Page 14 of I Would Stay Forever
The choking sound I made was inhuman and immediately Dean’s face fell. I saw the regret flash over him in an instant, but still, I wanted to slap him. I wanted to take the words out of hismouth and somehow turn back time so that I hadn’t come under the bleachers today.
I knew what he was trying to do. I knew that he was just trying to show me that I wasn’t over it—as if I didn’t know it myself. But he didn’t need to go that far.
Dean closed his eyes and let out a long and pained sigh. “Lavender, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
I didn’t wait around to hear his apology. By the time he opened his eyes, I was already long gone.
nine
The first dayof school hadn’t exactly been the fresh start I was aiming for, but today was a new day and I was determined to make it a better one. I took a deep breath as I got out of my car and looked up at the stone building in front of me, reminding myself of my most important goal for the day: not seeing Dean Graham again.
If he slipped another note in my locker, I would ignore it. If he tried to text me, I would delete the messages. And if he showed up anywhere near me, I would make sure I wasn’t within grabbing distance and then make a break for it.
I was still mad at him for what he said yesterday, but more than that, I was mad at myself for still being so upset about it. I hated that I was transparent enough for him to see right through my lies when I said that I was over it. The truth was as much as I wanted to be over it, I still wasn’t, and I didn’t like that he knew me well enough to be able to tell.
As I walked up to the school, I was surprised by how quickly everyone had bounced back into their usual routines. The cheerleaders were dancing around by the main entrance, reminding everyone that tryouts were after school today. In the entry hall, I saw Tiffany yelling at Sebastian about how he hadn’tcalled her back last night after she hung up on him. I rolled my eyes but didn’t interfere. When I walked up the main staircase to the second floor, I saw the bright blue Friendship Bench occupied by three different couples making out, unconcerned by the paper airplanes some jocks were throwing around above their heads.
It was oddly comforting just how predictable school could be after a summer of feeling like my world had been so shaken that I didn’t recognize it anymore.
There was still a few minutes until the bell, but I headed straight for my first class, History of Warfare. Mr. Thompson said we didn’t have to sit in the same seats every day, but when I walked in, I saw that everybody who had already arrived were sitting in the same ones they’d been in yesterday, so I followed suit and took my place in the back corner by the window again. As I’d suspected, there weren’t many people in the class, but the classroom was equally small so almost everyone had to share desks. I’d gotten my own desk yesterday, but Mr. Thompson said we were missing some students, so I wasn’t holding out hope it would remain that way.
As I waited for class to start, I pulled out my notebook—red, because that seemed most fitting for a class on warfare—and opened it up to the first page. We hadn’t done anything that required taking notes yesterday, but I had to assume that would change now that it was the second day.
“Is this seat taken?”
I glanced up—ready to saygo aheadsince I knew it was one of the only empty seats left in the class—until I saw who was standing there.
I scowled. “What are you doing here?”
Dean had the audacity to look surprised by my tone. “I’m… in this class?” The words came out more like a question than a statement, as if he wasn’t sure what answer I was looking for.
“No.”
“No?” he echoed. “Like no the seat isn’t taken or no I can’t sit here?”
“Like no you’re not in this class.” My voice came out harsher than I intended, and a couple people turned around in their seats to look at us curiously. My face warmed at the attention, but I didn’t look away from Dean out of fear that he would take that as me telling him he could sit there, which he was absolutely not welcome to do.
“My schedule would say otherwise,” Dean said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, the memory of yesterday echoing in my mind. The way he physically pulled me under the bleachers just to make me feel worse about a situation that was already crappy, all under the guise ofchecking on me. If he could be that annoying in a ten-minute conversation, how could I manage to sit in the same classroom as him for an hour every single morning?
“I don’t give a crap what your schedule says. You are not sitting here with me and you are not staying in this class.”
Dean tightened his grip on the back of the plastic chair and leaned in, coming almost eye to eye with me. “And you’re going to be in charge of that? Because then you might have to be the one to fight my guidance counselor on it.”
“You weren’t here yesterday,” I said. I put my hand on the extra chair as well and pulled it toward me, yanking it out of his grip. He stumbled forward from the sudden change in balance and I smirked a little, even as people glanced over at us again.
“I was in the guidance office fixing my schedule.” He pulled the chair back toward himself again and it scraped loudly against the linoleum floor. I cringed at the sound but didn’t take my hand off the chair. “Now, if you don’t mind…”
He dropped his bag on the floor and it was clear he was planning to sit, so I pulled the chair even further toward me thistime, practically boxing myself in against the wall. I guess he could have sat down regardless, but he would have to squish up against me and I didn’t see him wanting to do that, especially when Mr. Thompson might walk in at any moment.
“I told you,Graham. You can’t stay here.”
“And I told you,Novak, that I need to take this class.”
“Why?” I snapped. “Why is it so important that you have to be in this particular class instead of any other one in the entire school right now?”
His face pinched in a frown. “I need the extra history credit. Why do you need to be here?”
