Chapter Four
My mind is foggy and simmering with rage as I take deep breaths. I’ve never had such a challenging time formulating thoughts, and it unnerves me.
Usually, my brain houses a filter that allows me to sort through the thoughts I need to trash, and the ones that need to be pushed to the forefront of my mind.
Today, that filter is nonexistent, and I find myself incapable of focusing on anything our teacher has said for the duration of the hour.
Something about a syllabus, the books we’re required to read, and an assignment due next week—that was all I could register throughout the entire class.
I can’t draw my attention to anything other than the issue at hand, and it feels like my brain is being forcefully condensed into a jar much too small, all because of Jameson Beaumont.
The only thoughts running through my mind revolve around the aggravation I’m feeling because of him. I’m struggling to prohibit my emotions from taking hold of me and running rampant.
I couldn’t be more grateful when the bell rings, signifying the end of first period.
“Are you okay?” Eloise asks as we collect our backpacks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
This morning, she thought I looked sick, and now like I’ve seen a ghost. Leave it to Eloise to be as honest as possible.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
We both know it’s a lie, but I’m glad Eloise knows not to push me further on the subject.
I wipe my hands down the fabric of my skirt, hoping to get rid of some of the sweat that has accumulated on my palms.
We find Winnie waiting for us in the hallway, and her face crooks with confusion when she sees the look on mine.
“Everything alright, Evie?”
I run my hands through my hair, giving her a look that says ‘I-really don’t-want-to-talk-about-this-now.’
She takes the hint and rests a hand on my shoulder momentarily. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I have ballet.”
“We can walk you there,” Eloise says, “We’re going to AP Gov, so it’s on our way.”
I don’t make conversation as we walk. I nod along, sometimes humming in amusement, mostly because of the familiar feeling that I’m suffocating—the walls closing in around me is the only thing I can focus on.
My mind is transported back to the last time this happened, and all of the calm within me is covered with a torrent of emotions, like an avalanche burying the landscape of my brain.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell Eloise and Winnie in a strained voice, turning abruptly into the entrance of the restroom.
“Evie,” I hear Winnie’s voice as I approach the sink.
“Jesus fucking Christ. A little warning next time?” Eloise falls into the bathroom. “It’s a warzone outside of this door.”
Eloise and Winnie continue talking, but I don’t hear a word of what they’re saying. I feel as though I am underwater.
I splash some water on my face, attempting to ease my mind, and the redness that has covered my face through my fury.
“Is this the Brandon situation all over again?” Eloise asks.
My entire body tenses at the mention of The Brandon Situation. “No,” I say quickly, making the bathroom go silent as I turn the sink off.
After a few minutes, I look up at the clock above the sinks; we have two minutes until our next class. I grab a paper towel, wiping my face before looking back toward Winnie and Eloise, who have been stunned into silence at my outbreak.
“Okay, let’s go.” I try to smile as I throw away the dirtied paper towels, but it’s no use.
This day has officially gone to shit.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I say to no one in particular as Winnie and I enter our third class of the day.
“What?” She asks.
Jameson Beaumont is standing directly in front of us.
“Please don’t tell me he’s in this class.”
“I’m assuming so,” Winnie replies, placing her bag at the desk behind mine, “I’m also assuming that you do not want to talk to him, and if that’s the case, I would prepare yourself because it looks like he’s walking this way.”
I sit in my seat, frozen, trying my best not to show any type of external reaction. Internally, I’m willing the floor to swallow me whole before he gets anywhere near me. That”s something Winnie would say.
“Oh, he is so hot, Evie,” Winnie whispers, sitting forward in her chair.
It”s no secret that Jameson is the hottest guy in the room. He definitely pulls off the Fairwood uniform quite well, but I would never admit that out loud.
“Do not talk about him like that,” I grit through my teeth. “He doesn”t deserve your praise.”
“I don’t?” Jameson asks.
Winnie gives me a sympathetic look. She must have known Jameson was within earshot when I said that.
I turn to face him. He may have thought his question was rhetorical, but I will not allow any boy to scare me into any type of shell. “No, you don’t.”
“I wanted to introduce myself to your friend, Genevieve.” His tone is almost condescending, but I don’t think it is intended to be demeaning.
He turns toward Winnie. “I noticed you from the group at the beach, and I presumed you to be Winnifred. Am I correct?”
I cannot believe he has the audacity to act this polite to my best friend after the things he said to me mere hours ago.
“Yes, I’m Winnifred. You can call me Winnie, though.”
“Winnifred,” he muses. “I’m Jameson.”
“Yeah, I think the accent gave that away,” Winnie replies.
God, she’s too nice.Meanwhile, I feel like the evil step-sister eavesdropping from afar.
“I expect to be seeing you around more, with you and Logan being so close and all.”
Winnie is taken aback by that. “I’m not sure if you’re suggesting what I think you are, but just so you know, Logan’s strictly my neighbor.”
“Really?” Jameson asks. “So, you two aren’t dating?”
I find his notion preposterous. Even though Eloise and I know there are further feelings between Winnie and Logan, that’s because they’re our best friends, Jameson is only making assumptions, which irks me.
Winnie doesn’t bat an eye, responding with a simple, “Nope.”
“Well, I’m sorry for assuming,” he apologizes, “I better get back to the lads, the bell’s about to ring.”
“Yup, of course.” Winnie nods.
“See you around, neighbor.” And when I think he’s about to head back to his seat, he adds. “You too, Genevieve.”
“Well, he’s—”
“If you say ‘nice,’ I will leave to go drown myself in the bathroom toilet.”
“What is your deal with him?” She questions, having zero context as to what had happened between Jameson and me.
I give her a pleading look. “Please don’t bring him up.”
She says nothing, but nods in reply.
The bell rings, signaling the beginning of the period. The room falls silent as the teacher walks in the room and students take their seats.
All but one, of course, because Logan walks in late.
He nods in courtesy to the teacher, a sympathetic look on his face as he scans the room for a seat.The only one left is behind Winnie, making it so he’s diagonally across from me.
“Nice to see you again, ladies.” He nods at me, his hand brushing Winnie’s shoulder as he sets his bag down and takes a seat.Logan leans toward me and whispers, “Gen, did something happen between you and Jameson?”
I want to throw my head against the brick wall behind me, but I withhold the urge.I don’t answer, instead I turn away from him and try to focus on anything but Jameson
The only thing on my mind is the hope that rumors about me and Jameson are not spreading like wildfire.