She stands there, looking angry, but I don’t stick around to watch the outcome.
Walking past them, I head to Art, but I don’t see Masen in his seat. And by the time the bell rings, he’s still not there.
I just saw him in the hall. How does he get to just come and go as he likes and skip classes?
Luckily, though, Trey isn’t crashing class, either, so I make it through the entire period getting work on Misha’s cover done and being left entirely alone.
Even Manny is missing, probably having gone to the nurse to get his ear checked. I hope he’s okay. That had to hurt.
After class ends, I make my way to English, weaving through students as I slip into the classroom. Masen is sitting in his seat, and I pause, taken aback.
Jesus. What does he do? Put in appearances whenever he feels like it?
No books again, no visible pencil, and looks like he just showed up because he has nothing better to do. Isn’t he worried about graduating?
“Alright, take your questionnaires and go set the rest of your things down,” Mr. Foster instructs as we file into the room and he passes out papers. “And don’t forget to take a pencil. Once I call your names, you can pair up, take your things to the library, and begin working.”
Oh, that’s right. It’s Research Day.
Once in a while, Foster sends us to the library to let us work on our skills. He pairs us up, hands us a worksheet of information to find, and then we’re on our own for the whole period. It’s a reason to get out of class. I never complain.
“Lane, Rodney, and Cooper,” Foster calls from his roster.
Three students stand up, take their materials, and leave the room.
“Jess, Carmen, and Riley.”
He keeps going, one group after another, as the room slowly empties, and my nerves start to turn anxious when I realize there’s only a handful of people left, including Masen and me.
Please not him.
But Foster calls the next group. “Ryen, J.D., and Trey.”
I let out a breath of relief.
“Hell, yeah,” J.D. boasts, and I see him swipe a high-five at Trey next to him. I start to stand up, taking what I need.
“And last two…” Foster announces. “Lyla and Masen.”
I falter for only a moment and then swing my bag over my shoulder, hurrying out of the classroom.
Lyla and Masen. Great. She won’t be able to control herself.
I step out of the classroom, hardening my expression. Why do I even care? I don’t like him. I don’t give a damn if she flirts with him, which she’ll definitely do, so let her have at it. Fine.
She’s J.D.’s problem anyway.
And it doesn’t matter. Someone else already has my heart, and Masen Laurent isn’t him. He’ll never be Misha.
“My parents are out of town in a couple weeks,” Trey jogs up to me and places his hand on my waist as we walk. “I’m having a party, and I want you there.”
“Yeah, the pool’s heated,” J.D. adds behind us.
I look back, seeing Lyla and Masen following us, Masen’s eyes on me.
“Yeah, I know,” I tell J.D. “I’ve been in it. Remember?”
“Great,” Trey chimes back in. “So bring a swimsuit. Or don’t. Either way.”