Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“Is he helpful during labs?” he asks.
“He’s getting his work done, but there’s no partnering happening at all.”
He drops into his chair. “Have you tried getting on his level?”
I scoff. “What level would that be?”
When Mr. Brando frowns, I look away.
“I tell you what,” he begins, so I give him my attention. “Since you’re the first person to approach not asking me to reconsider, I’ll help you out next class,” he says vaguely. “The rest will be up to you. Earn the grade, Ms. Davenport, and you might even earn a new friendship, too.”
I nod even though I got absolutely nowhere and drag myself to my next class.
Thank god it’s hump day, because I’m over this shit.
I’m surprised to find my mom’s car in the driveway when I get home, and even more so when she’s sitting at the little bar top, waiting for me.
Her eyes fall to my sports bra. “You had dance today?”
“Yeah, I was at the studio.”
She nods as she sets down her coffee cup and leans back in her seat. “So, Nico Sykes.”
Ah. Right.
Guess this is the first chance she’s had to grill me.
“He’s my new partner for lab.”
“Oh?”
“Mom, stop.” I wash my hands quickly, drying them on a paper towel. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I didn’t even say anything.” She gives an innocent shrug, running her finger over the rim of her cup.
I hold in my eye roll and wait, but it doesn’t take her long.
“I asked around, did you know it was him who was caught in a scandalized position with Mr. Clemmons’ daughter?”
I pull open the fridge.
Yes. One blue Gatorade left.
I unscrew the top and take a quick drink. “Yes, Josie was, or still is sometimes, his girlfriend.”
“Would you say he’s a troublemaker?”
“He’s a high school senior. It’s not like he was arrested.”
“Still, public indecency is real.”
“And Josie Clemmons didn’t even get her black card taken away.”
My mom nods, pretending to act casual. “That’s a wealthy girl, great family. I bet he seduced her with those... those eyes of his.”
I fight a laugh, grabbing a croissant from the box on the counter.
Even my dear mother who thinks she’s too good for the world can’t deny Nico’s visual appeal.
“Those eyes, Mom? Really?”
Hers narrow, warning me not to say another word, but just as quickly, she smiles. “I was thinking, maybe I should walk around the corner, say hello to the Sykes. Maybe invite them for dinner?”
A scoffed laugh escapes. “You don’t cook.”
Anger quickly fills her eyes, so I clear my throat and try again.
“Why the sudden interest in being neighborly?”
“He’s your partner.” She pretends her intent is innocent, when we both know that’s never the case when she’s involved. “Perhaps you’ll be smart, and we’ll be seeing more of him.”
“What does that mean, ‘be smart’?”
“Oh, please, Demi. If he had Roger Clemmons’ approval to date his daughter, then there must be something promising about the boy. It’s worth looking into.”
“So you want to, what, see if he meets your scale of measure?”
Her expression hardens, and she decides to belittle me as she feels I’ve done to her. “Put the bread away, Demi.”
I throw the croissant in the trash, set my Gatorade down with a hard slam, and walk out.
I’m not going to do this with her right now.
She knows Nico’s family is wealthy, and now that she’s seen his physical appeal, she’s interested in learning more so she can come to a shallow decision of whether or not she’ll hound me about him constantly or warn me to keep my distance.
My dad mentioned a long time ago Nico and his family inherited a huge estate from one of his mom’s late aunts or something that set them up for life and landed them here in Santa Cruz.
It must have been when Nico was a baby or something, because for as long as I can remember, he and I shared a fence.
Now we just happened to share a lab table, too.
There is no way it would ever be more than that.
Having Leadership first period is as equally awesome as it sucks.
Now that the voting is over and the class president and what have you has been picked, most of our time will be put into event planning, prep, or tear down, meaning most of our days will be spent outside of the classroom. The weather here is typically on the chillier side, so it’s a lot of hoodies and iced coffees all year long.
Thankfully, I had dance this morning and my blood is already pumping and I can manage staying warm while we wait for the sun to eat up all the coastal fog.
“How the hell did we get stuck with the worst job when we did the most work to set this shit up?” Alex laughs as he moves along the fence line, peeling the tape left over from the campaign posters we just got done tearing down.