In the last class, I hurriedly left and texted Samantha that I had a late practice.
I'm afraid to tell her I can't be seen with her. Amber words. She'd ask me to choose between her and being a Hot Shot member. I love Samantha, but I always dreamed of being a part of the team, and now I am. I can't drop it so easily.
Amber is a devoted cheerleader and, as a nerd, obsessed with receiving high grades in every subject. Practice goes on for 4 hours. I was breathless on the gymnasium floor when we were finally through.
"You did great." Amber extended a hand to help me up.
I smiled while taking it.
We take a quick shower in the girl's locker room and arrange to meet again at the same time tomorrow.
The place is almost dark when I go outside.
Without asking if I needed a ride, everyone got into a car with their partner and drove off, leaving me alone.
I try calling my mom, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I guess I'd have to take a taxi. I go from the school compound to the bank of the road.
I try calling my mom again, hoping she will pick up this time, but still no answer.
"What a good mom you are for not caring about where your daughter is at this time." My voice rises in anger.
As I turn, I am stunned to see the guy I'm dared to kiss in the corridor driving a dark red Chevrolet car past me. One of his hands hangs from his car, and he smirks when he sees me in a cocky way.
My heart skips a beat at his reaction.
He stops his car before me.
"I'm heading straight, going my way," he asks.
I am tempted to remove the nerdish glass that is obstructing his attractive appearance, even though he is adorable.
"No," I say.
I was heading straight as well, but I was bothered that he saw me as a loose girl and wanted me in his car, hoping to have a good time with me.
"By offering you a ride, I'm not flirting with you," he states after observing my expression.
"I see a girl alone, and I want to help by asking her for a ride."
He's driving away.
"Wait," I stop him.
"I'm going your way," I say.
As I walk around his car to the front seat, he extends his body to open the door.
I get in, and he drives off.
The inside of the car is unlit—not enough for me to steal a glimpse of him. He fixed his attention on the road.
"So, you're a new student here?" I ask.
"Yes," he says.
His voice was raspy and manly enough for me and probably for all the girls he kissed.
"It's strange for a new student to be leaving school late, so soon." I'm curious why he's just leaving the compound.
No club goes on so late; training for sports and cheerleaders, yes, but never a club.
"And it's strange for a girl begging a guy she doesn't know an eerie dare to join some cheerleading team," he says.
He gets me on that one, and so I shut up, seeing that he isn't in any mood to talk.
A guy would be happy to be alone with a cheerleader, and I'm curious about his past life at his former high school. I could never ask that.
The car was producing a rattling sound, raising my concern.
"What is happening?" I ask.
The car slows down next to a gas station. He frightened me when he hit the wheel in frustration.
"Why do you have to break down now?" he complains, getting out of the car.
"Should I come out as well?" I wonder if I should.
I didn't know anything about a car, and though the car was going to explode, I felt it was best to safely get away from it.
"No, stay," he orders.
I sat worried and watched him as he went to lift the hood of the car.
I heard him tut in annoyance.
"What is wrong?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says, and soon he's coming from the hood of the car and shoves his sweater in the back seat. I spot the lubricant stain on his sweater right after eyeing his long athletic arms, and I'm left open-mouthed to see a dark tribal tattoo that looks like a flash of lightning on both of his inner arms.
"Give me a minute," he says, returning to repair the car.
He isn't a nerd. He can never be. I observe his back as he walks away. It broadens with layers of muscle and makes the neck wider at the base. He's fit for a nerd. No nerd I've known has a muscular body. They were too busy training their brains, and, worst of all, they would never get a tattoo.
Like a kid awoken by the sight of sweets, I lean into the seat to glimpse his body. He reclines over the car; his eyes focus on whatever he is doing, and his hands toil. My gaze halts at his chest, jutting from his white t-shirt. His body rises, and I pretend as if I weren't watching him. The hood of the car locks, and he goes to the bathroom. He returns, no longer having an oily hand.
He gets in the car, and I watch his tattooed hand turn on the engine and thrust the gearstick, going back onto the road. I'm burning with curiosity if there's more tattoos beneath his shirt.
"How far is your home?" he asks, his eyes focused on the road.
"5 minutes away," I say.
I received a message on my phone. Amber texted me in the squad group.
I'm sorry, I went off without asking you for a ride. She texted.
I smile before answering it. It is thoughtful of her.
It's okay. I got a ride, and I texted back.
Our conversation ends with a smiling emoji.
"This is my stop here," I say.
I realize that I didn't get his name. I was too bewitched by his body to ask him.
The car slows down at my house—a white 2-story house with neatly trimmed lawn grasses.
"I'm Jaylee, by the way, and your name is," I say before leaving the car.
"Nate," he responds.
I thank him and leave the car.
I watch his car as it drives off, slowly vanishing into the distance.
Tristan had been my biggest crush since the first time I laid eyes on him in class during our first year at Effney High. I recall stealing glances at him when his attention was glued to his book, wishing it was me he was so focused on. I used to be overwhelmed with wonderous feelings whenever he walked past me in the school's corridor, until he no longer had that same effect after sharing my first kiss with Nate.Tristan's head remained lowered as I walked over to him.Even when he's drunk, I still get nervous around him."Tristan," I call as I stand before him.He slowly raises his head, and as he does, he rakes a handful of hair from his face, brushing them backward, like a hot character from a teenage romance movie—making my heart skip a beat, which I find attractive, despite the fact that he was extremely intoxicated."What do you want?" His bewitching blue eyes looked at me for a second before drifting all over the place, unable to stay focused.I never had a conversation with hi
It's the weekend; I should be hanging out with a friend instead of laying in bed mulling over a guy who doesn't want me. It's almost evening, and I'm still in my pajamas.Forcing myself out of bed, I go to stand before the mirror. Combing a handful of hair out of my face, I notice myself in the mirror.Why didn't Nate fall for me instead of Sophia? I think downheartedly.Weren't I beautiful enough for him? Walking away from the mirror, I fall backward on the bed.I believed being a HotShot cheerleader and walking among the popular ones would give me the privilege to get any guy I wanted, but it didn't. If Sophia hadn't gotten in the way of Nate and me, things might have turned out differently for us.What am I thinking? I reach for the pillow covering my head.Nate had admitted he had no feelings for me, so there was no hope of us getting together if Sophia wasn't in the picture.But why Sophia, though?Out of all the girls at school, he had to choose her. I wish it was someone else,
I'm coming from Mom's car when Amber shouts my name. Amber is at the side of the school building; her phone is at her right ear; she is talking to someone; and Sookie stands beside her.I approach her, and she hangs up the phone. Amber smiles at me, and it doesn't feel right. She's up to something, and I know it."How is everything about getting Nate to be your boyfriend?" She asks, then places an arm around my shoulder, drawing me to her side.I caught Sookie with a smug on her face, and I was certain that Amber was up to no good.The aching memory of Nate turning me down after I had confessed my true feelings to him struck my mind, and I lowered my head."He has a girlfriend," I tell Amber."And so, you decide to give up," says Amber.Keeping my head lowered, I give a sad nod."Well, his relationship didn't stop Sophia from chasing after him," Amber says, maintaining a straight gaze.I lift my head to see what she's looking at, and my eyes widen to see Sophia sitting in the front se
It's Saturday, and I'm outside mowing the lawn when Mom pops up with a cup of water.Stopping, I turn to her and take it, quenching my thirst."Thanks," I say, handing her back the cup.She takes it and starts to play with the end of her hair, twisting it around a finger, and her eyes, as dark as mine, scrutinize the areas I'd mowed.She does this when she's nervous, and I find out she wasn't just there to give me a cup of water; there was more to it."Mom, is there something you want to tell me?" interestedly, I ask.Quickly, her eyes jump to me, and worries mixed with fear take over.Finding out what she wanted to say, I angrily resumed mowing, refusing to hear anything.She runs in front of the lawn mower. I stop, almost running her over."I could have hurt you," I growl."We have to talk about this, Nate," she says, standing firmly before me."I don't want to hear anything you have to say about that man!" I'm walking away."Nate," she chases me down."How long have you been talkin
For an hour, I had Sophia in my arms; she'd fallen asleep.My phone vibrates. I retrieved it from my pocket.Training late, Mom texted.No, I'm with a friend; I'll be there soon. I texted back.Okay, come home soon.I put my phone down and watched Sophia sleep. She's beautiful when she sleeps, and I find myself developing feelings for her.I wish I could let her sleep more in my arms, but I must go."Sophia." I gently touch her shoulder."Hmm," she moans, her eyes open."I'm sorry, but my mom needs me," I say."It's okay," she says, sitting up and rubs her eyes."Should I take you home or leave you at the gas station?" I ask.I'd hate to cause any more trouble for her and her mother."At the gas station," she says.I nod.As we arrive at her stop, she says, "Thank you, Nate, for being here for me.""My pleasure, and feel free to call me whenever you need someone to talk to again," I say with a smile.She's about to open the car door to leave."When are you coming back to school?" I as
It's Tuesday, and I'm at swimming practice. Brimworth, the coach, approaches me as I get out of the pool."Nate, your phone has been ringing like crazy for about an hour. Go and see who it is. It must be something very important for someone to be calling like that," he says, walking off.I was worried something might have gone wrong with Mom like Dad finding out where we lived. I ran to the locker room and burst open my locker with the wildest thought that Dad had her lying on the floor, choking her.There's a possibility it can happen. I left her at home, not feeling too well, and she probably heard him at the door, though it was me.Fishing my phone from my backpack, the worries fade away when I see it was Sophia calling thirty times, and no missed call from mom, which means she's okay.I return Sophia's call. After the incident with the sex buyer, I haven't heard from her, nor has she been at school. It's good to hear from her now."Hey Nate, I'm sorry I haven't answered any of you