Chapter 09: Your Girl

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark pearls of life.

J A M E S

"Captain," Nick, the linebacker on our football team says, "Your girl is here."

"Brittany is not my fucking girl," I grumble, without turning to look at the stands, "Focus on practi-"

"I didn't mean Brittany," he interrupts obnoxiously before I can finish, "I meant her- look!"

"Who the f-" I pause when I see who it was, and my eyebrows furrow.

Annabeth smiles at me, lifting a hand to give me a big wave.

School had ended over an hour ago- but I was still here for football practice. Why was she still here?

"Hi, James!" she calls chirpily, from the stands. Half the football team turns at the sound of her voice.

I was certain nearly all of them had a crush on her. They stared at her too much, even during the school day. Especially in that fucking dress she was wearing today.

A part of me had suddenly blanked when I saw her this morning, and I had no idea how that fucking happened.

The fact that they were still staring at her didn't bother me, of course. I always felt like bashing people's heads in. The urge to do so just got stronger.

I continue to frown in her direction as she gingerly takes a seat in the stands, pulling her dress down. She was here for me? The fuck?

And then it hits me. The assignment. I had told her I had practice, and she said she didn't mind. Now, she was here.

I press my lips together into an irritated line, even though the sight of her waiting for me makes something inside very stupidly light up.

She had braided her hair back too. Wasn't it left loose this morning?

A football hits the side of my head.

"Motherfu-" I glare at Tyler, who gives me an innocent grin as I lift my hand to my head, "The fuck was that for, dipshit?"

"I didn't see you there," he tells me, his grin widening, "It looked like you were a little lost staring at a certain someone."

"You didn't see me- why, you fucking-"

"Wrap it up, boys!" I hear Coach yell from where he was standing on the sidelines- watching all of us closely, "Same time tomorrow- not a minute late, or you're running laps! I'm looking at you, Gray-"

"I wasn't late," Tyler defends indignantly, "You were just early Coach-"

"Argue with me, and I'll make you run more laps," he warns, to which Tyler instantly closes his mouth. "That's what I thought. Now, hit the showers and get outta here."

Tyler, the immature idiot he was, stuck his tongue out at Coach the moment he had turned before he jogged my way.

I took one look at his face, and I already knew what he was going to say.

"So, everyone here thinks you have a girlfriend," he drags out the last word, as I push past him, pretending not to hear him, "Oh, oh- are you going to your girlfriend now, James?"

Matter of fact, I was. 

Going to her, I mean. Not that she was my girlfriend.

I stick my middle finger up at him, without turning around.

She skips down halfway to meet me as soon as she sees me approaching the bleachers, with that big smile on her face like she was happy to see me. Ugh, the fact that the thought made me feel satisfied on the inside was terrible.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her bluntly.

"The assignment, remember?" she tilts her head at me, "I figured we could go to the diner down the block, near the dorms to finish it."

I do recall stating at some point that I hated hanging out.

So, hanging out with her? Spending more time with her than absolutely necessary?

Hard fucking pass. She wasn't an exception to that rule.

I open my mouth to say something along the lines of fuck no, and,

"Fine."

What?

I blink, taken aback by what came out of my own mouth. That was not what I decided on?

"Cool!" she smiles at me, "I've got to pop into the library, and then I'll be waiting near your locker, okay?"

I just nod dumbly.

She gives me another smile before she hurries away- leaving me to wonder how the fuck I had just willingly agreed to hang out with someone without an argument.

*****

True to her word, I find her waiting near my locker- earphones plugged in as she bobbed her head to whatever beat was playing.

Tyler had that same stupid, teasing look on his face when I got to the locker room. I hardly said a peep about it, and the bastard jumped right to conclusions then.

"A date?"

"Not a fucking date," I scowled at Tyler who had way too much glee written on his face, "I'm finishing the assignment due tomorrow with her-"

"But alone, together," Tyler interjected, "At a diner. Mhmm, definitely a study date."

Pft. A study date. As if.

"Hello," she chirps as soon as she notices me, as if she hadn't seen me all day, "I've got a list of common questions to ask ready."

"Okay," I mutter dryly, still unsure about how I had agreed to it without hesitation.

"We shouldn't take too long, don't worry," she assures me, "Half an hour, at m-"

She cuts herself off.

I glance at her just in time to see her face go pale at the sight of something behind me.

Someone clears their throat.

My eyes linger on her expression as she glances back at me, the smile slipping off her face.

For a second, I almost think I feel the slightest sense of worry- but then I realize that it was probably because I wasn't used to her not smiling. Yeah, that's probably what that feeling was.

The person clears their throat again, a little more insistently.

"Got something in your throat?" I ask, without turning around.

I hear a scoff from behind me. With another glance at Annabeth, who hadn't said anything, I turn around, slamming my locker shut.

One look at him, and I instantly hated him.

The blond hair and green eyes were really selling it. He looked like the typical golden boy- the spoilt "my-daddy-will-sue" type of asshole. 

I already wanted to deck him in the face.

I can also see him sizing me up, while both his friends linger slightly behind.

"You lost?" I drawl, raising an eyebrow at him when he stares at me without saying anything.

His jaw clenches.

"I'm not," he says, and his voice sounds deceptively smooth, "The name's Ralph, by the way. Ralph Reynolds."

I can't help the mocking scoff that escapes. "Okay, Ronald."

"Funny," he says, and his voice sounds tighter than before. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't."

"I'm asking you to tell me, then."

"And I have no obligation to listen," I give him a hard look, straightening as I look down at him, "Do us a favor and fuck off blondie."

"Listen, hotshot," he says, dropping the cordial act as his eyes narrow, "I'm not here for you. I'm here for my girl. Annie?"

His girl?

"I am not your girl," I hear Annabeth say instantly before I can even give it more thought, "and don't call me that Reynolds, you lost that privilege."

I have to conceal my surprise as I look at her for a brief moment over my shoulder. And when I did, 

My jaw almost dropped.

Her eyes were narrowed in contempt, her arms were crossed over her chest defensively, and she sounded annoyed and curt- something I'd never expect from her.

Would you look at that? Ms. Sunshine had it in her after all. 

Hot damn.

I also don't miss how she takes a tiny step towards me like she was trying to shield herself from him.

Neither does Walmart Ryan Reynolds considering the way his eyes darken.

"Babe," he says slowly, "Come on. Don't be like that. I said I was sorry, it was an accident-"

"Go to hell."

My blank expression completely breaks, and my eyebrows go up in shock. Holy shit.

Blondie's face seems equally stunned, but he recovers faster than I do- and his jaw sets in displeasure.

"Annabeth," he says, his voice getting darker, "Behave. I came over here to talk-"

"Well?" she said, her eyebrows still raised. "We don't have all day Reynolds, get on with it."

Fucking damn. I was ready to throw away my dignity and defend her like she was a damsel in distress, and I didn't even need to.

The wannabe Ken-doll in front of me looked even more pissed.

"I came here," he says lowly, "to say hello and-"

"Hi," she said cutting him off, with what looked like a forced smile. "Now that that's done, the door's over there, so you can leave."

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my lips from lifting.

Hot fucking damn.

"Annabeth," he says again- his voice taking on a desperate note as if saying her name over and over was going to do any good, "We need to talk-"

"I don't want to," she says firmly, taking another step closer towards me.

"What the fuck do you mean?" he said the desperation in his expression changing to anger, making her wince slightly. Damn, that escalated quickly. "When I finally give you the attention you've always wanted from me, you won't even take it? You're pathetic, Annabeth- you attention seeking bitch-"

That was it.

He takes a step closer to reach for her, and that's when I step in his way.

"You heard her," I tell him, my voice hard, "Back up."

"Don't tell me what to-"

"I said, back the fuck up."

He swallows. I narrow my eyes at him, and I can see some of the bravery crumble. Little bitch.

"You're all talk," he says, trying to keep his voice firm- but I can see the uncertainty in him grow, "I'm not falling for the scary act."

"Oh yeah?" I murmur, tilting my head, "Try me, then."

He doesn't. Instead, he takes a shaky step back. Yeah, that's what I fucking thought.

"Can we leave?" I hear Annabeth ask me softly.

"Leave?" the motherfucker repeats, his tone annoyed, "Leave where?"

I ignore him completely, only turning my head to look at her. Right now, it looks like she's fighting to keep a blank expression in place.

"The diner?" I say, my voice softer and a lot gentler than usual. She nods.

"The diner?!"

This bitch. Why the fuck wouldn't he leave?

I exhale harshly in irritation but don't turn my head towards him yet.

Instead, I offer Annabeth my hand from behind me. She gives me a wide-eyed, surprised look, but I only tilt my head towards it- as an indication for her to hold it.

"Listen, Roy," I turn to him to give him a cold, warning look, without waiting for her reaction, "We have plans-"

"Plans?" Was this asshole going to repeat every fucking thing I said? "Like hell, I'm going to allow any punk to whisk her off-"

"Good thing I'm not just any punk then," I glare down at him harshly, "I'll say it one last time, back the fuck up or I'll knock your teeth out."

Without looking at her, I extend my hand further in her direction- and to my greatest satisfaction, she intertwines one hand with mine while the other one grabs the top of my arm.

I tell myself that satisfaction is what the stupid, warm feeling inside me is. Satisfaction of seeing his face go red. Satisfaction, and absolutely nothing else. 

She tugs on my hand, and I let her pull me away. 

But since I'm feeling extra petty today, when we're a good ten feet away, I turn around to see him still glaring after us. I flip him off to which he glares harder. Yeah, come at me, asshole.

"Who was that?" I ask her when we finally step out of school. "An ex, or something?"

The possibility of him being her ex annoyed me a lot more than I cared to admit. Like an unpleasant but also annoying feeling in my chest.

Don't say yes. Don't say yes. Don't say yes.

"Not really," she tells me with a small sigh and an eye roll that manages to surprise me again. "I was never unfortunate enough to be called his girlfriend.

Fuck yes.

"Oh, you really don't like him, do you?" if some of the inner satisfaction slips into my voice, I don't bother hiding it.

She shakes her head, with a stiff shrug.

"Well," I feel the need to say, in some sort of stupid encouragement, "That was... good, back there. You put him in his place. Didn't think you had it in you."

That seemed to do it.

Her expression changed into one of delight. "Really? You really think so?" She pumped her fist into the air. "Boo yeah! I knew I could be rude when I wanted to!"

Rude, my ass.

That was Annabeth-level rude, which was the lowest level of rude. It was more passive-aggressive than anything, but since she was smiling now- I didn't tell her that.

She smiled till we reached the diner, and for some reason, I couldn't find it in me to say something to make it go away.

When we make it to the diner, I slip my arm out of her hold- opening the door and stepping inside, without waiting for her.

There's a smack, and a small whine- and even before I look at her, I know exactly what happened.

I turn around to see her rubbing her forehead, as she pushes the glass door open. "You could've held it open for me!"

"Like a gentleman? Please." I give her a dry look, before reaching over and pressing my thumb on her forehead, running it over the soft skin, "There, see? You're not even hurt."

She sticks her tongue out at me, pushing past me to find a seat.

A bored-looking waiter comes our way as soon as we sit, looking down at his notepad. "Hi, welcome to our diner, what can I get you?"

"A milkshake," I mutter, "Large. Vanilla's fine."

"And for you miss?"

Annabeth looks down at the menu. "Uh...a large milkshake too?"

"If you're interested in a recommendation," the guy says, just as blandly, "The oreo-chocolate chip one is a customer favorite."

Her eyes light up gratefully. "That sounds lovely! Thank you," she pauses to read off his nametag, "River."

She paused again, before giving him a smile, dimples and all-and I swear the fucker melted just a little bit, almost awestruck at the sight of it.

Of course, I didn't think he could help it, or if it was even intentional in the first place, but it made me narrow my eyes a fraction of centimeter more.

I cleared my throat pointedly with a slight glare aimed at the side of his forehead, making him jump.

"Sure," he cleared his throat, offering her a weak smile too- but he didn't spare a glance my way as he scurried off. Bitch.

"So, first question," I turn back to Annabeth, to see her holding a piece of paper out, "Do you have a middle name?"

I press my lips together. "Next question."

"Your middle name is 'next question'?" she leans over, her smile cheeky.

I give her an impatient look.

"Mine's Charlotte," she offers when I still don't say anything. "So my initials are ACE. Cuz y'know, I ace everything I do."

She gives me an exaggerated wink with finger guns, and again I don't have the heart to point out that what she just did looked more like a very slow blink.

Instead, my lips have this ridiculous urge to lift slightly. I hold back that urge.

"Jordan," I relent finally.

"So you have three J's in your name?" her eyebrows go up, "Look at you, Mr. J cube!"

"Call me that again and I'll throw my milkshake at you."

"Okay, okay," she laughs, and like an absolute moron, I stare at her when she does. "Favorite flowers?"

I feel a tiny pinch in my chest. I don't think she expects me to answer that, because she looks ready to move to the next question, but I do.

"Calla lilies," I mutter, "Blue ones."

She blinks. "Oh. Those are beautiful, great choice. I'm allergic to some kinds of pollen, but I love sunflowers. And roses."

"So if you're annoying me too much, I can get you a bunch of wildflowers to shut you up," I note to myself, nodding, "Bet."

She laughs again. "I think I'd be more flattered that you got me flowers in the first place, so I'd move past that pretty quick." I stare at her, but before I can ponder over it too much, she asks the next question. "Favorite color?"

This was so lame. 

It took me a minute to actually think of a color I liked, before a color stood out in my mind. "The color of the sky when the sun is just setting and the stars are starting to reappear. It's a...mixture of different shades of blue."

Funnily enough, it felt like I was looking right at the color when I spoke. Weird.

"Pretty color," she gives me a bright beam, "Orange is my favorite, by the way."

"Like carrots?" I raise an unimpressed eyebrow. 

"I love carrots!" she says happily, as if I didn't already know. I had been giving her all the carrots off my tray for the past week because for some reason, her batting her eyelashes at me made me relent like a loser.

And as she goes on about carrots- something about bunnies? Something about carrot cakes? The conversation takes off from there. My answers are short, and of course, Chatty Cathy here has an explanation for each answer that I'm forced to listen to. 

But after a point, I get the strangest feeling that the talking about yourself didn't seem to be all about the assignment anymore. My idiot friend's words float into my head, and something occurs to me, right then.

I realized that maybe, just maybe-this was something like a date, after all.

Call it study-date, or two project partners hanging out, or whatever the fuck you wanted to. It seemed pretty damn close to what he had insinuated then.

And what was more surprising?

I didn't seem to mind, at all.


Thank you for reading! Please do vote and comment :)

two chapters in a row, look at me go. I made that rhyme too ha. until next time, be well ! x

Cassie's bucket list #09: Walk to a random group of friends, along with one of my own friends, and say, "So we are killing him, right?"


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net