Page 134 of Pride High 2: Orange
“Pride is a great town,” she assured him. “You’ll make friends soon.”
“I keep trying,” he replied. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met so far. And the prettiest.”
“Oh stop,” Mindy said with a giggle, even though she was thrilled. Unsure what to do with herself, she neatly arranged the items on her desk, occasionally shooting a covert glance in Troy’s direction. He was on the thin side. Not skinny exactly but also not athletic. He was tall like Anthony. And with her luck, probably just as gay. Although she didn’t catch him checking out the guys. Or even other girls. Those gray-blue eyes kept returning to her.
He caught her looking and leaned across the aisle, as if wanting to say something, just as the teacher walked in. Mrs. Hernandez greeted them in Spanish, her presence silencing the room. Troy smiled with a shrug, sat upright again, and faced the front. Mindy’s gaze lingered. She liked how dark his hair was. Crimson rather than orange. He had a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and his lips looked soft and kissable. Would his goatee tickle her chin?
“Señorita Beaumont!” the teacher said to get her attention.
Mindy’s head whipped toward the front. “¿Sí?”
Mrs. Hernandez continued in Spanish.“Did you change seats?”
Mindy’s cheeks began to burn. Why did she have to draw attention to the fact? Ugh! “I thought it would be okay,” she replied. “Since it’s the start of a new semester.”
“¿Perdón?”
Whenever Mrs. Hernandez said that word, she wanted a response in Spanish. Mindy did her best to translate, even though it lacked finesse.
“Is there any reason why?” Mrs. Hernandez pressed.
“She was being nice,” Troy chimed in. “I’m new here and didn’t know where to sit.”
“Ah yes, the new student.” Mrs. Hernandez flipped through the planner on her desk. “Why don’t you come up here and tell everyone about yourself?En español, por favor.”
Mindy had never switched schools before, but she could imagine how embarrassing it would be to introduce oneself in front of the entire class. She nodded at him encouragingly as he stood, and checked out his pert little butt as he walked down the aisle.
“My name is Troy Mitchell,”he said in Spanish once facing the room.“I moved here from Wichita. I like cars, basketball, and pizza.”His eyes sought her out.“I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“¡Muy bien!”Mrs. Hernandez said, sounding genuinely impressed.
Mindy was too. With the entire package.
Troy had a swagger in his step as he returned. After he had taken a seat and the teacher began her lecture, he leaned over and whispered, “So whydidyou switch seats?”
Mindy smiled demurely and shook her head. She focused on the lesson for the rest of class, or tried to appear that way, when all she could think about was how the new guy had saved her from embarrassment at his own expense. After calling her pretty! Mindy pinched her arm, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Then she watched the clock, eager for the chance to speak with him again.
When the bell finally rang, Mindy wished she’d spent the time figuring out what she would say to him. Although he made it easy.
“I don’t suppose you know where my next stop is?” Troy said, handing her a small yellow piece of paper.
She scanned the list of his classes and was disappointed they didn’t share more of them. “It’s not far,” she said. “I can walk you there.”
“Really? Will you carry my books as well?” He offered one to her.
Mindy smiled and it took it. “Sure!”
“And my backpack?” He asked before placing it in her arms. “Andyourbackpack,” he continued, adding it to the pile “Hey, that globe over there would look great in my bedroom. Do you mind?”
She laughed. Troy grinned in response and began unburdening her of it all. Including her own things.
“You don’t have to—” Mindy began to say.
“I want to,” Troy insisted, slinging her backpack over one of his shoulders. Even though it was pink. Please don’t let him be gay!
“Is this school bigger than your old one?” Mindy asked as they left the classroom together. Then she mentally kicked herself for asking such a dumb question. Who cared about his old school? Or this one? She should have asked if he played basketball and if she could watch him practice.
“It’s about the same,” Troy answered. “And yet, somehow more confusing. This town is definitely smaller than Wichita though. Obviously.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’ve seen a map before, I’m sure. Hey wait, do they have those here?”
