Read Online September Rain Bk 2, Savor The Days Series by A.R. Rivera - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.R. Rivera
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ending up in a world like
this had never entered my mind . . .
+++
It was another shitty Monday. I was
strolling into Chemistry, tardy again.
Ms. Shine looked down over
the rims of her glasses and scribbled into the attendance log.
Changing the absent A to a T . Not
wanting a show, I tossed her an apologetic look and mouthed ‘girl
problems,’ while gesturing to my stomach.
Ms. Shine acknowledged with a slight
nod before standing from her desk and calling the class’ attention
to the white board where she’d written the assigned reading to
prepare for tomorrows’ lab. The class was to commence learning
right away.
I sat in my assigned chair at the
table I shared with Troy Bleecher. As with most days, he did not
acknowledge me. He’d already opened his textbook and was searching
for the assigned page.
I wasn’t usually the one who started
our conversations, I left that up to Troy, but that day was
different. I needed to talk to him. But no one could ever accuse
Troy of making things easy.
I’m not saying
anything , I thought stubbornly, leaning
down to unzip my back pack. Glancing up, I saw that he wasn’t
facing me. In fact, the way he was turned, it looked like he was
concentrating on ignoring me. I took my binder and text book out to
begin the reading assignment as the burn of resentment welled up
and I decided he could go fuck himself.
Half way through the second page, Troy
had the nerve to lean in. Not much, but just enough for me to know
he was going to speak.
“Why did you bother telling me if you
weren’t going to let me do anything about it?” His voice was so
quiet, I could barely hear.
I didn’t turn, but
effectively glared from the corner of my eye. “Your doing is the reason I’m
in this situation. How’s your girlfriend ?”
Troy had been dating this bitch named
Rosa on and off since the previous summer. I suspected, from a
fight that had taken place in the girls bathroom earlier that day
that Rosa was trying to use Angel to get to me, and from the blank
look on Troy’s face, I knew the rumors were true: they were back
on.
“Good news travels fast.” His tone was
flat, barely audible.
I cast a quick glance at Ms. Shine
before drawing my loaded gaze back to Troy. “Why?” I asked, truly
curious, but sounding forceful. I wanted to sound as if I were
talking about the assignment instead of our secret, non-existent
relationship. “Why did you go back with her?”
Troy shook his head the way he always
did when he sensed I might want something from him, like common
courtesy or respect. It was his way of warning me that I should
lower my voice and the bar of expectation.
“It’s not like you don’t have your own
things going on.”
I acknowledged with a tight nod. “You
can lock your window from now on.”
“I will.” He turned back to his
book.
For some reason I couldn’t unearth, I
liked that douche bag. He really was a terrible person and I
couldn’t stay away from him. Troy was an absurd contradiction of
cocky and sweet, smart and stupid, funny and lame. And I had been
sneaking out two or three nights a week to see him for the past
several months. Even though we would meet in different places—the
street outside his house, the park down the road from his place, or
sometimes at the stop sign at his corner—it seemed I always ended
up sneaking into his bedroom (it’s not like anything in Carlisle
was open after nine) and letting Troy do whatever he wanted, before
walking myself home as if it never happened.
Once, I didn’t leave his place until
four in the morning. I lived over two miles away and he didn’t even
get out of bed.
Another time, I left around one in the
morning and as I was walking myself home, I noticed a guy on a BMX
bike following me. I walked faster, but the strange boy kept
peddling, slow as could be, like he was trying to keep pace with
me, but also stopping here and there to tie his shoe or light a
cigarette—which kept him a creepy half-block
this had never entered my mind . . .
+++
It was another shitty Monday. I was
strolling into Chemistry, tardy again.
Ms. Shine looked down over
the rims of her glasses and scribbled into the attendance log.
Changing the absent A to a T . Not
wanting a show, I tossed her an apologetic look and mouthed ‘girl
problems,’ while gesturing to my stomach.
Ms. Shine acknowledged with a slight
nod before standing from her desk and calling the class’ attention
to the white board where she’d written the assigned reading to
prepare for tomorrows’ lab. The class was to commence learning
right away.
I sat in my assigned chair at the
table I shared with Troy Bleecher. As with most days, he did not
acknowledge me. He’d already opened his textbook and was searching
for the assigned page.
I wasn’t usually the one who started
our conversations, I left that up to Troy, but that day was
different. I needed to talk to him. But no one could ever accuse
Troy of making things easy.
I’m not saying
anything , I thought stubbornly, leaning
down to unzip my back pack. Glancing up, I saw that he wasn’t
facing me. In fact, the way he was turned, it looked like he was
concentrating on ignoring me. I took my binder and text book out to
begin the reading assignment as the burn of resentment welled up
and I decided he could go fuck himself.
Half way through the second page, Troy
had the nerve to lean in. Not much, but just enough for me to know
he was going to speak.
“Why did you bother telling me if you
weren’t going to let me do anything about it?” His voice was so
quiet, I could barely hear.
I didn’t turn, but
effectively glared from the corner of my eye. “Your doing is the reason I’m
in this situation. How’s your girlfriend ?”
Troy had been dating this bitch named
Rosa on and off since the previous summer. I suspected, from a
fight that had taken place in the girls bathroom earlier that day
that Rosa was trying to use Angel to get to me, and from the blank
look on Troy’s face, I knew the rumors were true: they were back
on.
“Good news travels fast.” His tone was
flat, barely audible.
I cast a quick glance at Ms. Shine
before drawing my loaded gaze back to Troy. “Why?” I asked, truly
curious, but sounding forceful. I wanted to sound as if I were
talking about the assignment instead of our secret, non-existent
relationship. “Why did you go back with her?”
Troy shook his head the way he always
did when he sensed I might want something from him, like common
courtesy or respect. It was his way of warning me that I should
lower my voice and the bar of expectation.
“It’s not like you don’t have your own
things going on.”
I acknowledged with a tight nod. “You
can lock your window from now on.”
“I will.” He turned back to his
book.
For some reason I couldn’t unearth, I
liked that douche bag. He really was a terrible person and I
couldn’t stay away from him. Troy was an absurd contradiction of
cocky and sweet, smart and stupid, funny and lame. And I had been
sneaking out two or three nights a week to see him for the past
several months. Even though we would meet in different places—the
street outside his house, the park down the road from his place, or
sometimes at the stop sign at his corner—it seemed I always ended
up sneaking into his bedroom (it’s not like anything in Carlisle
was open after nine) and letting Troy do whatever he wanted, before
walking myself home as if it never happened.
Once, I didn’t leave his place until
four in the morning. I lived over two miles away and he didn’t even
get out of bed.
Another time, I left around one in the
morning and as I was walking myself home, I noticed a guy on a BMX
bike following me. I walked faster, but the strange boy kept
peddling, slow as could be, like he was trying to keep pace with
me, but also stopping here and there to tie his shoe or light a
cigarette—which kept him a creepy half-block
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