Chapter 3: Future Boyfriend Or Future Enemy?

            There was only one reason guys were scared of me, but that reason alone was enough to make Marshall’s friends desert him and run for their lives when I gave them the cue to get out. “Wait! Guys! Don’t go! You can’t leave me alone here!” His eyes shifted over to me when the blue door slammed behind them, and swallowed the obvious lump inside this throat. “So now... now what? What do you want from me?”

            “It’s quite simple.” I took a step toward him. “I came looking for you because I heard you were good. The best.”

            “The best what?” He gave me a dumbfounded look before his cheeks suddenly turned a little rosy and he smirked – almost shyly. “Re- really? Girls talk about that kind of thing behind my back? Who told you? Was it Melanie? Ashley? Jillian?”

            “It was Todd,” I said. “Todd told me.”

            His jaw dropped and he widened his eyes at me with a look of utter disbelief. “But... that’s a guy...”

            “Yeah, is it surprising?”

            “Well I... But I...” His face drained of color. “Unless I was so drunk last weekend that I... Wait. That’s not possible. It can’t be!” Shaking his head so that water droplets shook out of his blonde hair, he brought his eyes back to meet mine. “What are we even talking about in the first place?”

            I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, quickly reminding myself I was trying to fall in love with this idiot and not kill him. “Basically,” I explained, “and I’m going to get straight to the point. I want you to make me fall in love with you.”

            “Wait, what?!”

            “You have one month.”

            “Hold on. Back up.”

            “During this time, you’re allowed to–”

            “Wait! Stop! I said stop!” I paused, not exactly pleased that I was being interrupted, but generous enough to let this one time slide. “Repeat what you said earlier – right after the sentence about getting to the point.”

            “I want you to make me fall in love with you.”

            “You mean, you want me to fall in love with you.”

            “Are you deaf?” I tapped my heel impatiently. “I said I want you to make me fall in love with you. It would be simple for someone like you, I’m sure. Since you do it on a daily basis.”

            Marshall was stumped by my words and for a moment, stood quietly thinking it over before he raised one arm in the air. “Question.”

            I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Do not strangle him. Do not strangle him. Do not strangle him. “Yes,” I said. “Marshall.”

            “Well first of all, you sound crazy, but for conversational purposes, you’re saying you want to fall in love with me even when you obviously don’t? But why?”

            I sighed. It was a fair enough question and since I needed his help, I presume it would be reasonable not to hide anything from him. “It’s complicated,” I began, but before I could fully explain my situation, I heard the voices from outside the shower room penetrating through the walls.

            “Coach, she’s in there,” someone shouted. “In the shower room.”

            “Crap.” I gritted my teeth. I knew a tight pinch when I felt one and being caught by Coach Buckerfield was probably one of the worst. My eyes quickly flickered up to meet Marshall’s. “I can’t get caught,” I told him. “Hide me.”

            His jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? How?! What do you expect me to do?!”

            “I don’t care. Just make something up.”

            Hesitation showed in his eyes before he quickly pointed to the left corner of the room. “Hide there,” he said. “The last stall.”

            I booked it, and not even a second after I settled in the hiding place Marshall arranged for me, I heard the loud slam of a door being swung opened with incredible force. “Pittsburgh!”

            “Coach!”

            “Did a girl come in here?!”

            I held my breath and prayed that Marshall could think up a half decent excuse.

            “Yeah, she did!” He suddenly screamed. “She’s right there hiding in the last stall. I have no idea who she is, but she was trying to make me to do weird things to her!”

            At that moment, I wasn’t sure what I felt inside, but before I could really get the thoughts in my head organized, Coach Buckerfield’s shoes appeared in front of me. “If it isn’t the infamous Camila Jones? How did I guess it could only be you.”

            I slowly stood up, aware that the shower room was now infiltrated with male onlookers. Pushing off the fact that I was highly outnumbered, I lifted my chin up with dignity. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

            Buckerfield laughed. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in the middle of a room full of naked guys.”

            I crossed my arms in front me. “So?”

            The walk of shame down to the principal’s office wasn’t really shameful as it was annoying, but once I managed to make it pass the main school foyer and into the administration building, the familiar feeling of getting in trouble came back to me.

            There was one really good thing about having Diana Hoskins as my principal, and at the same time, there was one really horrible thing. The good thing was that I got away with everything because at 39, still single and unwed – and most likely desperate – she was trying to seduce my dad. The bad thing was... well, she was trying to seduce my dad.

            I arched an eyebrow in disgust as she rang him up at work, smiling overly happy as she pushed back a curl that had fallen in between her hazel eyes, and manually pulling down her V-neck blouse to reveal more of her breasts. “Hello? Anthony?” She chirped. “This is Diana Hoskins, Camila’s principal. Yes! Yes! I’m doing fabulous, how are you?”

            I inwardly groaned as she giggled blatantly at him – again, popping her breasts out so that I could make out the lining of her bra. “Ms. Hoskins, stop touching them!” I shouted. “My dad can’t see your tits through the phone!”

            Immediately she turned to me, her mouth agape and her eyes edging out of their sockets before she threw me a glare and put a finger over her lips. “Oh lord,” she giggled. “Really?! That must have been embarrassing! So what happened after?”

            After staying still for another 5 minutes, and listening to their idiotic conversation about my dad’s bathroom mishap at work, I stood up. “I’m leaving.”

            Diana just turns her black leather chair around so that she doesn’t see me and continues to giggle into the phone. I swear to god she looks forward to my visits just so she could use it as an excuse to talk to my dad. No matter what I did – big or small – she’s never given me a single detention, and suspension was just utterly unheard of.

            Worse, my dad invites her over for dinner occasionally to thank her for ‘guiding’ me in the right direction. Shameless wretch.

            Outside, the school hallways were emptied of students and since it was already halfway through first period, I decided to skip it and wait for second block before attending class.

            Unsurprisingly, by the time second period rolled around, the school had already heard about my misdeed of the day and Psychology was filled with catty gossip about me before I even entered the classroom, and if anything, only got worse after I made an appearance. “Oh my god, it’s her!”

            “I can’t believe she’s like, not suspended – especially after what she did to Marshall.”

            “Didn’t you hear she’s sleeping with one of the teachers in school? Obviously, that’s why she never gets in trouble!”

            “Really? Oh my god, who? I bet you it’s Mr. Tredgold!”

            “Ew! The math teacher? He’s like eighty!”

            I shut out all the voices – all the loud whispers and the girlish giggles that followed – before taking my assigned seat at the back corner of the room. Rumours were such a typical thing to me that ignoring people was already second nature – so much that I hardly noticed the time until Mrs. Baker cleared her throat and started class.

            At the end of the lecture, Mrs. Baker announced the group project that was supposed to be in place instead of our final exam in about a month and a half’s time. She handed out the criteria and told us the details of the project before Brooklynn raised her hand. “Do we get to pick our own partners?”

            Her remark sent every girl on a frenzy, spinning their heads around to eye the guy sitting right next to me with feverish hunger. “Tyler! Be my partner!”

            “No! Be mine!”

            “No!! Tyler, remember that one time–”

            Brooklynn – who has this bizarre idea that everything belongs to her – cleared her throat. “Ladies,” she hissed sweetly through clenched teeth. “If it comes to Tyler, don’t you think I have first dibs? Right Tyler?”

            Tyler Lavenchy – who was apparently the first prince of Ridgedale High looked up from his worksheets – his long, dark eyelashes like feathers from a fallen angel. “What?”

            Brooklynn smiled at him and somehow reminded me of Ms. Hoskins. “I said...”

            As soon as she opened her mouth, Tyler stopped listening and went back to staring at his worksheets.

            Mrs. Baker rolled her eyes at Brooklynn in the most unprofessional way I’ve ever seen a teacher. “Actually Brooklynn,” she said with her small yet high-pitched voice, “your partner will be the person sitting right next to you and since this class is even numbered, everything should work out fine.” And then, as if she sincerely wanted to piss Brooklynn off, she added, “Which means, Mr. Handsome Quarterback’s partner will naturally be Camila.”

            All the girls in class groaned before shooting me death glares.

            I yawned.

            When the bell rang, Mrs. Baker tried with no avail to keep the students from leaving the room. “Remember kids, there will be no time given in class to work on the project since you have over a month to complete it,” she shouted with her squeaky voice that wasn’t made to shout. “I expect you guys to finish it up all on your own!”

            “About the project.” Tyler stood up, his tall, muscular body towering over the desk as he gathered his notes into his binder. “I could drop by this weekend to work on it.” He paused, his gaze of infinite green still fixated on his binder. “Do you... Do you still live in the same place you used to?”

            I swallowed the scratchy lump in my throat before gathering my books into my arms. “Don’t bother. I’ll do a good job on the project and put your name right beside mine. You don’t need to come over.”

            He grabbed my wrist just as I started leaving. “Just wait Mila.”

            “Let go,” I said. “And don’t call me that. There’re only two people in this world that call me by that name. The first person is my dad, and the second? He’s already dead to me.”

            And with that, I knew he’d let go.