Page 22 of Life Lessons
“What about Aaron, you not partnering with him?” I ask, wondering how her night ended.
“Nope, we will not be seeing each other again. He actually had the nerve to kiss some drunken blonde bimbo in the alley while Sam and Danny were calling me an uber. They brought me home, and I made it clear to Aaron we were done. End of that conversation,” she explains with a small smile.
“Fine, let’s go to the cafeteria, but you are buying the coffee,” I retort and she laughs, pulling me along a lot quicker than we normally move. Of course, the idea of coffee being too expensive for her is hilarious. You wouldn’t know it from her rainbow hair, or carefree personality, but Trixie is from one of the richest families in the country. I’m just glad nobody knows who my parents are.
We make our way into the dining hall, and sure enough it is packed with not only jocks, but a lot of other people too. On one side is a more formal dining room setting, but on the other is more an on the go, grab whatever you need buffet style set up. This side of the room had sofas, and bean bags for people to sit together. The whole idea is that it’s a retro style cafe where students can come have a drink, have some snacks, and just hang out together. I must admit, because the bitchy girls including Harriett have a penchant for this place, I tend to keep as far away from it as possible.
Walking into the cafe and over to the counter to place our order, I feel eyes boring into the back of my head. I look down to make sure in my haste I hadn’t thrown on anything that was dirty. Fuck, I am wearing the t-shirt I stole from Jett when I was cleaning his house. To everyone else, they will probably think it’s mine. It’s baggy like all my other clothes. But if he sees me, he will know. Luckily, he won’t be in the cafeteria for another couple of hours, if he comes here at all. I can’t imagine him just coming for a drink, maybe for the food at dinner time, but not randomly.
We place our orders at the counter, and Trix, who has been on her phone texting since we arrived here, turns to me with the same puppy dog eyes that got me to say yes to the damn sports day.
“Since I paid, can you carry them and I will get us a seat?” she says, looking at me with the saddest eyes.
“Fine,” I say as I roll my eyes, but I really don’t mind. Or at least I don’t mind until I see where she is heading.
Sat along the right hand side, is a massive group of around ten guys. They have obviously pulled tables together, or pulled across extra chairs because there are more people in that small space than there should be. That is definitely the table we need to head towards and when I see Jackson and Harley, I know that group is exactly who we need to target to find our partners. Those two are basically like the head jocks and so everyone who hangs around with them will play some form of sport. But I already told Trixie, when she was spitballing potential victims who would have the pleasure of teaming up with us, that Jackson and Harley, although they are the best, there’s no way they will team up with us. They have a burning desire to win, and there’s no way they can do that with Trix. Whoever teams with me wouldn’t be in with a bad chance, but they don’t know that. So, I told her to aim a little lower.
I watch her making her way towards the group, and I feel my heart starting to race, while I hold my breath. Fuck, she is walking straight towards the table with Sam, Danny, and Jett, which is right next to the big group of guys. What the fuck is he doing here?
I’m mentally moving her along, past them, but of course she doesn’t move. She stops to talk to them, her body language making it very clear that the young foster brothers have her full attention. I briefly wonder what that is about, remembering they brought her home last night, and knowing I need to file that information away for another conversation at a later time. For now, I look over at the drinks counter and see there are at least two or three people ahead of me still waiting to collect their drinks. So, I take out my phone.
This morning, before I slipped out to run to the cafeteria to grab the coffees and pastries, I found Jett’s phone and added my number into his phone. I made sure to add it under a name he wouldn’t get in trouble for if discovered. Hence, why I called myself Booty Call. I also pulled his number and set it into my own phone, making sure to call him something nobody would be suspicious of. I scroll through until I locate Moody Bastard and then decide to send him a text. Part of the game plan I had been formulating in my brain for most of the morning involved him seeing how mature I am, not letting him think of me as a student, and also showing him that I am a no pressure kind of girl. So, the fact he is going to see me hanging out with a load of teenage males, right next to him, all while wearing the t-shirt I stole from him, can only lead him to think I am in fact a psycho stalker. I need him to think differently.
Booty Call: I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t know you would be here.
Moody Bastard: Who is this?
Booty Call: The girl who had amazing sex with you last night. I swapped numbers just in case. But I wanted you to know T invited me, I didn’t know you would be here.
I see his eyes scan the room, he obviously knew T meant Trixie, given she’s standing at his table, but either he hadn’t wanted to or he couldn’t bring himself to look for me. Now his eyes are scanning the whole of the cafe and I feel the moment they land on me, his eyes burning a hole into my soul as they sear over me.
Moody Bastard: Is that my t-shirt?
I can’t help the little laugh that comes out, of all the things for him to worry about, the t-shirt tops the list. I can see he is trying not to look at me, but the little glances he throws my way are different to what I am used to. He has always thrown untrusting, assessing glances but now his gaze is more heated, more relaxed. Like he is simply looking at me, rather than trying to figure me out, or looking confused when I would do something that goes against the character he expected me to be. Talking about our pain helped, I think. Made us both seem more real to the other person, not just the cardboard cut out that most teenagers are. I decide, after taking on board his lighter tone, that I should respond the same way.
Booty Call: Yes, I borrowed it. Wanna take it off me? I’m not wearing a bra.
His eyes snap up to meet mine the second he receives the text and his eyes, although initially seem disapproving, don’t remain so for long as they travel down to the fabric covering my chest. His gaze becomes heated, no doubt imagining me without the top on last night. Before I can let my mind wander, the server behind the counter calls my name. I put my phone in my pocket, feeling the buzz at his incoming message, but I have to grab our drinks. I thank the lady who gives me the drinks, something she is shocked by since I have just watched four people take the drinks from her without a word of thanks. Fuck, rich people can be assholes. I hate the idea that I was ever like that.
When I turn back around, I see that Trix has obviously finished talking to the brothers and she has managed to worm her way into the centre of the group of guys, sitting right next to our teachers. She has pushed herself between two guys who are sitting on one of the sofas. They looked just about comfortable before with two big jocks sitting together on a small loveseat, but with Trixie in the middle, now they look very snug. I could hear jokes all around about them making a Trixie sandwich and that the next step up is a hog roast. Either Trix has no idea what that means or she doesn’t care.
I deliberately don’t look at Jett as I walk past, standing on the outskirts of the group, waiting and wondering where I should sit.
“Hey, Abs. Come and sit over here,” shouts Harley, who is sitting on a loveseat with Jackson. Better the devil you know with those two I guess, instead of worrying about some other handsy fucker. I hand Trixie her coffee and put mine on the table as I feel Jackson pull me down into the very small gap between them.
Fuck, I really should have thought this through. The direction of this sofa means I am directly facing the back of the brothers, but Jett, who is sitting opposite them, I have a very clear view of. And right now, he has a face like thunder. I feel another vibration go off in my pocket, but I know I can’t check it with those two so close by. I don’t want to risk them reading my messages over my shoulder.
Instead, I try to catch up with the conversation, but everyone appears to be talking at once. All eyes are on Trixie, and I can’t help but groan when I pick up on what they are talking about. She has told them we want to enter the medley and they are willing to put in as much training time as necessary to come out on top. I’m sure she is trying to make things sound as sexual as possible, and it appears to be working because the cute, blonde lad sat next to her does appear to be sporting a very sizable bulge at her mention of coming on top. Harley is the one to break through all the noise and demands attention when he speaks.
“Shut up, everyone,” he shouts, turning his head to face me. “You need a partner, baby girl, and you didn’t bother to ask me. I am hurt.” He is looking at me and he has a set of sad eyes that could rival Trixe’s. But she is my friend and I have to allow her to win, his eyes I don’t have to respond to.
“I just assumed you or Jackson would wanna go with athletes, to increase your chances of winning,” I say honestly. Both Jackson and Harley look insulted by this.
“Hell no, not when I can partner with you,” replies Jackson, and Harley confirms he feels the same way.
“Erm, thanks. So, which one wants to partner with me? The other has to go with Trixie, she needs to do well to pass phys ed,” I say, and once again the crowd of voices all reply at once. Trix smiles at me with a large smile, knowing that even just turning up with one of these two guys on her team would get her a pass.
I can make out Jackson and Harley both saying they want to be my partner, and then arguing with each other over who gets to do it. Then there is a chorus of males, all sitting around Trix who are questioning her as to how the hell she’s failing the easiest subject they teach at the school. One of them is saying how he knows Trix is smart, as they share the same science lessons, but then another argues that she can’t be that smart to fail gym. That then gets Trix involved, and her protests are far too high pitched for my ears. I take a sip of my delicious toffee hazelnut latte and risk a look at my phone while the boys are distracted.
