The Boyfriend Borrower

Chapter Nine.

Chapter Nine

This week has seemed to do nothing but drag on, thankfully it's finally Friday. I'm totally dreading going to biology because yesterday we had that quiz and I'm completely freaking out over it. Part of me thinks that I did a great job, but another part of me thinks I totally bombed it because I was distracted by thoughts of Josh, and surprisingly, thoughts of Sam too. Between the two of them, I can't seem to get a moment alone in my head, which is probably considered some sort of mental illness. I should be institutionalized; if not over thoughts of the Josh and Sam, then definitely after that stupid house warming party at the Preston's that I agreed to go to tomorrow.

In attempt to actually get to biology on time, I quicken by pace, but that doesn't do any good when I feel myself being jerked into a janitors closet. I feel a pair of eager lips cover mine and a muscular body crushing me against the door. Suddenly I feel like I'm kissing a dead fish because it's doing nothing for me. I bring my arms up and push against the familiar form, slapping him across the face.

"Brody, stop being a perv," I order, slithering out of his douchey embrace. "Did you really think that grabbing me and forcing yourself on me was going to work?"

Brody chuckles, pressing his lips to my neck. "A guy can hope."

I continue to fight with him as he presses me against the door. "Brody, I mean it, stop. I'm not in the mood for you."

"You haven't answered any of my calls or responded to any of my texts," he says. "I miss you."

I laugh mockingly. "You're full of shit. Look, I'm going to be late for-" the bell rings, interrupting my sentence. "Leave me alone, Brody," I say calmly, opening the door and walking out of the closet. I get numerous looks from other late students passing by. When I look up, I find Mr. Shearin's judgmental eyes on me as he urges other student's to class.

"You're tardy, Brittany, but I guess it's a step up from completely ditching my class," Mr. Shearin says, holding the door open for me. "Perhaps you should spend less time in janitor closets with boys and more time in class," He adds, loud enough for the whole class to hear.

I can't even muster up a comeback because my mind is all over the place.

"Perhaps you should spend less time being a dick to your students and more time teaching them," Sam interjects, getting a roar of laughter from the students.

Mr. Shearing glares at Sam, knowing he was in the wrong to say something like that to a student in the first place, so he can't exactly yell at Sam for doing the same thing. He begins going over today's objective and eventually people forget about the scene.

I'm absolutely appalled as I slide into my seat next to Sam at the lab table. "You shouldn't have done that," I whisper to Sam.

Sam shrugs. "He shouldn't have said that," Sam mutters, clenching his jaw.

"You could've gotten in trouble."

"Most people would just say thanks."

I smile. "Thanks."

"I know you weren't in the janitor's closet willingly," Sam pauses when I look at him funny. "I was walking behind you and saw Brody pull you in."

I nod along, making sense of the situation. "I'm not messing with him anymore," I tell him. "Or anyone, if you're curious," I add, focusing on the projector in the front of the classroom.