Page 1 of Reckless Roses
1
ELENA
“JUMP THEN FALL (TAYLOR’S VERSION)” – TAYLOR SWIFT
AGE TWELVE - JANUARY
“You’re late, Miss Ramos,”Mr. Holden, my seventh-grade algebra teacher, mutters as I interrupt the silence of his classroom, the slam of the metal door bouncing off the walls.
About thirty or so heads turn my way, and I force myself to glare. I’m not embarrassed. I didn’t do anything wrong.Stop staring.
Lips sealed, I clear my throat and hand him my doctor’s note. He slips a pair of glasses over his beady little eyes and reads through it at a glacial pace. Harrumphing, he hands it back to me and nods toward my seat at the back of the room. “We’re working on textbook pages forty-six through fifty-two in partners. Whatever is not completed during class will be your homework for tonight.” He sighs, looking around the room. “It appears everyone is already paired up.” He waves his hand to his left, and I notice a tall, dark-haired boy sitting on the other side of Mr. Holden’s desk, looking down at a book in his lap and not bothering to acknowledge my existence. “Zachary, can you please pair up with Elena for the remainder of the class period?”
The boy looks up, his brown eyes meeting mine. My stomach does a cartwheel, and I don’t know why. I’ve never seen him before, but there are lots of boys I’ve never seen before, and they’ve never made my belly feel like a bird might fly out of my throat. His hair is almost black, flopping in the center of his forehead with a singular curl, and his gray T-shirt fits his arms perfectly. Speaking ofarms, he has muscles. Biceps, in fact.
He stands, andhe’s so tall. Wow. His skin is perfectly smooth, a stark contrast from the pimply boils I’m coming face-to-face with every time a middle school boy gets a little too close to me. My eyes are drawn to his lips as he licks them. I’ve never noticed anyone’s lips before, but I can’t stop staring at his. I watch them turn into a smile until I can see his teeth, and now, my heart is beating about a million and a half miles per hour.
I shake my head, snapping out of whatever spell he has me under, realizing the class is still looking at me, Mr. Holden is still annoyed, I’m still not in my seat, and whoever this boy is, he’s now waving at me. It’s totally obvious I’ve been caught staring at him.
As fast as I can, I spin around and hustle to my desk, dropping my backpack on the ground with athunkas I fall into my seat. The classroom slowly returns to the hum of a hundred different quiet conversations, but I only stare at my hands. Suddenly, I feel the presence of a person next to me, and before I can look at him, I’m being dragged sideways.
I snap my head up, and the boy—Zach—has a hand around the leg of my chair, pulling it closer to his. “Hi.” He smiles.
“Hi,” I murmur, careful not to show my teeth.
“You’re Elena?”
I nod.
“I’m Zach. I’m Holden’s T.A. this class period, so I can help you with your assignment.”
I nod again, digging through my backpack for the textbook and my notebook. Red—because math is always red. I set it down on my desk, and Zach immediately pulls the textbook in front of him, flipping it open to the page we’re supposed to be working on.
“So, do you speak, Elena? Or only make sound effects?”
I scoff.
“Guess that answers that question.” There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyes remain on the page in front of him.
I let my curly hair fall against my face like a curtain to separate us. “I’m trying not to open my mouth today.”
He laughs loudly, and my stomach does those cartwheels again, like making him laugh is something to be proud of.
"Why?”
“I got braces.”
He turns to face me, and his stare heats my cheeks. He doesn’t speak until I look at him. “Do your teeth hurt?”
I shrug. Dropping my head again, I say, “I mostly just don’t want anyone to see them. They’re ugly.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” His voice is so smooth; it sounds like butter, if butter made noise when it glided against toast. I don’t like the way I can feel it. Or maybe I do like it, and that freaks me out. That’s the part I don’t like.
No way am I showing him my braces.Heat creeps up my neck, and it must show in my cheeks because he laughs again.
“C’mon. I’m joking.” He bumps his shoulder against mine, and those cartwheels start spinning faster, in a way that makes it hard to catch my breath.
“Why have I never seen you before?” I ask.
