Chapter Thirteen
Carly
I don’t hate my advanced English class, but it’s not my favorite in the world. I chose this class because I figured I could get by. Turns out the class isn’t so bad. I might actually pass.
The work isn’t hard, it just takes up a lot of my time. Now with dance, I’m a little worried how I’ll manage to stay on top of all my work. But I’ll figure it out. There’s no way in heck I’m giving up on dance.
I sit down in my usual seat and glance around. A nice amount of students take this class, but I don’t know them well. I’ve tried to talk to them and make friends, but like usual, no one wants to associate themselves with the scholarship kid.
The teacher, Ms. Roberts, enters the classroom and starts the lesson. I’m a little distracted with dance, but I force myself to concentrate. I never cared about school. I still don’t. But I don’t want to let my dad down. Or myself down. It’d suck to fail this class.
Fifteen minutes into the lesson, the door opens and a tall guy walks in. My mouth drops open when I take in his messy blond hair and brown eyes.
Ryder Bennett. In my advanced English class.
What the heck is he doing here?
He walks to the teacher, says something to her as he shows her a piece of paper, and then scans around. His eyes catch sight of me and that lazy smile forms on his face. Other girls smile at him, but he’s focused on me.
I sink a little in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. I was happy last week when he didn’t turn up in any of my classes. I don’t need all the drama that comes along with him. Looks like we share a class after all.
“Welcome, Ryder. Class, we have a new student.”
Ryder waves at everyone with a bright smile that I know makes most of the females in the room melt into a puddle. Not this female, though. Nope.
He heads for a seat in the back of the classroom, passing me on the way. He bends close to whisper, “Hey, kid. How’s it going?”
I glance up at him. I don’t have a chance to respond before he chuckles softly and takes a seat near a few popular kids.
Throughout the lesson, I force my eyes not to look at him.
But apparently, I don’t have any control because they flit to the back of the room.
Ryder’s typing frantically on his laptop, as if worried he’ll miss something the teacher says.
Hmm. I don’t know if he’s studious. I can’t remember if he was in middle school.
“Students, I need to leave for a meeting that will take up the rest of the period,” Ms. Roberts announces.
“Your assignments are due in my inbox tonight, so you have the rest of the period to work on it, if you’d like to.
It doesn’t matter to me when you complete it, but I expect it emailed to me tonight. Have a nice day.”
She gathers her things and walks out of the classroom.
Kids glance at each other, shrug, and start talking to one another. No one starts working on the assignment. Big shocker there.
There are about forty minutes left to the class. More than enough time for me to complete the assignment. If I can finish this before tonight, I’ll have more time to complete the rest of my homework after dance practice. It’s all about balance so I won’t be overwhelmed.
Ryder doesn’t work on the assignment. He’s chatting to the popular kids.
The girls twirl their hair, bat their lashes, and giggle.
He smiles, totally loving all the attention.
Right, sometimes I forget that he’s a player.
While I didn’t go to high school with him, I saw enough social media to know he had a new girlfriend like every two months.
Even Blake told me that his best friend loves hanging out with girls.
Not that I care. As far as I’m concerned, he can date every single girl on the planet. As long as it’s not me, I’m good.
“Hey.”
Lifting my head, I find Ryder standing there. “How did you get here so fast?” I blurt.
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“You were just talking to those…never mind. What do you want?”
He lowers himself in the desk in front of mine and turns around to face me. “No one’s doing the assignment, but I’m a little surprised that you are. You never liked school.”
It’s a little shocking that he remembers that. “Yeah, well, I promised my dad I’d be more disciplined.”
He laughs softly. “You disciplined in schoolwork? That’d be a first.”
He also remembers that I’m not disciplined? For a guy who always complained that I “tagged along” with him and my brother, he sure does know a lot about me.
He squints his eyes as he watches me. “Why’s your dad on your case? Your parents are very cool and great.”
“Yeah, but he wants me to…why are you even asking me that? Why do you care?”
He shrugs. “Curious. Your dad doesn’t support your dream to be a dancer?”
“No, of course he does. He just wants me to have something to fall back on. Hence the advanced class.”
He continues to watch me. “That’s smart. Your dad really loves you. Both your parents do.”
Call me crazy, but there’s this tone in his voice, something I can’t pinpoint.
And his eyes look so sad and alone. Now that I think about it, I hardly know his parents.
I mean, they were our next-door neighbors and I encountered them here and here, but I never knew them.
And come to think of it, Ryder hardly talked about them.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him, but I don’t for two reasons.
One, he looks like he wants the subject dropped.
Two, I don’t know what Ryder and I having such a conversation would do to our dynamic.
Would he confide in me and I would in him, and then I’d wake up tomorrow feeling insecure because my enemy knows what lies in my heart?
Like how I worry if I can actually make it as a successful choreographer.
Or that I’m unsure how the dance team will turn out.
What if we make fools of ourselves in front of the whole school?
What if we become the laughingstock of the entire elite world that I’m not part of?
Harrington Bay Academy can’t have its image tainted.
Ryder bends close. “Your wheels are spinning.”
Gone is that forlorn look on his face. His eyes are back to their cheery selves and he’s wearing that lazy grin on his face.
“Sorry. What did you ask me?”
He shrugs. “I just said that your parents love you. And Blake does, too. You’re lucky to have them, that’s all.”
I study him, trying to get a sense of what’s bothering him, but he laughs.
“I’ll let you get back to your assignment.”
“Yeah. You can’t keep those girls waiting.”
He turns around like he’s seeing them for the first time. Did he forget about his fans? “Mhm, kid. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.”
I scoff. “Right. Jealous. Sure.”
His eyes dance. “What else would you call it?”
I tap on my laptop keys as I continue my assignment. “Do you mind? I’m trying to work.”
He stands and bends close to whisper in my ear, “Okay, I’ll leave. But you’re still jealous.” He grins again and walks off.
“I’m not,” I mutter after him. Whatever. I don’t really care what he thinks. If he wants his head to grow and grow until it explodes, that’s his problem.
Jealous…that he and his friends will have to finish the assignment tonight along with the rest of their homework? Ha. We’ll see who the jealous ones are.
For some reason, I find myself watching him chat and laugh with his friends. And as if he can feel me, his head lifts in my direction. A slow, wide smile forms on his face, like he’s proud of himself. Ugh. He thinks I’m watching him because I’m jealous.
After rolling my eyes at him, I focus back on my homework. But I can’t stop myself from glancing at him every so often. And each time I do, I find his eyes on me.