Living With Stranger Boy

Chapter Four

On our way to Home Ec., I realized that I hadn't seen any of my friends since I came. Eh, I'll see a few of them in class.

"Ready for your first class at Madison?" I asked with a smile.
He scoffed, "Who's ever ready for class?"
"Point," I agreed. "Let's go in, then."

I dragged him inside, yes, dragged. "Good morning, Mr Peters. May I introduce your new student, Ryan James."
Mr Peters looked at Ryan, and gave him a smile. He's an attractive looking teacher, probably in his mid 20's. I bet most girls in here chose Home Ec. just to be in his class. I never looked at him in that way, but still, I can't deny that he's attractive.

"Hello, Ryan. I'm Mr Peters. Please stand by to introduce yourself to the class, and you can sit beside Riley after that." Ryan nodded at him, and I walked to my seat, flashing a smile to Seb and Holly, who were in this class with me.

After about two more minutes, the class finally settled in, and Mr Peter began to speak. "Class, we have a new student. Ryan, please introduce yourself."
Ryan looked like he could be better off sleeping, which he probably would. "Sup' guys, I'm Ryan James, about to be 18 in a week," my eyes widened at this, my birthday is in a week! And I'm going to turn 18! He continued, however, "and I live with," he paused and looked at me. Oh, no, no, no, please don't do what I think you're about to do! "Riley here," he smirked up at me. I could feel the entire class's gaze on me. I shot daggers at him from my seat, while he's still smirking at me. In my mind, I already killed him.
I knew all the girls were glaring at me like I've killed their cats, but living with Ryan James would still probably be a bigger reason for them to hate me.

He slowly started to make his way to his seat, which was beside me, and after taking his seat, he casually threw his arm around me.
I shoved his arm off, and whisper-yelled to him, "Why'd you have to say that? All the girls are killing me in their minds. I'm probably even dead by now," I muttered the last part as I pretended to be frightened. But honestly, even though I'm not exactly scared, I might be a little cautious of my surroundings from now on.... Thanks to Ryan, here.
He laughed, "Also, they're still glaring at you," he said with a wink. "Yeah, all thanks to you," I muttered.

"Okay, so today, I'm handing in projects," Ah, so he finally began class! "The person beside you is your partner, no switch, no exchange." The class groaned at that. "Yeah, yeah. Too bad for you guys," Mr Peter waved his hand, I chuckled at that. "A bowl is coming around the room. It's filled with pieces of papers with the name of your assignment. Pick a paper, and your assignment is what's written on the paper," he quickly explained to us. The bowl finally came to Ryan and I, and he let me pick. "Bake a cake for the entire class", is what it said. I show it to Ryan, "Ah, so I see your kitchen will be destroyed soon," he smirked. I couldn't agree more.

"Do you know how to bake a cake?" he asked me. "Does it look like I can? I would really burn the house down."

"Well, aren't you gonna ask me if I can bake a cake?" he raised an eyebrow.
I scoffed playfully, "You don't seem like a person who would know how to toast a piece of bread," I said, looking him up and down. He smirked, "Judging a book by its cover, are we?"
I shrugged, "But I'm still right about you, aren't I?"
He held his hand up, "Eh, gotta give that to you," he said, tilting his head. Now it was my turn to smirk.

***

"Riley?" he asked me in the middle of a lesson in History. I hummed in question.
"I'm really craving a grilled cheese right now." I turned my head to look at him weirdly, "What do you expect me to do in the middle of a class?" I thought about it for a second, but shook my head to shove the thoughts out, what the hell? "Goddammit, Ryan. Now I'm craving for a grilled cheese! You better grill me a cheese when we get home," I glared. He looked at me weirdly, "What the hell is 'grill me a cheese'?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
"I don't know, but I better have my cheese grilled at home," I warned again. This time, instead of giving me a weird look, he looked me at amusingly. "You're-" I interrupted, "Weird? Yes, I know. I wear bunny onesie at home and I say 'grill me a  cheese' like I own it." I smiled toothily as he shook his head with amusement, a ghost smile on his lips.

"I'm speecial," I dragged the 'spe' part, as I said it in a baby voice. He looked at me and burst into laughter, earning a glare from Ms Patterson. He held his hand up to show her, and she continued with the lesson. I knew she could see us talking, but however, didn't say anything. Which I was glad for because history is, honestly, boring. And I enjoyed talking to Ryan.

"Do you always come up with your own phases?" he asked, laughing. Okay, so I might have threatened him by saying, "Or else, I will steal your unicorn, and sell it to aliens." I mean, I wouldn't actually do that. I would most likely keep the unicorn to myself. But hey, I needed to sound intimidating at that moment.

I looked at him sheepishly, and stretched out a "Maybee."
"That's okay. I like them," he said. I grinned proudly. Obviously, I mean, who wouldn't like my phrases?

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked out of topic, which caught me off guard. I blinked at him, once, twice. Then realized what he had asked. "Sorry, I got lost," We both chuckled. "And no, I don't." I answered truthfully. Would I like to have a boyfriend? Yes. But do I have a boyfriend? Uh, no.

He groaned quietly so Ms Patterson couldn't hear him, "Please don't tell me you're one of those girls who secretly has this major crush on one of the jocks."
I scrunched my face at him, "I'm pretty sure I'm not one of those girls," I confirmed.
I don't have anything against those girls who do, but I'm just not one of them. And in all honesty, I dont understand them. I mean, they know who they're falling for -a player, who could care less about girls' feelings- yet they fall for them anyways.

But, no, I'm not being stereotypical, either. I know, not all jocks are players. I even have friends who are jocks, but they're the sweetest guys I've met.

"Are you stereotypical?" I asked Ryan. He looked at me with those deep, dark brown eyes, "No, but at times, I can't help but think they're true."
I got confused. "What are?"
"Stereotypes," he answered.

I couldn't help but agree with him.