My cell phone was dead from my forgetting to charge it the night before, and I felt cut off from the outside world as I sat miserably in class. I was beginning to perspire. My day had been so awful that I was sweating without actual physical exertion! I was on the verge of tears. It was Leona’s turn with the SOS phone, and she had already informed me in between classes that we’d gotten a new assignment last period.
I felt overwhelmed. And since Aiden sat with us at lunch, the Kittens and I wouldn’t be able to discuss the assignment there. We’d have to wait until after practice. Not to mention, I was wondering where in the stratosphere Aiden was. I hoped Kira would pass along my tale of lunch imprisonment to him. He had to be looking for me. Right?
I signed the journal on Mr. Powell’s desk as I entered detention. I frowned as he smiled at me. I didn’t mind letting him see me pout. I’d been in his class last year too.
“Sorry, Ms. Crimson,” he said, wagging his finger at me. “Rules are rules. Even for the head cheerleader.”
That was sort of nice of him to apologize. I nodded. Feeling dull and wilted, I crossed to my table and flopped in my chair. It figured I’d only finished half of my apples and cinnamon oatmeal this morning. I was starving. There was a shuffle from the hallway.
I looked toward the door as Christian entered, grinning madly as he swiped his hair behind his ear. He avoided my eyes, but I could tell he wasn’t too broken up about sitting in detention with me. Not with that pleased expression on his face.
Christian signed in and then turned to me, pretending to be surprised. “Tessa,” he said, clutching his chest. “I had no idea you were a troublemaker.”
I couldn’t help but smile. His theatrics were sort of cute. “Sorry, Christian. But there is no talking in detention.” I looked down at my purple notebook. Hm. Maybe I’d write a note to Aiden. I was pretty sure that was how things were done before text messaging. I opened to a fresh page.
“Can … I sit with you?” Christian asked.
I glanced up. He was trying to sound casual, but he probably didn’t realize he was biting his bottom lip. I wondered if I made him nervous. He certainly made me feel unsettled.
“Just sit down somewhere, Mr. Ferril,” Mr. Powell announced from the front, sounding annoyed. I giggled.
Despite this being detention, it actually wasn’t very strict, especially in this classroom. Mr. Powell had a tendency to read the newspaper instead of enforcing the law. I liked that about him.
Christian was still standing at the end of the table, so I nodded toward Kira’s chair, and he smiled as he sat down. Wow. His cologne smelled rather good, very natural and earthy.
“So,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “How long do we have to stay in here?”
“Until ten minutes before lunch is over.” I looked sideways at him, noticing that his hair had fallen to cover his eyes. I didn’t really like that. It seemed sneaky.
“Good,” he said, leaning back and turning to me. “Because I’m ravenous. I thought I had to miss the entire lunch.”
“I don’t think that’s legal,” I pointed out.
“Right.”
We sat for a minute, silent, but not uncomfortably so. Somehow, being alone with him was easier than being near him with an audience. Go figure. Mr. Powell turned the page of his newspaper loudly and hunched over to read.
Christian leaned toward me. “Would you like to know anything about me?” I looked at him, and he smiled that perfect grin. I couldn’t really think of anything, but … I didn’t want to seem unfriendly.
“Sure. Did you like being a Duck?” I adjusted myself in the chair, folding my hands onto my lap.
“Yep. My turn.”
Wait. I didn’t know this was a give-and-take.
He cleared his throat. “Why are you so proper? Like with the swearing and everything?”
I blinked. It had been a while since I’d needed to explain my perkiness. “It’s not that I’m proper, Christian. This is just how I am. I’m perky. I’m polite. There’s no need to be all gloom and doom. Someone has to make people feel good.”
Christian pressed his lips together, looking impressed, and nodded. “You definitely are not gloom and doom.”
That was nice of him to say. And truth be told, I wasn’t always like this. There was a time when I was just like everyone else. But my parents liked me like this. In fact, everyone did, so it just stuck. It felt natural. I liked making people happy.
“Your turn to ask,” he said, folding his hands behind his neck and leaning back in the chair. I glanced at the clock. We still had twenty minutes together.
“When did your parents get divorced?” I asked softly.
His expression changed. He rubbed roughly at his jaw and then straightened his back. “Officially?”
I nodded. I hoped the question wasn’t too painful.
“Last month.”
“And that’s why you’re here?”
He looked me over. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Tessa. You know, at least half of all marriages end in divorce.” He narrowed his heavily lashed brown eyes. “And like 99 percent of high school romances don’t last.”
My face twitched. Was he trying to say that Aiden and I wouldn’t last? “You really don’t know me all that well, Christian.” And he certainly didn’t know that I was fully aware of the breakup statistics. I did it for a living, for Pete’s sake.
“True,” he said, backing off. He laid his hands on the table in front of him. “And how about you? What’s your family like? Do you live in a gingerbread house somewhere?”
“I, in fact, live in a ranch-style home in Murray Hills. No candy roofs or evil witches.” Well, except for Aiden’s mother.
“And I’m guessing your parents are living happily ever after?”
I dropped my eyes. Even though my parents were happy, it still didn’t mean there weren’t painful memories. “My parents got back together after some time apart.”
Christian made a noise, but I didn’t look up at him. I was fairly done with this conversation. I began to pick at the bottom of my shirt.
“You look cute when you’re sad.”
My eyes snapped up to his.
“Ask me another question.” He tilted his head.
But I wasn’t into games like this. I didn’t flirt with strangers. And even though I was participating reluctantly, I still felt like it was illegal.