Worried? Yeah, right.This wasn’t supposed to be how today went. I wanted to crawl under my desk. Instead I had to sit there, my heart rate increasing by the second with his eyes on me.
“Maybe next time avoid the punch altogether.”
Please don’t talk about this. Ever.“Yup.” I jotted down the health food idea in my notebook.
“We should probably exchange numbers for the project, don’t you think? And that way I can text you if I’m ever worried again.”
I forced my eyes not to roll. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Rob laughed. “Shot down, buddy. Sanders, you’re even cooler than I realized.”
“Okay, so no phone number,” Matt said. “We’re going to have to work on this outside of class though. So I need a way to contact you.”
My notebook page was very interesting so I didn’t look up. “I think we should just roll with the fitness thing since we’re all sopassionate about it. We can split up the work for the project and do it independently.”
“Double shot down,” Rob said with a laugh.
Matt leaned forward even more, his strong forearms dangerously close to my notebook. “I was kind of hoping that we’d work really really dependently. Lots of visits to each other’s houses. Late-night study sessions. That kinda thing.”
I looked up at him to tell him he was ridiculous. That this project didn’t need study sessions because it was a project and not a test. But I swallowed down my words when I looked into his chocolaty brown eyes.
He smiled.
My throat made an awkward squeaking noise.
And the bell rang to save me.
“See you tomorrow, Sanders,” Rob said. “We’ll hash out the rest of our topic so you never have to hang out with Matt outside of school.”
At least Rob understood what I wanted. I quickly shoved my notebook into my backpack and zipped it closed. Before I stood up, I noticed a piece of folded up paper on top of my desk. It hadn't been there a few seconds ago. I picked up the paper and unfolded it.
I’m sorry about the past few weeks. Let me make it up to you. Meet me in the auditorium in five.
I looked up to see Matt walking away. He was the last one leaving the room. I knew it was from him even though he hadn’t signed it. But he didn’t realize that actions spoke louder than words. Being nice to me in one class didn’t make up for weeks of silence. A simple note didn’t make up for it either. It was just further proof that he didn’t want anyone to know he was speaking to me. Forced to be in a group with the new loser of Empire High was one thing. Voluntarily hanging out with them? Social suicide.
I pulled my bag over my shoulder and made my way past Mr. Hill who I swear glared at me. Instead of turning left toward the auditorium I went right toward my locker.
There was nothing I needed to say to Matt. I didn’t want to play whatever game he was playing. And the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like I was being set up for something awful. He had talked to Charlotte before inviting me to the auditorium. She and Isabella and all the Untouchables were probably waiting there to make fun of me. I wouldn’t be part of their prank.
Still, I found myself putting the note in my blazer pocket instead of tossing it in the trash where it belonged. I hated how nice it felt next to my heart. I hated that even thinking about Matt still made me feel like I was breathing easier. And I hated how badly I wanted to run to the auditorium, even though I knew he wasn’t sorry.
Untouchable - Chapter 13
Monday
“What are you looking at?” Kennedy asked.
We were sitting at my uncle’s kitchen table going over our notes about Jane Eyre for our test later this week. But instead of looking at my English notes I was staring at the note from Matt. I quickly turned the page in my notebook, hiding it from sight. “Nothing,” I said. “Do you think Edward Rochester ever really loved his first wife?”
“Who is Edward Rochester?” Kennedy asked as she reached for my notebook. I pulled it away.
“Have you not read the book yet? The test is in two days.” And I was hoping she had an answer to my question. Could true love be thwarted by an old lesser love? Or infatuation? Or whatever the hell my feelings for Matt were? I mean, Edward’s feelings for Jane, not mine for Matt. Jane Eyre had nothing to do with Matt and Felix. I was focused.
“That wasn’t even your handwriting,” Kennedy said. “Please tell me you got notes from someone who already took this test and aced it.”
“I don’t know any upperclassmen.”
“And here I thought you’d become besties with Isabella.”
