“Don’t forget you’re on cleanup duty during Culinary Club tomorrow. And today,” Church stands up from his seat, amber eyes dark and serious, “we have a Student Council meeting.”
“Student Council?!” Spencer groans, sliding his hand down his face. “After everything that just happened?” Church turns to look at him, not unsympathetically.
“We’re getting an early announcement from the administration about the … deceased student.” A quiet settles around our table. Ross, who’s been sitting silently at the end and taking notes on his phone, looks up, brown eyes darkening with sympathy. “They want us to plan a memorial for Friday.”
“Shit.” Spencer sits back down heavily, and we all take a moment.
That could’ve been his memorial; we all know it.
The bell rings and students stand up from their seats, leaving their trays behind. Blows my mind every time. Makes me think of Mom … I wonder how she’s doing anyway?
“Can I walk you to class?” Spencer asks, and I nod, standing up. When he reaches down and takes my hand, I shiver all over. “Oh come on, Chuck, I don’t bite,” he whispers, leaning in close. “You know, unless you want me to.”
“Stop it,” I whisper back as I notice people turning to stare. Nobody seems particularly surprised, but our intimacy is drawing plenty of attention. It hasn’t escaped the notice of the student body that the once-bullied scrawny dickhead son of the headmaster has made a bunch of new friends for seemingly no reason at all.
“Why? You can’t run from me forever. We need to talk about what happened.” He looks down at me, his eyes the color of a Caribbean sea, his hair a shimmering silver-gray that makes my heart thump. And that woody, earthy scent of his? It makes my toes curl in my shiny academy loafers. “Maybe not today with the Student Council meeting, but tomorrow, before or after Culinary Club.”
“Can’t we just text about it tonight?” I whisper back, my cheeks coloring with a warm flush. I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment, excitement or both. I’m just so goddamn glad to have Spencer back that I don’t really care which. He reaches out and straightens my tie for me, smoothing out some of the wrinkles. Can’t do much about the stain on the front of it though, now can he? I’m such a mess. I swear I wasn’t like this before.
“No texting. In person, Micropenis Chuck.” Spencer ruffles my hair as he leaves me at the door to Mr. Murphy’s English class, sauntering off down the hall with his firm, taut ass taking up all my attention. Takes me, like, ten blinks to clear the stars away.
“Oh, honey,” Ross begins, as the others disperse to their classes for the day. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I haven’t got anything; we used a condom,” I blurt, and Ross stares at me like I’ve grown horns. This time, when I turn pink, it’s most definitely from embarrassment.
“Girl, you’re in love with that boy.”
“I am not,” I growl as Ross turns and leads the way into the classroom, pausing to check out Mr. Murphy’s ass. Now that I’ve been with Spencer, I find that I’m not at all interested in it, despite its muscular perfection. Fancy that? “And stop calling me girl; people might get the wrong idea.”
“Hey, girl,” Ross calls, giving one of his other friends a little hug. The guy’s huge, too, with a hell of a lot of facial hair. Ross glances back at me as he leads the way down the row of desks to our preferred spots. “Shut your face. You’re fine. Nobody expects it, so they don’t see it. I said it before.” He takes his seat, and I grab mine, watching him warily. The guy does everything with flair. I’d say he was total gay cliché, but I think it’s just part of his natural personality.
“You’re not mad that Spencer and I …” Ross glances back at me with a brow raised. “Aren’t you in love with him?”
He shrugs his shoulders as the last boy scrambles into class, and Mr. Murphy turns around to survey his students. It hasn’t escaped my attention that I confronted him about Jenica on the last day of school before spring break. He basically ran away from me and slammed a door in my face.
Our eyes meet from across the room, but Mr. Murphy just forces one of his stupid smiles on me, and I frown as he gets into today’s lesson.
“Spencer was just that sort of elusive bad boy type that I knew I could never have. He was safe to lust after because he could never happen.” Ross looks me over and sighs, shaking his head. “Now, with you … it could definitely happen.”
“What could happen?” I whisper, clutching the sides of my desk, my heart thumping wildly away in my chest. Ross looks at me with this sly, cryptic sort of expression that turns into a knowing smirk.
