Jo
I WAKE UP in an empty, cold room with all traces of Flynn gone. It doesn't even seem like he was here last night apart from the odd yellow sticky note plastered to my bedside table.
With bleary eyes, I yawn and stretch my arms before reluctantly dragging myself on the bed to the table and ripping off the note. Flynn's handwriting is instantly recognizable.
Thank you.
That's it. I'm still a little unfocused from my half-conscious state but I'm pretty sure the events of last night come rushing into my brain like a dose of ecstasy.
Oh, crap. I sit upright and run my hands down my face, cursing myself in my mind. I felt raw and open last night when I was talking to Flynn about Craig but was I that vulnerable enough to actually cuddle with him on the bed?
"Ugh," I groan as soon as I feel a headache starting to form and I clutch my head in my hands. I think of Flynn's mouth on mine, his fingers in my hair and his hard and warm chest beneath my head. I rub my eyes and groan a little more. All of this was to get Craig off my back and get Daniel's attention. So why do I suddenly feel giddy at the thought of seeing Flynn today?
The headache intensifies and when I gradually come to, I hear something beeping continuously. I direct my focus to the annoying alarm clock on the table but fortunately enough, I'm just about ten minutes behind schedule. I drag myself to the bathroom and shower with so much annoyance. I shower as though I want to scrub the feeling of Flynn's body wrapped around mine. I glare at the mirror as I brush my teeth and I brush as though I want to get his taste out of my mouth. When I turn around, I see the mini sundress from yesterday and my lips purse into a thin line.
You're beautiful.
My face heats up without warning and I grit my teeth as I bury the dress to the deepest part of my laundry basket. Oh god. I need to do something about whatever is going on in my head.
I stomp out of the bathroom with the aim of searching for something to wear and luckily that's not too much of a hassle because I'd picked this outfit during the weekend. I inject myself with my usual dose of insulin and hastily style my hair since I'm pretty much out of time now and I'm tying up the laces of my converses when mum knocks on my door.
"Jo?" Her voice is unusually cheery this morning. "You're going to be late for school."
"Coming," I holler in response and quickly grab my bag while trying to tie the second shoelace into a knot.
When I head down the stairs, I'm slightly surprised to hear more than two female voices which I'm very much used to. Woody's loud voice alerts me of his presence but as soon as I get to the bottom of the stairs, I'm so not ready for the other person sitting next to him at the counter.
I almost twist my ankles at the bottom of the stairs when I spot Flynn sitting on the stool in front of the breakfast bar with a genuine smile on his face. He's wearing his trademark black Tee and dark pants and his mouth is moving because apparently he's chewing something. In my house. In front of my mum and my grandma and Woody. Like they've known him forever.
Mum is the first to spot me. She's smiling like a Cheshire cat. Three pairs of eyes turn to me as soon as she speaks. "If you'd spent one more minute in your room, you'd be really late but you're not late enough to skip breakfast so hurry on up."
Flynn leans back on his stool and looks me up and down appreciatively and I won't deny the fact that it makes my heart hiccup against my will. He still has the band-aid on the bridge of his nose but apart from that, he looks completely fine. He gives me a little wave and then he mouths a 'Good morning'.
Relax, Jo. It was just one stupid, fake kiss.
I move towards the counter hoping my eyes are saying, 'What the hell is going on?' or rather 'What the hell are you doing here?' and then I greet grandma by planting a kiss on her head.
"Morning squirt," Woody greets and I narrow my eyes at him.
"Yeah, never call me that again."
"So," Mum starts as she fills my plate with pancakes. I fork a piece and take it into my mouth just as she continues. "You never introduced me to this friend of yours. He showed up this morning to pick you up for school but you weren't ready yet so I invited him in for breakfast."
"I had no idea he was coming, actually," I say pointedly with my eyes on his and he raises a confused brow.
"That breaks my heart, Jo," Woody dramatically sighs as he pours more syrup into his plate. "But it's all good I guess. I remember him. He was at the truck the other day trying to buy you food."
"He bought you food?" Mum asks with intent curiosity and I nod grimly hoping that if I look back, I might actually really turn into a pillar of salt. Then, there'd be no need for this conversation anymore.
I eye Flynn warily but before I say anything, grandma speaks up. "He's Talia's son, Madeline. Our supplier from book club?" Mum nods and grandma continues. "Cute boy, just like his mum. See? They have the same mouth. Here, eat some more," she insists, piling some more bacon, eggs and pancakes on his plate.
Flynn blushes good-naturedly and thanks her but she doesn't stop talking.
"Oh no worries," she grins. "Can't have Jo-Jo's boyfriend starving now, can I?"
A lot of things happen at once. Mum's eyes grow as wide as saucers. I start to cough because I'm very sure I just choked on the piece of pancake in my mouth. Woody, the one for dramatics of course, spits out the coffee he'd been guzzling and grandma raises a brow as if to ask, 'Y'all had no idea 'bout this?'
"WHAT?!" Woody exclaims like his head is on fire.
"Boyfriend?" Mum asks, her brows sky high but there's an excited gleam in her eyes.
"Again, WHAT?!" That's Woody for you.
Meanwhile, Flynnâthe very cause of my misery this morningâsips from his cup like a gentleman and watches all of our reactions and bites back a smile. He doesn't deny nor confirm grandma's accusation and that's when I realize he's waiting for me to say something.
"Umâ" My voice is a pitch higher than normal. "No. We're just friends, grandma." Friends who kiss and pretend to be in love and cuddle and spend the night on the same bed. "Where'd you get that idea from?"
Grandma looks comical as she speaks. "I'm pretty sure he was here lastâ"
"We need to get going. We're actually ten minutes late," Flynn smoothly says, cutting her in before she can get any more words out and then he stands to his feet and I stand too. Robotically if I may add.
"Yes," I cry as I round the counter and grab Flynn by the elbow. "This has been fun. Bye everyone."
"Waitâ" Mum says but grandma waves at us.
"You should stop by sometime again and say hi to your mum for me. Tell her I found The Lantern to be really boring."
Flynn smiles and nods, even though I'm dragging him away from the scene. "I will. And thanks for breakfast." He tells my mum and then I yank him out of the living room and shut the door close. I lead him out of our porch and when we get to his car, I decide to speak.
"What was that? You didn't tell me you were picking me up today." I say flailing my arms about.
He gives me a wicked smile. "Good morning to you too."
"Flynn."
"Did you not read the note?" He asks and I raise a brow and fold my arms.
"I did. You thanked me."
"And then, if you'd turned it over, you see the words 'I'm giving you a ride to school today. Makes sense since everyone thinks we're dating.'"
I unfold my arms feeling embarrassed. I won't admit to him that I read that note half-asleep so I say, "Whatever. Let's go."
I open the door before he can and I slide in and take a deep breath as he rounds the hood of his car and gets in. He puts the key in the ignition and I give him a look.
"What?" He asks.
"What's what?"
"You're looking at me weirdly."
"I don't know if it's advisable for you to be driving with that shoulder."
"But it's getting better," he says. "You did a good job last night."
"It was unprofessional. I'm really not meant to be popping shoulders back in place since I'm not a doctor."
"Yet." He says. "But it doesn't matter now. I feel better and good enough to drive. How'd you think I got home last night?"
"Speaking of," I lean back on my seat and place my bag on my thighs. "When'd you leave?"
"4:30," he replies, driving out of my neighborhood. "Why?"
"Nothing," I instantly say, looking away from him. "I was just curious. That's all."
He doesn't say anything for a while and then hesitantly, he asks, "Did you sleep well last night?"
I chew hard on my lip as I lean forward and turn on the stereo. "Yes." I find a Rage Nation song and tap on it. "Why?"
"I was just curious," he says, using my own words with a smile on his face. "That's all."
"I'm never going to a party on a Sunday night again." I tell him as I glance at my watch and see how late we are. In a few minutes, the first class will begin.
Flynn chuckles and steps on the gas and before I know it, LAKEVILLE HIGH SCHOOL is staring at me in block letters at the peak of the first academic building. Students are littered about, most heading inside to get to class but my focus is diverted when I spot Craig getting out of his car at the corner. There are a couple of guys from the swim team talking to him and when he turns, that's when I see how busted his face really is. His lips are swollen and his left eye is an angry shade of purple. There are a couple of band-aids on his nose, jaw and cheek and when I turn back to look at Flynn, I find him staring in the same direction.
"You hit him pretty good," I say, hoping it would calm the obvious storm that is currently brewing inside of him.
"Clearly not hard enough," he says and I look back to see them in a staring match. Craig is red hot from fury and his hands are balled into fists by his sides as he glares at Flynn from where he stands. Some of the guys look our way too and mixed looks are shared among them. He starts to head our way and the students lingering around start to turn. "Not after what you told me yesterday."
"Hey," I say but he's not listening. So I grab his face and press a kiss to his lips. He stiffens for a second but it's enough to distract him from whatever act of violence is playing in his head. I pull away from him and blink. Then I say, "Whatever is going on up there isn't worth it. Please, promise me you won't cause a scene."
The shrilling sound of the first bell resonates from inside the hallway and that successfully puts a halt to Craig's menacing steps. His nostrils flare as the bell continues to ring and then he turns around and leaves and I breathe a sigh of relief. It's way too early for any of his drama.
"Please." I say again as I grab my bag and hug it to my chest.
He grits his teeth and breathes through his nose. "Fine," he grumbles and takes the key out of the ignition.
"Thank you," I open the car door and grin. "Now, let's get to class. We're already late."
â
"THIS SEMESTER ENDS soon," Miss Anderson says but really, it sounds more like a warning than a friendly reminder. "And what that means is that I'll be expecting your essays on my desks anytime from now. No more extensions. And don't forget it makes a pretty significant percentage in this year's work so you know what to do."
Flynn relaxes further into his seat beside me and absentmindedly fiddles with my purple scrunchie. He'd tugged on my ponytail while we were heading to class because I'd told him he was walking like he was pregnant and then he snatched my scrunchie and left me to catch up with his fast strides.
I nudge him in the ribs and whisper, "Did you write the essay I told you?"
"Yeah," he nods. "I'm a pro when it comes to writing essays now."
I roll my eyes even though I'm smiling and then I watch Sara Marie Hotchkin's hand shooting up in the air like an iron rod. A couple of students groan just as she does so but she ignores them anyway.
"Yes, Sara?" Our English Lit teacher almost sounds exhausted.
She pushes her mousy hair aside and in that squeaky voice of hers, she asks, "Can we turn them in before the end of the semester? I've written about six versions of Emily Brontë's work already."
"Show off." Someone from the back grumbles and a few snickers spread round the class.
"Sure you can, Sara," Miss Anderson says and then she reaches out to grab her copy of the novel from the table. "If that's all, please turn your books to page 214."
We stopped at page 213 in the previous class so the bookmark I placed in between the pages easily allows me to be on track.
"Ashanti? Kindly take it from where we stopped previously."
Ashanti gets to her feet and I notice Flynn slouch further into his seat, like he's trying to disappear under the table. I raise a brow at his behavior but he doesn't look at me as he flips through the pages of his novel.
Ashanti is easily a fluent speaker so her words flow without any grammatical breaks or blunders. I silently read alongside her even though I've read this book about three times now so the words are very familiar to me. Miss Anderson cuts in after she's read for about fifteen minutes and tells her to sit and then she looks round the class and her eyes narrow at my direction.
I ready myself, thinking she's about to ask me to continue from where Ashanti stopped but she doesn't. Instead, she calls someone else.
"Flynn. Take it from there."
"I don't have my copy with me," he says calmly while he sneakily slips his copy into his backpack. I'm not sure why he's lying but to any other person, he looks like he's saying the truth.
"It's supposed to be with you in every English Lit class."
"Sorry," he shrugs unapologetically. "I guess I forgot."
She doesn't give up. She walks towards him and hands him her own copy. "Here. Use mine."
Flynn shakes his head adamantly. "No thanks."
Miss Anderson raises a brow. The whole class is staring at them now. Now that I think about it, I've never really noticed Flynn in English Lit. Compared to how notorious he is sometimes in other classes, he usually seems to be quiet in English.
"Why not?"
He breathes noisily, clearly frustrated. "I don't want to read."
She folds her arms like she expected this. "I'm the teacher and I'm asking you, why not?"
He ducks to grab his bag but he releases a shaky breath. "Because I don't feel like it."
"You don't have to feel like it to read it."
"Fuckâ"
"Language." She warns sternly.
He rolls his eyes and doesn't respond anymore. Sara diffuses the tension by shooting her hand up in the air and calling the attention of the teacher.
"I can take it from there." She offers and Flynn thrusts a hand out with a wry smile.
"See? Someone who feels like it. Thank you."
Miss Anderson sighs, muttering something about students under her breath before turning around and nodding at Sara to continue.
The class continues like nothing happened but Emily's writing isn't sticking anymore because Flynn still looks visibly shaken and he doesn't spare me a glance. And immediately after the bell rings, he walks out of the class without another word.