Hostile(14)

What the hell is happening? “Well, I should go. It was good seeing you, Ms. Holler.”

She waves at him, and the fucker winks at me before he makes his exit, and I’m left wondering what else I don’t know about him. Which really irritates me.

She’s still smiling as she sits down at her desk. “I’ve missed him.”

“Grayson Lancaster?” My tone is full of disbelief because I have no idea how this cool-as-shit art teacher could have any connection to Mr. Golden-Boy Jock.

“Yes.” She looks at me in confusion.

“You taught him? He was in art classes?” I can’t picture it. The guy screams meathead, not artist.

She smiles fondly and then nods her head, walking to me. “I did. But not in high school. I sometimes forget you weren’t here then.”

I never forget that. I’m honestly not sure which is worse—the shitty public schools I was in before I met Rhys and Blair that barely could afford heat, let alone art supplies, or this fucking hoity-toity rich-kid school that has everything a kid like me would never dream of. Including top-of-the-line art supplies and a kick-ass teacher who actually gives a damn about my skill.

I go back to sketching. “I can’t imagine him and art going together.”

She just shakes her head at me, observing my drawing with her keen eye. “He was insanely talented. I was really disappointed to not see his name on my register his freshmen year or after that.”

“Grayson?” I ask again. I jerk my thumb back over my shoulder toward the door he just walked through. “The massive meathead in the letterman jacket?”

“Come on now, Rhett,” she chides. “I thought you were better than labels and all that stereotype crap.”

I feel ashamed because Ms. Holler is the only bright light in this damn school, and damn if I want her disappointed in me. “I am. I just can’t picture it.”

She looks over my dark sketch that absently started as just a girl but has transformed into the friend who I’ve been missing like crazy lately—Bree.

“His work was always bright and beautiful. He used bold pops of color that were truly breathtaking.” Her finger drags along the lines of my dark and, now I’m slightly worried, dull drawing before she adds, “You two actually complement each other perfectly.”

“What?” My eyes snap to hers, unsure how I feel about her statement.

“It’s the perfect contrast, Rhett. Both are beautiful in their own way. Both bold and strong. His choice of colors and your fearless framing. Just breathtaking.”

I stare at her like she’s insane, but she stares at my sketch of Bree with admiration that I’ll admit makes my chest puff out with pride.

“And who is this mystery girl, by the way? You draw her a lot.”

I do. Because Bree is beautiful, inside and out, and even before our fight or whatever the fuck, I was starting to miss her, knowing this bullshit of growing up and becoming adults was going to rip us apart. Sketching her is easier than talking to her and trying like hell to fix what I broke and can’t explain.

I know I harbor too many secrets from her and from Fletch.

Secrets that shouldn’t even be a thing, but they are for me.

“A friend.”

She smiles in a knowing way. She thinks I’m in love with this girl. Or that I’m fucking her. But it’s not that. Teenage love. Me pining after a girl or something like that from the way she’s grinning and then winks at me before walking back to her desk to wait for school to start.

It would be so much easier if it was.





ELEVEN





“Fuuuuck . . . That girl . . .” I don’t bother looking behind me at Josh’s current obsession. It doesn’t matter who it is. He talks like this often. Always about how hot they are and how he can’t wait to see them naked. “Those eyes. That body. That face. She’s . . .”

“She’s what?” I cock an eyebrow and pop a chip into my mouth as I sit at the crowded lunch table, way too used to his antics.

“She’s the future Mrs. Potter.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes. Everyone else is busy with their own conversations and not paying attention to us.

“Oh really?” I know it’s all bullshit, but it has my curiosity heightened for whatever reason. “I gotta see this.”

He’s still making heart eyes at the poor thing behind me. “Yup. I’ll definitely give her my last name. Years of happiness and fidelity.” Yeah, fucking right.

“Before the inevitable divorce,” I snort and turn to look over my shoulder, instantly spotting Bree—a.k.a. my current obsession’s adopted sister. I look around to see if it could be anyone else, but she’s standing alone, checking her phone and leaning against the wall. Her curly hair is piled up on her head, and she looks laser-focused on whatever she’s looking at.

A ping of jealousy goes through me like none other, and it has nothing to do with my friend drooling all over her.

Rhett was drawing her this morning. There’s no way that’s not who was the focus of his drawing. Every detail was the girl standing before me. Down to her cute button nose and pouty lips. And every single curl on her head.

I turn around slowly to return my gaze to Josh, who hasn’t wiped the drool from his chin. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”