Chapter 43

Arabella Rivera I hated this. I hated that I cared. I hated that I had such a feeling towards, him. He didn’t deserve it. He’d been an asshole ever since he’d started speaking to me.

Going as far as dirtying me. Mocking me for his own amusement. And, kissing me without knowing that he had unintentionally drugged me.

Gwen was right. Mother was right. Everyone was right about, him. He was chaos. He was bad and he was the worst person to ever care for. But he was, human. He had emotions.

And my fucking body can’t seem to let go of the way he kissed me. One fucking kiss and my eyes can’t seem to stop wandering around for a glimpse of him as I walked the half empty halls.

Fuck him. Fuck him and the feelings he painted inside me.

I was good with just getting a glimpse of him through my window. I was okay with hearing the girls’

laughs and fearful mougar my www.WORLY WITH aring the girls’ laughs and fearful screeches as they climbed the tree to his window.

I was okay with hiding behind my curtain to scrutinize his actions. I was okay with him ignoring me like we weren’t neighbors for years. I was okay with it all.

But suddenly, like a gust of wind knocking down an empty cup, everything changed. Now Haiden’s eyes meet mine every time I look out my window. Now m y heart leaps into a frenzy when he so much as speaks to me. Now I can’t seem t o get him out of my head. I hate it.

“Dude what the hell got into you back there!? Are you fucking crazy, one more strike and no graduation, no school, no college. You’ll be stuck here”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” His voice made me halt in my tracks I was stupid to think that I wasn’t wandering the halls in search of him. In an odd way, I needed to know that he was okay.

“But I couldn’t just stay there and act like what Jamal was saying was okay man. He -fucking disrespected her-”

Tucking disrespected ner Who is this ‘her’ they keep speaking of?

“Would it be worth it?” The distinct male voice interrupts Haiden’s vexed tone.

“‘Would what be worth it?” Haiden voiced out.

Without even knowing, my feet seem to carry me over towards the closed door where their voices came from. In a sick way, I liked the sound of his voice, even when it was coated by a wave of weighing anger that trembled my insides.

I got a few confused penetrating stares from teens who passed by. I ignored them as I lean closer towards the door.

“Losing a friend because of her.” The boy finally uttered. For a few moments, it was deathly quiet.

Then Haiden answered in a short clipped tone that weighed with verity. “Yes.”

Another moment of silence, this time I could feel the tension emanating from within the closed classroom. So caught u p in my eavesdropping, I didn’t quite hear their approaching footsteps until I heard the clicking of the door being heard the clicking of the door being opened.

I could feel the raging of heat snaking its way to my face to embarrass me even further as my eyes snap to a set of dark eyes then brown. The boy who tugged Haiden away looked down at me in shock then cleared his throat.

“See you later man.” He mumbles to Haiden and nods stiffly at me. “Arabella.” He quickly leaves Haiden and I all alone.

I was too absorbed in peering at Haiden’s face to be shocked that the guy knew my name while I didn’t even know the first letter of his A bruise. It wasn’t dark but one could see the faint discoloring under his eye. Did the other guy get a hit without me realizing? No that was impossible. I had been to set on the two to miss any swift action “What happened to you?” It took me quite a few seconds to realize that the words came out of my mouth.

I didn’t even care to be seen talking to Haiden. It was like my mind hadn’t registered that I could potentially be in trouble if Gwen d potentially be in trouble if Gwen found out.

Haiden’s shocked stare swiftly curtains back into a blank stare as he leans on the doorframe with ease.

“Eavesdropping I see?” His question was not one you’d answer to seeing that it didn’t leave room for a response.

He clicked his tongue, upper lip lifting to flash a quick smirk. “I’m really starting t o think you’re a stalker Bella.”

I didn’t fail to realize that he was avoiding answering my question. But by doing so, it only seem to make the curiosity rage on. “You didn’t answer my question.” I pointed out.

Haiden’s features darkened and he stops leaning against the doorframe and swiftly pushes his hands in the front pockets of his sweater. Without so much a sa warning, he utters dryly. “Why should I? It’s not like you’d care anyway.” He brushes me, not roughly but enough to have me stumble back a step.

He doesn’t turn around while hissing out. “Why don’t you stick to your own problems and your so-called perfect life blems and your so-called perfect life and quit worrying about mine.!

I don’t watch as he walks away, too unsure of what he’d say next. His words were harsh and I was ashamed to admit that my heart pained when I detected the rough tone of his anger directing towards 1. me.

He was right.

I should stick to my own problems and not meddle in his. I don’t think I can handle his anyway, seeing that he came with a shit ton of baggage.

With that thought, I made my way to the literature class knowing Mr. Boyd would b e there. The man never seems to leave that classroom. Sometimes I feared that i fa fire were to break out, someone would have to drag the unwilling begrudging man out with more force than necessary.

“Come in.”

I let out the tense breath I was holding and pried the door open. Mr. Boyd’s eyes were transfixed on the screen of his phone and he had not bothered to lift his one and he had not bothered to lift his head. On the desk before him was a half eaten sandwich and a bottle of orange juice.

After standing there awkwardly for a few seconds, Mr. Boyd finally spares me his attention. His dark eyes lift to my awkward form and he places his phone down on the desk beside his sandwich. “O h Arabella.”

Then his brows pinched together. “Did you need something?”

Yes a big and bold A, preferably in bright red. But I pinched my lips together.

An image of my scowling mother and father as they see the grade makes my stomach twist uncomfortable. A sheen of sweat coats my brows as I spluttered out. “Was the poetry I wrote missing something? Was it awfully written? Did it not meet your expectations?”

Mr. Boyd’s brows raise to his hairline, not quite expecting me to let out so many words in such a short span of time. After reigning in his shock he sighs, leaning his back on the chair. “Quite the opposite really. Your poetry was the best by far.”

Teany. your pueury was une pesupyntan Confusion tightened on my features, consuming me until I spoke up. “Then why give me a B?”

His fingers drummed on the desk, irritating me. “Because it was awfully presented. The paper was dirty and ruffled in many places. Yes, your words were touching but anyone who reads it can tell that the author didn’t feel the emotion they tried portraying.”

I get the dirty paper but his last words were not making sense to me. Mr. Boyd notices my confusion and decided to cut me some slack. “Look, you can’t write about love if you’ve never felt it. The emotion can’t easily be expressed on paper if the writer doesn’t know anything about it.”

His words shocked me. How can he tell all of this by just reading a short poem?

I took a step forward. I needed that markt o change. “Then let me fix it.” I offered with determination. “Let me write it over please?” I begged.

Mr. Boyd looked contemplating as he continued to stare at me. “That wouldn’t tinued to stare at me. That wouldn’t be fair to the other students”

“Please Mr. Boyd. Like you’ve said the poetry was good, I just needed to pour my emotions into it. I can do it. Please?”

I must be looking ridiculous right now, getting emotional just to change a grade. But I needed this grade, I needed every grade so I’d have the chance to get away from my family. I needed to get away.

Mr. Boyd sees my desperation and sighs.” Fine. But only if you do something.”

“What?” I asked quickly already feeling lighter by his words.

“There’s a student that’s lagging on some work in this class. You’re the best student in this class so far. I want you to tutor that student until the end of this term. If you do so, I’ll give you the chance to rewrite your poem.” He tapped his fingers on the surface of the desk while looking in thought.

I nodded eagerly. “I’ll do it.”

Mr. Boyd hummed. “Great. I’ll have you two meet on Monday. Hopefully he agrees with this. It’s not like he has a rees with this. It’s not like he has a choice anyway.” His last words were soft and not directed for me but I still caught them.

Wonder who’s the guy? 1