Betting on You

7

s e v e n

"Sorry I'm late." I rushed in a breath, taking the seat adjacent to Jared at a library table.

I heaved my books onto the desk surface in a stack as I plopped down, flushed and breathless from rushing here.

Jared's eyes were amused as he watched me run a hand through my hair to smooth it down, "No worries. I was thinking I took you away from something more important."

Luke? More important? Yeah right. Yet, I couldn't help but shiver at the feeling of Luke's hands against my stomach, and I cleared my throat, shaking my head and giving him a breathly smile, "No. Of course not."

Yet Jared's eyes dropped to my neck before back to my eyes, and he cleared his throat too for a short moment, "Uh.. You sure about that?"

I frowned at his question, yet the tingling sensation of the spot on my neck where his eyes had dropped to had suddenly made me go tense. There was no need for me to even check; A hickey lay present there.

Itching to cover it up but not wanting to draw my attention to the obvious bruise, I faked a smile, shaking my head as if I didn't understand where his question could be coming from.

With another fleeting glance towards my neck, Jared looked down to his notes and cleared his throat, getting started, "So uh, none of this shit makes sense and I desperately need to pass."

Opening my books after a moment, I started talking about the schools of anthropological thought, trying to so desperately ignore the underlying tension.

Luke is so going to pay for this.

Thankfully, as time seemed to pass, so did the initial awkward tension, and it was about a couple minutes into our studying when I faked an obvious shiver. Pretending to be cold, I went to my locker and grabbed a hoodie and it did the job of hiding the dark hickey, taking it, hopefully, out of Jared's mind. Unfortunately, the less tense it got, the faster time seemed to pass, and I was amazed at how much Jared actually knew about the content. I just assumed he was the dumb-jock type because he projected that image to the rest of highschool, but I was proven wrong. He was admirably intellectual yet his trouble came when he was relating the content to something more tangible so he could better grasp the concept. That could be an easy fix though, with a few more studying sessions.

Sooner than I would've liked, the bell ending third rung and we were packing our things. I had english now, and I think Jared had Chemistry, so when we stood from the desk and packed our books, I couldn't help but blush as he began walking me to my next class.

"You really don't have to. My class is the furthest away from yours."

Yet he shrugged, "No worries. It's the least I can do for you being such a good teacher."

"You're not a bad student, so I think that helps." I smiled, readjusting my books in my arms.

After that we walked in a comfortable silence, people in the hall slightly parting for him. All the soccer players had that elite status, and I felt myself blush even more to be apart of that with him.

But it didn't last forever.

We made it to my english class and we parted ways, yet my heart fluttered when he smiled at me. My brewing crush towards this soccer player only seemed to be growing the more that I was around him, and I could feel my cheeks blushing redder at the thought. It had been so long since I had last had a crush; Everytime I became rometly close to developing one, or even a potential boyfriend, Luke always managed to worm his way into the situation and ruin it for me.

All at once, palms pressed themselves against my back and I was abruptly shoved forwards, stumbling into the classroom yet thankfully catching my footing before I had the chance to fall.

I gasped as I caught my balance, whipping around as soon as I was standing up straight and glaring harshly at the perpetrator.

Of course.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped at Luke, my eyes no doubt blazing.

Yet all he did in return was saunter through the threshold, an amused smirk twitching at his lips, "Don't block the doorway."

"I could've busted my face on the floor, asshole." I spat at him as he pushed past me, making his way towards a desk. The rest of the students that had made it into the classroom early were amused by the two of us, so as per usual, no one bothered to step in to my defense.

"Does it look like I give a f-" the bell signalling the beginning of class rung and the teacher, as well as a few rushing students, hurried into the classroom, making their ways to their seats.

Keeping my glare on Luke, I made my way to my seat a few rows over from his, anger still bubbling in my blood.

I hate him. I hate him so much.

Piling my books onto my desk, I flinched as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and glancing up to see the teacher still getting himself organized, I retrieved my phone to see who messaged me.

My anger only seemed to burn slightly more as the contact name Joker flashed across the screen. And then once more, alerting me that Luke had sent me not one but two messages.

Sighing to myself, I opened them.

Joker
nice hoodie, but idr u hving tht on earlier ;-)

Joker
hiding smthing?

I could feel Luke's eyes on me as he watched me read his messages, and I refrained from turning around and rolling my eyes at him. He was so infuriating, yet I couldn't get the feeling of his lips out of my mind, which made him even more so infuriating. Yet, with my annoyance came the undeniable blush that colored my cheeks, which seemed to be happening a whole lot today, and I placed my phone face down on the desk, choosing to ignore him.

I feel like that's the best course of action — to ignore him, and maybe he didn't exist.

Yet, my phone buzzed again against my desk and I was quick to shut the ringer off just as the class quieted down. Mr. Baxter, the head of the english department and therefore the toughest critic on the roster, was a stickler for kids not paying attention in his class. He had explained it once at the beginning of the yeae, as he does every year, yet I couldn't recall what the dire reason was. He flew off the handle if he was disrespected, and there was no way I wanted to get on his bad side this early in the year.

"Alright everyone," Mr Baxter began, closing the classroom door and shutting off the lights, "We're studying multi-texts today, so draw your attention to the projection."

He walked over to his desk and turned the projector on, taking a seat as he began to walk us through different chosen media's of a particular author. These multi-text examples were supposed to set the tone for our next project, so I opened my notebook and began taking notes.

And trying my best to ignore the set of eyes that remained pinned to the back of my head.

___