Ed trip was in the city, an hour away, so the class met after first period. None of my volleyball friends were in the class, in fact it was top heavy with boys. Hiking, orienteering, mountain biking and kayaking didn’t appeal to a lot of girls, and Mom had thought it might be too strenuous for me, especially the upcoming overnight camp, but Dad called her out for trying to wrap me in cotton wool.
Did I tell you that I rarely did sleepovers now? Yeah, too much of a hassle. Having to decline certain foods can be embarrassing and makes me seem rude and picky. Even my grandma gets offended when I turn down her apple pie.
I sat next to Alicia on the bus, but most kids had their headphones on so there wasn’t much chatter. I had been rock climbing before so I wasn’t worried about my ability to climb, but Alicia was anxious, being her first time. I assured her it would be fine, and told her there was a beginner’s wall.
When I’d first gotten onto the bus I’d noticed Mitchell was already in the back, so I’d nudged Alicia into a front seat. Coming into the city the bus driver was forced to brake suddenly, sending a range of bags and a basketball sliding down the aisle. I put my foot out to stop the ball before it bounced onto the driver, scooping it into my lap.
Mr. Barron’s voice boomed to the back, “Thought I said no balls on the bus!”
Everyone sniggered, and without any warning I was engulfed in a vapor of sweet, fresh fragrance (I refused to think of the wordsexy), and the shadow looming over me could only beMitchell.
Ugh! How was this possible that with weeks, or years of never running into him, he seemed to be invading my personal space at every turn lately?
I gave him a sideways glance, knowing only too late that I shouldn’t have—his eyes made me go all gooey, the depths of golden brown and amber tones drawing me in.
“Harper,” he said, with a slight tone of pleading, his hands held out for the ball.
I have no idea what came over me. I stood and reached forward to the teacher’s seat.
“Mr. Barron said no balls on the bus,” I said, passing the ball to him.
“Thank you Miss Dent,” Mr. Barron said.
Then I turned to a stunned Mitchell, smiled and mouthed, “Payback.”
The scowl on his face set my heart racing, knowing I’d done a stupid thing.
“You’ll get it back when we return to school,” Mr. Barron was saying, “Now sit down, we’re almost there.”
The bus accelerated suddenly, and Mitchell lurched forward, his hand grabbing the top of my seat, his fingers entangling in my hair. It was only fleeting, barely a touch but it made me freeze, and then his breath was warm against my ear, and his words soft but menacing, “It’ll keep,” sent a shiver through me. But it wasn’t of fear—it was a shiver of excitement.
The unfamiliar feeling, along with heart palpitations made me wonder if my blood sugars should be checked. But that was ridiculous, I didn’t need a snack for at least another hour!
