𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟺𝚝𝚑, 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢
Parker's POV

By the time Monday morning comes around, I am still reeling after my day with Miles yesterday.

That one hour that I spent with him left me shaken and confused.

Confused, because of the way my heart palpitated the first time he rolled out from under the car, his skin slicked with sweat and grease. Confused from his flirting prompts, the way he knew my car better than I ever could, and how his mom hugged me like a second son and assumed I was his boyfriend.

I can't even think about that conversation without a blush pulling at my cheeks. The weirdest thing is I couldn't point out one prominent emotion currently swirling inside me. I'm simply a mess of blissfulhappyangry with a side of sadfearfullostcharmed.

Thinking about my inner turmoil makes me sick to my stomach. I hate that Miles did this to me—especially with no good reason. There's no way to fix this issue with him except to snip it at the bud.

I've got to start avoiding Miles. Really, I should've never interacted with him in the first place. No part of him fits inside my inner circle, my comfortable world.

Unfortunately, Miles isn't my only problem this morning. The other problem comes in a blonde-hair-blue-eyed package.

I didn't think Hannah would read into that kiss we shared the other night so much, but here she is, following me around ever since I first stepped foot into the school. She even had the nerve to find me after the day's first class.

"... I'm getting really nervous about the math midterms next week. I don't feel prepared at all," Hannah keeps talking as she walks next to me.

I shrug and glance at her as we turn down the hallway that leads to my history class. She's throwing dark, discreet looks at every girl that watches us walk past.

"I'm sure that you will be fine. Just study some more this week," I reply dryly and look away from her swinging hair. I hate to come off as a jerk, except my bullshit-radar is going off. She's probably looking for a 'study buddy'.

"Mm, I dunno, I have a hard time studying math by myself..."

Yep, there it is. I was waiting for her to say that.

I stop outside Greyson's classroom door and turn to give her a look that I hope isn't too revealing of my feelings toward her.

The nonexistent feelings, that is.

"Huh. Well, the teachers always go on and on about the great study groups around here. I'm sure there's a group that would love for you to join."

Hannah quirks her perfectly penciled eyebrows at me. "Or, you could help me out...? Ali always says you're amazing in your guys' precalc class."

I hesitate and run my thumb over the cover of my notebook. Hannah offers me a sweet half smile. It's a far-crying difference from Miles playful smile—shit. Even when I'm near the hottest girl in my grade, my thoughts stray to that kid.

I probably need a good night of 'studying' to clear my head. Right as I open my mouth to give her an answer, Greyson speaks from behind my shoulder.

"Parker, Hannah, there's one minute until the bell rings. You better run to class, miss. You don't want to be late," Greyson scolds and crosses his arms as he comes out to stand next to me in the hall.

I chew on my cheek and look away as I get rattled right off my train of thought. For Christ's sake, I was one second away from agreeing to a date.

Hannah nods, her face falling.

"Thanks, Mr Miller. I'll talk to you later, Parker. I will be waiting for an answer," her voice changes from obeying student to flirtatious teenage girl in a matter of milliseconds. I mumble a goodbye and turn to walk into the classroom, ignoring Greyson's curious speculation of me.

As I cross through the door, I notice where Rose is sitting, who is also watching me curiously. She has the perfect line of view to watch that exchange. Her eyebrows raise as we make eye contact, obviously wondering, What was that?

I shake my chin slightly in response and mouth the words, Do not mention it.

She grins and shrugs passively before flipping her auburn hair behind her shoulder, looking back down at her notebook as she continues to scribble down words.

I feel like the oxygen has been zapped from my body. I have to take deep breaths as I walk over to my seat.

Miles is already deep in conversation, sitting on top of his desk as he chats with some guy across the aisle. He seems to be doing great today. Hell, he seems to be thriving in general now that he's made a few more friends. Not that I care.

He looks over as I walk up and gives me a small, charming smile to acknowledge my presence. I tilt my head up in response as I slip between him and the other boy, sinking into my chair. All I can do to keep myself focused is think about exactly how I should go about ignoring Miles. Especially since he thinks we're buddies now.

Despite the reminder, a small bug of uncertainty bites at my heart.

The hourly bell rings shrilly, bringing my circling thoughts to a halt. Greyson shuts the classroom door and claps his hands together excitedly as he walks to the front of the room. "Good morning, class! Today, I—... Holt, Anderson, Davis, Jones! Can you all please take your seats and face me? Thank you." Greyson waits patiently as all of the boys oblige. Miles' minty cologne washes over me as he flunks down in his chair and stretches back, shoulders rippling under his shirt. I try not to inhale too deeply.

"Anyway! Instead of a midterm test next week, I'm assigning a small group project." Greyson starts to explain but gets cut off by a few kids groaning. He meets their eyes and points his laser pointer at the opinionated kids.

"Hey now, don't give me that reaction yet. This will be easier than you think. For this project, I decided it would be best if I pick the partners for all of you. Hold the excitement until the end of the class, please." Greyson smirks and grabs a big stack of papers off of his desk. He licks his thumb and paws through the pile as he continues. "Usually, I'd let you choose your own partners, but that ordeal went to hell last month when the majority of you couldn't get any shit done."

Some kids giggle and elbow each other at that sentence. Greyson has a reputation of being the cool teacher for his lack of filter, kind of like his son.

He begins walking to the first person in every row and counts out papers before passing them out, explaining as he goes. "I expect a full 3-page MLA research report assigned to each partnership, including a small slideshow presentation to give to the rest of your peers. The rest of the expectations are written down on the instructions being passed out. This is due in two weeks, the day of homecoming. Alright?"

Greyson looks around the room, a look of expectation on his face. A few kids nod, others mumble, yes sir. I nod as Greyson's gaze lands on me.

"Fantastic! Let's switch it up this time. This row," Greyson motions, "your partner is whoever is sitting directly behind you. Then the next row gets whoever is behind them, yadda yadda."

Your partner is whoever is sitting directly behind you.

God, I start to think, if you're listening, please smite me right now. This was not in my plan.

Miles twists around in his seat, grinning like a fool as he rests his elbow on my desk. That's all it takes for my blood to run hot and fast. So fast, I feel my cheeks light up like a stove top. Here we go.

"Yo, between you and I, we'll knock this out of the park! This project will be a breeze, man!" Miles exclaims happily. His whole face lights up when he smiles like this, a joyous light in his deep brown eyes.

I seriously need to stop staring at him. It's getting out of hand.

"Hell yeah, just Google the keywords and we're in the clear for an A+," I reply stupidly, my brain spinning like an empty paper cup caught in the wind. That's exactly how my head feels currently: empty. I can feel my brain turning on autopilot, which is not a good thing.

Thankfully, Miles laughs like I'm the funniest person on this side of the Pacific Ocean. I can't help but smile at the sound of it. It sounds so different from the prissy girls who try to impress me or the jock boys who laugh at inappropriate jokes to keep their spots on the totem pole. Instead, Miles is genuinely laughing at my terrible joke. It's refreshing.

Greyson comes walking down the aisle, double checking no one has questions. His smile falters as he looks between Miles and I.

"Oh man, if I knew that I accidentally paired the two troubles together, I would've rethought my partnering tactic," Greyson taunts and motions between us.

Please, it's not too late! I think to myself.

Instead, I laugh dryly. "C'mon now, trouble? It's not me that you have to be worried about."

Miles scoffs and gives me a look from the side of his eye that lacks any real venom. "Don't listen to this fool. But, hey, I gotta question. What would you do if we accidentally got off topic, and instead wrote a fantastic research paper about the history of The Great British Baking Show?"

Greyson tips his head back and laughs at Miles stupid question. "Look kid, as much as I would seriously love reading that, this isn't the time for Brits. This is an American history class. Parker, can you please make sure that you guys stay on topic?"

I feel my mouth twitch as I stuff down a smile, giving my uncle a thumbs up. "You got it."

After Greyson walks away, Miles faces me again, flipping open the paper packet with a scowl as he reads the event we're assigned.

"The Haymarket Riot? What the hell?" Miles looks up at me, his face twisted in confusion. "Did we even learn about this?"

I look down at my paper and flip it open, scanning the letters so I don't have to make eye contact with him. "Yeah, back at the beginning of the year. Greyson brushed over the event, but I guess we get to go deeper into it."

"Go deeper? I like the sound of that." Miles winks and grins, giving me the same look that he did yesterday, eagerly awaiting my reaction.

I only chuckle in response, a little shocked at how fast he can give words a double meaning. I shake my head dismissively even as my heart races. The way that his tone drops gives me goosebumps. My head goes empty again, paving the way for panic to ensue.

So, in the heat of the moment, my smart ass blurts, "I'm not gay, you know."

Oh, god.

Miles raises an eyebrow, but the look he gives me isn't judgemental, just thoughtful. "I never said that you were."

God, I am begging at this point, put me in cardiac arrest!

"Good, we're on the same page. Now, focus." I snap my fingers and point at the paper, desperate to change the topic as fast as possible. My fingertips are numb. "How do we want to split up the assignment? Can you handle stitching together a PowerPoint, preferably not about British baking shows?"

Miles chuckles, awkwardly scratching behind his neck. He is the one who can't make eye contact now.

"I can, but there's a problem..." he chews on his tongue and surveys me again. "I don't have a computer. Or WiFi at home, at the moment."

Oh. I feel my eyebrow quirk before I can stop the action, and my stomach squeezes. I should have known, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. The kid dresses and acts like everyone else, and I saw his house. Sure, it wasn't some Beverly Hills mansion, but it seemed nice enough. How could I know that his family can't afford luxuries like that?

"Well, um, don't worry about it then," I say quickly to make up for the second of awkward silence. "I'll handle... whatever I need to handle. Don't even worry about it."

"I am not letting you take the whole damn workload. I know that you don't totally know me, but that's not how I work. This is a partner project. You can't get rid of me that easily," Miles responds lightly, reaching over my packet to grab the mechanical pencil off of my desk.

I scowl at the move. "Sure, go ahead. You can use my pencil, I guess?"

"Don't have a choice. We're partners, that's the second closest thing to family, so now we share shit. What are you doing after school today?" Miles asks, looking down to underline things in his packet.

"Whoa, we're moving so fast. I don't do dates this early on," I get the guts to tease him in response, to make him squirm this time. Leaning back in my seat, I watch him write and wait for him to shuffle in his chair.

Miles doesn't. Instead, he smiles amusingly and glances up from under his eyelashes. "I thought you weren't gay?"

I really set myself up for that one.

"Shut your damn mouth, and stop smirking at me, you idiot. I have football practice tonight but I don't have anything going on after school tomorrow. We get that night off. Why?"

Miles shifts up closer in his seat and hands my pencil back over. "'Cause, we have a project to work on. You've got to own a laptop with that car that you drive. Are you able to meet up with me somewhere? What about that coffee shop that's by McDonalds' downtown?"

"Sure," I respond as I stuff the pencil in my notebook before shoving it off to the side of my desk. "That works. I can meet you there right after we get out of school tomorrow."

Miles brightens up and smiles as he shuts his packet. "A'ight, sweet! Do you have a Snapchat or some way I can message you in case plans change and I gotta run?"

Nodding, I slip my phone out of my pocket and unlock it. I can't believe that I am handing over my phone like this, but oddly enough, I feel compelled to trust him. It probably isn't good for me to warm up to him so fast simply because he's kind. That was my issue with him in the first place.

Miles takes out his own phone as he takes mine.

I watch as he opens up Snapchat, finds the barcode on my account, and scans it with his personal phone. It takes a moment, but my username pops up on Miles screen. Miles nods as he adds me as a friend.

I take my phone back, and the nerves light up in my hand as our fingers brush. His hands are so warm—a far crying difference from my chilly fingers. It's likely from the lack of oxygen from breathing so shallowly around his presence.

"Cool, that seals the deal! I'll snap you later tomorrow when I'm leaving the school," Miles says and shakes his phone for emphasis.

I smile and lean back in my seat as I set my phone down. "Okay, sounds good."

Right as we finish our conversation, Greyson claps his hands again for everyone's attention as he reaches the front of the class. Since everyone has their partner straightened out, he turns on the projector to start teaching for the hour

No matter how hard I try to concentrate, I stay distracted throughout the rest of the day.