9. Wren #2
She’d told me I knew better, and she was right, then and now.
If it’s too good to be true, oftentimes that’s exactly what it is, so why is this the one lesson I can’t seem to learn?
I’d mapped out my escape and nailed down the timeline, down to the last class. The school also gave me an allowance of sorts as a scholarship student, and if I put away nearly every cent, I might just have a shot to get away.
Anywhere was better than with her.
But maybe, just maybe, I could budget in a camera… even just a low-quality one. Something to help keep me grounded.
It would never be the one she took from me.
To this day, I still don’t know how Jordan afforded that one.
He’d gifted it to me on my fifteenth birthday, and I hadn’t had the balls to ask him how he got it.
I knew we could afford it, as our parents had money.
They’d supposedly left some to us, but we’d never seen it.
Auntie handled the finances, said we could get our trusts after we graduated, a conditional legacy, if you will.
He might have stolen it or the money, and honestly, it was just better if I didn’t know.
But now it might be worth eating a little tighter when I graduate to have that one small joy. For the first time, for as long as I can remember, she can’t ruin it.
“Wow, you’re thinking awfully hard. Doesn’t your brain ever just need a break?” Julez asks, and I snort a laugh because he’s right. I am thinking pretty damn hard, given I’m looking at a tree.
He’s standing close enough that I bump his shoulder with mine, and when I look over at him, I find his gaze already focused on me.
“What were you thinking so hard about there, beautiful?” His question is strangely sincere, given his easy use of yet another pet name.
“Nothing.” I look back at the tree, unable to hold his gaze while I lie to him.
Jordan always said I had a terrible poker face; I guess some things never change.
“Liar, try again.” He turns toward me, the tree seemingly forgotten, and he’s so close I can feel the warmth of his body heat.
Damn, my brain feels like scrambled eggs right now.
“It’s nothing. Let it go.”
I move to continue down the path, but just like in the cafeteria, Julez has other plans. The feel of his fingers around my bicep is somehow already familiar, and I internally roll my eyes at myself.
This is what happens when you have no social life: apparently, the first boy to touch you scrambles your brain and lets your hormones take control.
“Nope,” he pops the p obnoxiously before whirling me back around to face him, his finger dipping under my chin to force my gaze up to meet his.
Julez is hot, but he’s also pretty behind all that bad-boy shit. Under the blue hair, piercings, and tattoos, he has charm and charisma that would make him attractive even if he had regular hair and no extra hardware.
So why the hell is he looking at me like that right now?
He hardly knows me other than the fact that I’m Gavin’s self-proclaimed academic rival, something I never even intended to happen.
Hell, I would have let him have the wins if I could; they never meant anything to me, but I couldn’t, not if I wanted to be able to walk straight or see out of both eyes.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the reminder of the past and swallow down the lump in my throat as I offer him a single word that feels like it’s being ripped from my very soul.
“Pictures.”
“What?” I hear the confusion in his tone and peek an eye open to look at him.
There’s zero judgment on his face, even though his confusion is clear. There’s something about Julez that’s so disarming to the point where he’s almost magnetic. I’m not sure if he’s genuine or if he’s trying to get close to me for Gavin’s sake, but I really hope it’s not the latter...
“I like photography as a hobby, taking pictures of things,” I mumble before I quickly avert my gaze, unable to hold his stare as embarrassment takes over.
It’s silly. Photography does nothing for me, just a waste of time.
I’d heard those words so often that I believed them, but somehow I still craved it.
“You want to swing past the dorm. You can grab your camera, and we can come back?”
I snap my gaze back to his and find he’s completely serious. My jaw would be on the floor if not for the fact that his finger was still tucked beneath it.
I’m speechless for a moment, unsure what I can say. I’d expected him to brush it off or even laugh, but instead, he seems completely unfazed.
He cocks his head as I watch him, and I realize with a start that he’s waiting for my reply.
“Oh, um, no.” I pull away, and this time he lets me. “It’s broken.”
Not a lie, but still, I can’t manage to say it to his face.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t push like I expected him to. Instead, walking past me down the path a ways before calling for me to get moving.
“Come on, slowpoke, we need to grab your books and laptop before the store closes!”
Are all guys this weird?
My thoughts go to the only other guy I’ve ever had any kind of anything with, and I shake my head. Hopefully, Julez is nothing like him.