CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Riley — 18 years old (Senior year)
I don’t believe my eyes when he walks into my Advanced Calculus class.
In fact, I blink and then blink again. Maybe I’m seeing things. Yeah, that’s definitely what’s happening. I’ve lost my mind and now I’m imagining things that are not here. He is not here.
He can’t be real, right?
But oh, oh…
When his eyes land on me and our gazes meet — time slows to a stop.
A silent moment.
A breathless second.
My mystery man. He is here; he is real.
My heart thuds in my chest when he pauses in front of the class, his eyes drinking me in. As if he’s seeing things too. As if he can’t believe it either and he’s questioning his own sanity, just like I am. But then his expression softens. As the students start piling in, he walks toward the back of the classroom. Toward me .
A breath is still stuck in my throat when he pauses by the desk beside me. The empty desk— because if Lila is not in one of my classes, no one else sits beside me. But I rather like it that way. I always sit in the last row and no one bothers me.
He drops his backpack next to the desk and then settles himself into the chair next to me. He stretches his leg out from under the desk, and I can’t help but stare. He has grown even bigger and taller than the last time I saw him. How is that possible?
The way he has to fold himself in behind the desk, makes everything look so small compared to him. I can’t stop staring. Oh God, I’m such a creep.
What the hell is wrong with me?
His sharp jawline is partially obscured by the rough stubble he’s sporting. And his hair is slightly longer than I remember. He’s so big, but for some odd reason, I’m not intimidated by him.
He’s Jay…
The guy who drew me in his sketchbook.
He saw beyond the fake mask I was wearing, and he drew the real me.
I can’t possibly be intimidated or scared of him, even if he looks like he can snap me half without even trying.
A muscle ticks along his jawline and then I see his lips twitch, with a ghost smile. “You’re staring,” he says under his breath, loud enough for only me to hear.
“You,” I say, when my words fail me. “What… how ? You’re here.”
“I would say, I’m just as surprised.” He turns his head toward me, and his smile widens when he sees me still staring at him like a complete loon. And that’s when I see it. A dimple.
He has a dimple.
And it happens again — that flutter in my stomach.
“So, I guess you’re not Daisy.” There’s no accusation in his voice, just keen interest.
“You’re not Jay either.”
“No, I’m not.” He slowly cocks his head to the side, watching me.
The teacher hasn’t arrived yet, and the class is boisterous. No one is really paying attention to me or him; it’s just the two of us here. In the back of the classroom.
I lick my lips. “What’s your name then?”
He grunts in response. “I’ll tell you my real name, if you tell me yours first.”
“Riley.” I swallow.
There goes the fantasy I’ve created in my head, where I was Daisy and he was Jay. My imagination is now tainted with the reality of us. He’s here, at Berkshire Academy now, and if he doesn’t know my truth already, he will eventually find out.
“Riley,” he says my name, almost like he’s testing it on his tongue. “It suits you.”
It suits me? What is this supposed to mean?
He must see the confusion on my face when I simply blink at him in response. “Do you not know the meaning of your name?”
I shake my head. “No?”
It never occurred to me to check the meaning of my name because I can’t imagine my parents gave any importance to it when they named me. So it never mattered before.
“There are two possible meanings to your name,” he explains. “The first is derived from a Gaelic word, which means “valiant.” The second meaning is derived from the Old English words, Rye and Leah , meaning a field or a meadow.”
“Oh. And you think that suits me?”
“I passed by a meadow once. It was filled with yellow lilies. This is why it suits you. Your hair…” He trails off as the teacher walks into the classroom.
Everyone quiets down, settling back into their respective chairs. I drop my hand back to my lap when I realize it has drifted up, unconsciously touching the loose strands of my hair.
Mr. Gavin begins talking about the class curriculum and expectation, but I can’t focus. “You didn’t tell me your name yet,” I whisper, only half-listening to the teacher.
“Grayson,” he finally introduces himself, using his real name for the first time.
My mystery man is no longer a mystery.
Grayson.
The constant stammering of my heart is making me breathless.
“Grayson,” I say this name, only because I want to know how it feels on my tongue. It’s easy and nice. His eyes flash, narrowing on me when I breathe his name.
My teeth snag on my lower lip, and I watch just how quickly his attention is diverted to my mouth. My palms grow sweaty and I feel a flush creeping up from my neck to my cheeks that are already unnaturally warm.
“Riley Johnson? Riley Johnson!” The sound of my name snaps me out of my thoughts, and I lurch to my feet in alarm, almost knocking my desk over in my haste and forcing Grayson to reach out and hold it in place for me.
“Yes?” I squeak out, embarrassment coursing through me.
My calculus teacher gives me a bored look. “Attendance, young lady. If you’re not going to focus in my class, you can walk right back out.”
I hear a chorus of laughter, and my eyes flicker to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I mumble under my breath. When I sit down again, I can’t bring myself to look back at Grayson.
“Dumb bitch.” I hear the person in front of me sneer under her breath.
“She’s a walking disaster,” her friend agrees.
If I can hear their words, I know Grayson can too. He hears my truth; he sees it now. He sees the wreckage that is me — Riley Johnson.
Stupid, stupid Riley.
I can’t even do one thing right in my life. I just had to go and embarrass myself in front of him. Now Grayson probably thinks I’m a loon, with practically no brain cells.
The thought makes me pause.
Why do I care what he thinks? My whole life has been scrutinized and made fun of. I’ve been ostracized by the whole of Berkshire Academy, I’ve been ceaselessly bullied and everyone treats me like I’m some kind of disease (except Lila, of course).
Somehow, I’ve gotten used to the negativity and hate.
As long as I have Lila. She’s the pillar that keeps me together.
There’s an odd, unfamiliar flicker of disappointment in my chest at the thought of Grayson thinking that I am a disaster, just like the rest of them.
The idea of no longer being that girl in his sketchbook — the breathtaking vision of me that he drew — pains me.
Why should I care if he thinks the same…? He’s no one to me, just a stranger I’ve crossed paths with. It doesn’t matter; I shouldn’t care.
Oh, but I do.
I do care, and I don’t know why.
***
Three weeks later
“He’s coming our way,” I report, shaking my head with annoyance. Maddox Coulter and Colton Bennett swagger our way, with utmost confidence that makes me grit my teeth. “Oh shit, here we go again.”
Lila’s back straightens, as if to prepare herself for what’s coming. “Maybe we should get out of here?” My gaze sweeps over the cafeteria, searching for our possible routes of escape.
Two weeks ago, a group of freshman students stole our willow tree. Well, they took over our spot. Lila and I didn’t want to start any drama with the fledgelings, so we let them have our tree and we came back to the cafeteria.
We thought it’d be safe, since my bullies have all graduated or left. We found ourselves a nice table in the corner, and Lila and I thought everything would be fine, that we could go back to some kind of normalcy.
But no, that was just our wishful thinking.
A week ago, Lila and I were somewhat invisible. It’s a new academic year and we were doing a pretty good job of blending in, without any drama or new scandal following us.
Except…
Lila just happened to catch the attention of Berkshire’s infamous quarterback and notorious playboy, Maddox Coulter. I knew her sass would get her in trouble one day. I knew it. So, here we are now.
Colton’s gaze catches mine, and I frown. That insufferable smirk of his is starting to really get annoying. I nudge my chin up and level him with a hard glare. He won't get under my skin; I won’t allow it.
I just…won’t.
Maddox and his friends grab a chair each, settling around our table. Colton sits next to me, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He’s so close, his knees bump into mine.
Maddox and Lila have their own thing going on. He likes to annoy her, testing her boundaries, waiting for her to snap. He knows Lila won’t shy away from his little game, so she’s a worthy opponent.
But Colton?
He’s using Maddox’s attention toward Lila to his advantage. Because if Maddox is constantly around my best friend, that means Colton is constantly around me.
He knows how much I detest his presence, that I want absolutely nothing to do with him.
But Colton enjoys pushing me, in the most condescending ways. He knows our history, the rivalry between our families. He should be keeping his distance from me, but he is, after all, the devil spawn of Henry Bennett.
My father has told me ath the Bennetts are known for destroying everything they put their hands on. They are to never be trusted. And I know Colton feels the same way about me.
He has a huge line of conquests, of girls who he has slept with and left with a broken heart. They are foolish for falling for his decadently handsome face, though. Because that’s all he is.
A rich boy, with an attractive face, a nice body and an ugly soul.
I still remember his words from when we met in rehab. Of how my humiliation was entertaining to him. How he had laughed in my face. Colton had called me a dead sparrow, because to him — I was nothing, but weak.
Colton snickers at something Maddox says, before stealing my brownie from my tray. A brownie that I wasn’t going to eat anyway, but it’s my brownie.
He keeps his eyes on mine, while taking a big bite. I can’t look away; he is so fucking maddening. His tongue swipes along his lower lip to catch the crumbs and then he places my brownie back on the tray. “It’s edible,” he says, his voice deep and sarcastic. “But quite bland if you ask me.”
He’s not talking about the brownie, I know. The meaning of his words are as obvious as his gaze that sweeps over my body suggestively, before landing back on my face.
“That was a lousy kiss. You can do better than that, man.” He slowly cocks his head to the side, responding to Maddox’s ‘indirect kiss’ comment toward Lila.
I drop my hands back into my lap, twisting my fingers together. I notice the way my knees are bouncing, and I try to stop them, attempting to hold my body still. But I can’t.
Dr. Bailey showed me how to spot signs of my anxiety.
And leg bouncing? Is my first anxiety response.
I don’t know why Colton is here or why he is trying to piss me off with his little remarks. Oh wait, I do know. Maybe I’m the next sad little victim in his conquest.
And maybe it’s more fun for him because I’m Thomas Johnson’s daughter.
Maddox grabs Lila’s chair, pulling her closer to him, the four legs making a loud screeching sound. The whole cafeteria is watching us now and the rumbling in my stomach begins. The shawarma I just ate settles heavily in my stomach, and I suddenly feel gross.
“What do you say, Garcia? Shall we put on a show for these asswipes?” Maddox asks, sounding a lot more seductive than before.
“Not interested. Your lips probably hold more disease than a pig’s asshole.” Lila hands him back her apple, giving him her best (fake) smile. “Consider this charity. Next time, I won’t be so gracious.”
His friends holler in response.
Colton’s knee bumps into mine again.
Lila pushes away from the table, grabbing her empty tray. A breath expels out of me shakily, as I lurch forward to do the same. I need to get out of here.
Before I lose my lunch all over Colton’s expensive shoes.
I follow Lila out of the cafeteria.
“Maddox is having the time of his life messing with me, and I’m letting him.” Lila growls under her breath, marching through the hallways like she’s about to go to war. “Not anymore. He wants to play games? Fine, I will play his games. But on my rules.”
“You’re annoyed,” I comment weakly.
“What do you think?” She pauses at her locker and angrily shoves her bag inside. She reaches out for mine and I hand it to her. We’ve gotten into a habit of sharing a locker. It’s just easier than having to make two pit stops. “What is it with us attracting jerks?”
I give her a half-shrug. I wish I knew.
Maybe we have a big red sign written on our foreheads, that’s only invisible to us, but everyone else sees it. HELLO TO ALL JERKS.
“Are you okay?” Lila asks, concerned.
I grimace in response. “Nothing, I just feel a little sick.”
“Because of what happened in the cafeteria?”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Uhm, can I have a mint?”
“Candy or gum?” She has a whole stash in her locker, specifically for me.
“Gum, please.”
I take the gum from her and unwrap it. I’ve found that chewing gum helps me stay focused and saves me from having anxiety attacks. It’s a stress-reliever coping mechanism I’ve adopted.
I grab my Calculus notebook, while chewing on my gum. My tense muscles loosen, and my stomach is no longer cramping. I don’t feel nauseous, and I can breathe better; it doesn’t feel like my lungs are caving inward anymore.
Lila closes her locker, just as the bell rings. Time to get to class.
“I have biology next, you?”
“Calculus.” I plug in my earphones, turning on the whale noises I like to listen to. This is better. The soothing, lulling sounds of the whales calms me. It’s like a shot of dopamine in my system.
“I’ll see you after school then.” Lila gently inserts her hand into the pocket of my blazer, placing something there before taking her hand away. “Here, this is another mint gum. In case you need it.”
I nod thankfully and we go our separate ways. Keeping my head down, I take the stairs to the upper floor. I only come to a halt when I see Grayson standing outside of our Calculus class.
With Oaklynn at his side, like she always seems to be.
But while Oakylnn looks cozy with him, Grayson appears utterly disinterested in her advances. That’s how I came to the conclusion that they are not dating.
His head lifts up and our eyes meet.
Thud.
My steps slow, and my heart does that same stuttering thing it does every time I see Grayson. Oh, why, why… why?
He’s staring, again.
Watching me closely, like he always does. It’s unnerving.
Someone bumps into my shoulder, and I jerk forward.
“Move, you dumb bitch. You’re so fucking slow.”
I flinch and quickly propel forward, before anyone else can bump into me and add more insults onto the overbearing pile that I’m silently collecting.
I keep my head down as I pass by Grayson and Oaklynn. “She’s so weird,” she mutters under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I don’t bother to stay and listen to Grayson’s response. I make it to the last row and take my seat. The second bell rings, and Grayson, with the rest of the students, walks into class.
I feel his burning stare on me as he takes his seat. But I don’t look up. If I do and if our eyes meet, my stomach will do the fluttering thing again.
I think Grayson has realized that I’m avoiding him, so he’s keeping his distance. We still sit next to each other in our AP Calculus and Law Studies classes. But we don’t talk, even though I always feel his eyes on me, burning into my skin.
Grayson is not intimidating, but his undivided attention scares me. Not in a bad, frightening way. But it unnerves me, because I don’t want to make of it.
I know he’s not judging me, because his gaze is always watching me with warm curiosity. Studying me closely, like I am some kind of enigmatic puzzle to him.
I don’t quite understand my reasoning behind purposely avoiding him. Maybe it has to do with the way he makes me feel. Warm and seen.
Except, I can’t exactly put into words what I am feeling.
It’s a foreign emotion, a mystery, even to me.
I’m dying to know, to understand my own feelings. But I am afraid to find out what it would mean to me — to him.