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Westscott chuckles. “Good to know, Bennett. Just—make sure you stay focused. You don’t need any distractions in your life right now, especially during football season. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“Right.” I nod. “No distractions.”
“I know how it is. I was a teenage boy once. At this stage in our life, we’re all young, dumb and full of cum.” Westscott chuckles.
I blink at him, shocked he would say that. I mean yeah, my dad would probably say something like that but in a joking way. And plus, he’s my dad. We have that kind of relationship where it’s no bullshit. He remembers what it was like when he was a teen, he’s told me. He was all over the place and obsessed with two things—football.
And my mother.
But Westscott is the headmaster. He runs the entire school and he has an image to uphold—he’s told me that plenty of times. He looked pretty serious saying it too, which is just odd.
“Right,” I say lightly, trying to laugh but failing miserably. Instead, I just feel uncomfortable. “You don’t have to worry about me, sir. I’m one hundred percent focused on football. We’re going all the way. I can feel it.”
“Good to know.” Westscott claps me on the shoulder so hard I take a stumbling step forward, glaring at him as he turns and walks away.
I watch him go, rubbing the back of my neck, wondering about our conversation. Curious if I’m the only one he says this kind of shit to. When he talks to me like that, he makes me feel like I’m his prized possession, and I don’t like it.
At all.
***
By the time I’m in our photography class after lunch, I know for a damn fact that Willow is avoiding me. She runs into the classroom right as the bell rings, just like she did in English, earning a stern glare from our teacher who otherwise doesn’t say a word to her.
She scrambles to her desk, settling in and keeping her focus off me the entire time, leaving me confused. Everything was cool the last time I talked to her, which was last freaking night. Now she acts like she wants nothing to do with me and I don’t get it. Every little bit I get from her is just enough to keep me interested and wanting more.
Maybe it had the opposite effect on her.
If that’s the case, man that sucks.
“We’re going to work on a project this week that entails you pairing up with another student in class.” There’s a collective groan from the class and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s not complaining. I’d give anything to share the workload with someone else. Makes things so much easier.
“To take away the difficulty of pairing up on your own and to avoid anyone feeling left out, I’ve already preassigned your partner.”
More groaning from the classroom and I brace myself, glancing around the room. There’s hardly anybody in this class I want to be paired up with.
Mr. Chen starts rattling off names, going down a list.
“Bennett, you’re with Lancaster.”
Talk about good luck. I thought for sure I’d have to pair up with that weird brainiac freshman that no one talks to. Poor kid.
Willow’s hand shoots up in the air.
“Yes, Willow?”
“Um, maybe I could switch partners?” She still won’t look at me, and damn, I’m hurt.
She’d rather work with someone else? Maybe even the brainiac freshman?
Ouch.
“I’m afraid I can’t switch you with anyone else. Working with someone you’re unfamiliar with is good practice for when you’re out in the real world.” Mr. Chen’s face falls a little. “Well, you’ll probably never have to deal with that considering who you are.”
Someone giggles. Willow’s face turns red.
All I can do is glare at her.
“Okay!” Mr. Chen claps his hands, causing the room to go silent. “We’ll be heading outside to work on our first assignment for the week. Please make sure you grab one of the sheets here.” He gestures toward his desk. “The instructions are included, but if you have any questions, please let me know. Make sure you grab your belongings. We won’t be returning to the classroom before the bell rings and I don’t want to make you late for your next class.”
