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The last particles of air leave my lungs.
“Well,” Mitch interjects, “Tate doesn’t technically live here – he has his own place – but obviously he can crash here anytime.” Mitch is looking pointedly at Tate, who has turned slightly in our direction now, as he makes that last point.
WHAT?
Then Mitch faces me. “It’s just temporary, and it won’t be too long. But during the time that the team and I are working on your room,” he lifts his hands in a sorry defeat. “You won’t be able to stay there whilst we’re doing that.”
There are a lot of thoughts going through my head right now. Firstly, why the hell is my mom renovating our house in the first place? It’s been the same way since forever and I didn’t think she cared about splashing out on fancy interiors.
Secondly, if I can no longer use my room, and we’re going to be bunking here-
“So where am I going to be sleeping?” I ask.
My mom and Mitch look at each other. Then their eyes flicker to Tate.
Right.
I shouldn’t have even asked.
I know exactly which room I’m going to be sleeping in.
Chapter 4
Three Years Ago
Music is basically a free period. We’ve had a subbie teacher since the start of term, so giving us a textbook and telling us “have at it” is the extent of his pedagogical capacities.
I’m a good student but I’m not a drip, so after fifteen minutes of shuffling and reshuffling the papers in my bag I ask if I can go to the bathroom. Like a godsend he says yes without even thinking about giving me a toilet pass. I grab my bags with ninja agility and whip out of the doors, ready to get some actual studying done in the library.
I take the stairs on the left up to the second floor and round the corner of the Computer wing because the library is up past English and the detainment rooms, right at the other end of the school. Outside is a miserable grey colour and my heart swells with joy. I love this weather. The rain trickles down the panes in a never ending cascade and, if we’re lucky, in a minute or two we’ll get a rumble of thunder crackling in the distance.
I’m walking quickly past the next stairwell junction between the Lit classes when I see them. One of the science teachers is walking with purpose to the Detention Office, and filing behind him is a trail of three smug-looking jocks. They’re slowly swaggering like they’re just going for a mid-afternoon stroll and, from the state of the white shirts that are clinging wetly to theirsophomore swim-team muscles, it looks as though that’s what they were just caught doing. Outside. During fourth period.
It’s the guy with the black hair who notices me first. Shoulders, I do recall. He’s wearing his tie around his head for the fullI hate schooleffect and his canines flash blindingly white with every arrogant guffaw. If I had to pigeonhole him in the yearbook I would rank him as “Most Likely To Secretly Be A Vampire”.
In order to avoid them I would stop and pretend that I was about to open up a locker but, after last week, there’s the potential that they’ll remember that my locker isn’t actually on this hallway, so instead I fiddle with my bag, buckling and unbuckling the fastening, whilst trying to not pass out at the sight of Tate Coleson.
Tate gets a nudge on the arm and he looks up at me mid-laugh.
I’m so dazzled that I can’t breathe. I consider unbuckling my bag again so that I can take a gasp on my inhaler.
The amazing thing is, he doesn’t stop smiling. He’s still laughing from somewhere deep in that unbelievably broad chest of his, and he’s grinning in that sexy-cocky way. He has a badly behaved twinkle in his eye and I feel it pulse brighter the closer I get.
Dirty Blond snaps me out of it.
“Jeeeeee-sussssss,” he groans loudly, rolling his eyes like this is the most annoying moment of his entire life. “Give me a fuckingbreak, already.”
Tate glances over at him, still laughing, and puts him into a rough headlock. The other boy snorts and they disappear into the naughty boys’ pen, shaking the rainwater out of their hair like a pack of wolves.
The teacher who was accompanying them waits outside of the room and barely spares me a glance. A small female student,wearing glasses and a skirt from Goodwill? No way would she be ditching class.
I slow my pace before I turn for the library and I risk a glance in the direction of detainment room. Through the porthole window I see the three of them, hands behind their backs as they listen to their slap on the wrist scolding. Two of them are facing forward, struggling to keep their smirks at bay. The other one has his head ducked towards the door, eyes alight and molten, with a grin tugging at his lips.
My heart shivers with pleasure as I rush towards the library.
Tate Coleson just smiled at me.
*
