A Four Letter Word (6 page)

"Really."
Did he honestly think I would say no?  I just don’t kiss anybody, especially someone I just met.  Griffin is someone I definitely want to see again and get to know better.

He hands me his cell phone, and I input my number and hand it back to him.

"Great, I'll, um, give you a call later this week."

"Sounds good."

Round four of butterfly wars begins in the pit of my stomach. Griffin steps closer to me. "I'm glad you came tonight."

"Me too."

"Zoey?"

"Yeah?"

Griffin's twinkling blue eyes stare at my lips and then back to my eyes, silently asking for permission. I nod. His lips touch mine, and I melt into him. His lips are soft and warm and just feel…feel…perfect. The kiss is gentle, yet more. Before it deepens, we pull apart. I feel like I'm floating.

"I'll call you, definitely I'm…definitely calling you. Soon, like, really soon." Griffin seems just as affected by that kiss as I am.

Lost for words, I simply smile and nod. I turn from him, as much as I don't want to. "Bye Griffin."

"Bye,
Zoey."

I start to walk away and glance over my shoulder to see Griffin smiling,
and he mouths "Soon." I smile and probably blush, giving him a little wave. Griffin smiles and waves back.
Soon
echoes in my head. I feel like I'm back in high school and the most popular boy just asked me out.

Get a grip,
Zoey.

I shake my head at myself and my silliness. My eyes focus on the tall, brooding man standing by the door. My best friend and I are going to have to have a little talk about his bodyguard assignment.

Soon…very soon.

Chapter 6

High School Sophomore Year, first day…

To say I am nervous would be the understatement of the century. I am beyond nervous—this is bordering on needing to be locked up. My anxiety level is shooting through the roof.

I love school, but the first day of a new school year always has me running for the hills. Of course I know what classes I am taking, but it is the other stuff in between that gets to me. Who do I sit with at lunch? Where is my locker? Why do I have to take gym again? Will I know anyone in my classes? Will this year be any different? The list of questions goes on and on.

At least this year I won't be the new kid—the fresh face everyone is dying to get a look at. That was last year. My parents and I had moved from Michigan toward the end of my freshman year; nothing like starting in a new school when the year's practically over. Yeah, that helps one's lack of self-esteem and shyness. I did my best to blend in, to go unnoticed. I did fairly well, actually. No small feat. My dad’s job made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, heading up his own division, higher pay, more benefits. I totally get it now but, when you’re fifteen and an introvert it doesn’t make sense.  I hated leaving the comfort of Michigan, leaving behind my routine—what I knew and was happy with. I am not one to welcome change with open arms. In fact, it scares the shit out of me. But, I understood my dad's need for a change, so I sucked it up as best I could. Plus I had to leave behind the closest friend I ever had, Abby, so it made it even harder.  Abby and I had been best friends since kindergarten.  We promised we would keep in touch, visit, and whatnot, but that lasted about the first few months, until she became Miss Popularity and didn’t have time for me anymore.

My freshman year ended with finding a great friend—Erica Bennett. She made the change a lot more bearable.  Our schedules this year are similar. We have both AP English and Biology together. However, I am on my own when it comes to Calculus and American History, and I don't have a clue who in the hell I am going to sit with at lunch.

I
hate
the first day of school.

Being a sophomore this year does have its perks though. I am able to drive to school, since I just turned sixteen and I don’t have to depend on the bus or my dad driving me
—the advantages of starting kindergarten a year later than everyone else. I park my Honda, grab my bag, and climb out ready to face my first day back at school. The last of the summer air lingers, and the sun warms my face. As I start to make my way through the parking lot, I chant my new mantra over and over again.
This year is going to be different, this year is going to be different.

I say a silent prayer that it will when I reach the steps. I glance up at the two-story building, take a deep breath, and carefully make my way up the
steps. Don't need a repeat performance of last year's first day— falling up the stairs. Something only I could manage.

This year is going to be different—
echoes with each step.

I reach the doors incident-free. The distinct smell of school hits me instantly as I walk through the double doors. The smell of new backpacks, textbooks, copier toner, freshly-sharpened pencils, mystery meat lunch, the faint smell of fresh paint, and floor wax swirl in the air. I inhale the aroma, trying to steady my nerves. The familiarity of it minutely calms the roll in my stomach.

This year is going to be different.

I easily make my way down the hall, my schedule and locker assignment clutched in my left hand, while my right hand tightly secures my backpack to my shoulder. All I need is to get bumped, lose my balance, and have the contents of my backpack spill out everywhere while my face gets some alone time with the linoleum. I find my locker, and after several attempts, it finally opens. I slip my things inside, and right when I close it, I am met with a wide smile and welcoming familiar eyes—Erica.

I breathe a sigh of utter relief.

"Oh my God, there you are. I've been down every
freakin' hall. Of course your locker would be on the last one." The smile and familiarity of Erica's face is a welcomed sight.

"Where's your locker?" I ask, grasping my things close to my chest. Even though Erica's found me, nervousness still courses through my veins.

"The next hall over. You okay?" she questions, her left eyebrow cocked.

"I'll be better once this day is over," I easily admit.

Erica nods. "Well, I guess we should head to AP English. I'm so glad we have first and third period together."

"Thank God for small favors, I wish we had all our classes together, including lunch." My voice is shaky, my nerves kicking into overdrive just thinking of being alone in my other classes and lunch.

"Zoey, you'll be fine, trust me. You're not the new kid anymore. I'm sure you'll know somebody in your other classes and lunch, too." She nudges me with her shoulder trying to reassure me. I shrug, and the two of us make our way to our first class.

We leave AP English, my brain swimming, thinking of all the amazing books we are going to read and all the work we will have to do. AP English is definitely going to be my favorite class this year.

"So, I'll see you third period, Biology?" Erica asks, concern evident in her tone.

Time to buck up,
Zoey. You're a freakin' sophomore and no longer the new kid. Remember, this year is going to be different.

"
Zoey?"

"Um, sorry.
Yeah, Biology. I'll see you third period."

"See
ya." Erica turns and makes her way down the hall and out of sight.

I grip my books tightly to my chest and make my way the opposite direction—time for Calculus. What fun.

****

God, I
freakin' hate math. Whoever decided teenagers needed three math credits in order to graduate needed to be shot. Calculus was going to be the death of me. I navigate my way through the crowded hall to Biology. I'm not too thrilled having to take it, either.

Stupid Science requirement.

The idea of cutting into dead animals is just repulsive; the whole idea of it makes me shudder. I enter the classroom and immediately spot Erica—she's waving her hands in the air like I wouldn't see her.

"This is so great—we get to be lab partners." Excitement is in her voice as I take my seat next to her.

"Yeah, great, but which one of us is going to cut into the baby pig?" I quirk an eyebrow at her.

"Oh my God,
Zoey, I didn't think about that. Um, shit, we'll figure something out." Her face pales slightly, and I'm sure mine mirrors hers.

There is chit-chat all around us. People talking about what they did over the summer, what classes they have. My attention is suddenly drawn to the door, as if I had no choice but to look, and when I do, I see the most beautiful boy I have ever seen in my entire life. His looks rival that of any movie star. His hair is a mess
on top of his head, it’s nearly jet black, with purplish highlights shining in the fluorescent lights; it slightly hangs in his eyes. It looks super soft and I just want to run my fingers through it to find out. His jeans hit low on his hips, and the gray t-shirt he's wearing hugs his torso, showing off his lean, muscular form. His eyes scan the room, and he nods to someone off to the right, making his way towards them. Never seeing me. My heart is racing.

"Erica, who is that?"
I nod to the beautiful boy as he makes his way to his seat.

"Oh,
that
? That's Evan 'the jerk' Harris." She doesn't hide the disdain in her voice.

"The jerk?"

"Well, that's what I've heard. I've never met him, but from what I've heard, he's a piece of work."

Too bad.

"What did you say?"

Shit, I said that out loud.

"Um, nothing." My eyes gaze on him a little longer, and then I turn my attention to our teacher entering the room.

Our teacher, Mr. Williams, enters the class, and everyone settles down. "Okay, everyone up. I am going to assign your seats, and who you sit with will be your lab partner for the year."

I cringe at his request. Erica gives me a look like "I don't believe this." We both grab our stuff and begrudgingly slide out of our seats. We make our way to stand with everyone else. My eyes drift down the line of students waiting for their seating assignments, and I can't help but gaze at Evan. Erica said she heard he was a jerk, but that can't be true, can it? I mean, rumors run rampant in high school. Sure, some are true, but for the most part they aren't. Maybe when it comes to Evan Harris they aren't. I watch him intently interacting with the guys and a few girls he's standing with. He definitely exudes confidence with the way he's standing; his body language screams it. Or could it be arrogance? Maybe that's why he's considered a jerk? I mean, look at him—he doesn't look like the typical high school guy. He looks like he should be conceited. And from my experience, most conceited people are jerks.

The blonde girl standing next to him stifles a giggle when he leans in and whispers in her ear.

Oh my God. He's flirting with her right in the middle of class. What a jerk!
Erica's right.

I turn my attention away from The Jerk.

"Evan Harris," Mr. Williams calls out, and Evan saunters to his new seat like he's too good for it and Mr. Williams is wasting his time.

Yep, jerk, definitely a jerk.

I turn to Erica and whisper in her ear, "I hope he's not my lab partner."

"That makes two of us."

Mr. Williams continues to call out names. I feel my pulse quicken as he makes his way around the room, clipboard in hand.

"Erica Bennett."

Erica gives me an apologetic smile and makes her way to her new seat. She is sitting with some guy, leaving me to stand alone and without any chance of her being my lab partner. My shoulders slump in defeat, and I begin to worry my lip between my teeth. I thought having Erica and I in the same class would be comforting. Mr. Williams is definitely pushing me out of my comfort zone.

Stupid seating assignments.

Mr. Williams gets to the back of the room and makes his way back up front, calling out more names.

Please, don't let Evan "The Jerk" Harris be my lab partner, please?

"Zoey Richards." Mr. Williams's voice pulls me out of my reverie. I see his pencil tapping the empty seat. I move towards my new seat, to my new lab partner, and that's when I see him—Evan Harris.

Shit, my lab partner is Evan "The Jerk" Harris.

The chair scrapes against the floor as I pull it out. I feel my cheeks heat up as put my stuff down and sit. "Sorry,” I mumble.  Evan just shrugs his shoulders. I fumble with my notebook, and of course, it drops to the floor between our seats. I bend down to pick it up, and as I reach for it, Evan does too. Our hands touch, and I feel a shock when they do. Surprised, my head jerks up, and I am staring into a sea of greenish brown. His eyes are the most amazing hazel color I've ever seen. I can't help but stare. It feels as though time stops, the other students dissolve, and it's just me and him.

"Here
ya go." His velvet voice flows through to me.

I swallow. "Thanks."

I place my notebook on my side of our lab table and just stare at it as my heart beats erratically in my chest. My palms feel sweaty, and the room seems smaller than before. My eyes want to so desperately peer at him, but I won’t let them as difficult as it is.

"Okay, now that everyone has their new seats, I am going to pass out the syllabus for the first half of the course. Oh, and don't come to me about your seating assignment—there's no changing. Who you sit with right now will be your lab partner for the entire year so get used to it." Mr. Williams grabs the class's attention.

Great, I'm stuck.

I can't help but peer at him through the curtain of hair I've created between us. Between the parted strands of hair, I take in his profile. He really is beautiful—a beautiful
jerk. But, so far, he seems nice. I mean, he did, after all, bend down and pick up my notebook for me. If he was a jerk, he wouldn't do that, right? Maybe they are just rumors after all. Maybe Evan Harris is just a nice guy—a beautifully-looking, nice guy.

I let out a sigh.

"You okay?"

I turn my attention to him, and his vibrant eyes mirror—concern?

"Um, I'm fine. Sorry."

He leans over our table, his face coming closer to me. I hold my breath. He hands me my syllabus and leans in further. "You, know you don't have to keep saying that." His warm breath fans across my neck, tickling my ear.

"Sor-I mean, okay."

"Good. I'm Evan, by the way." His face pulls away, and a crooked smile draws the corner of his mouth up.

"Zoey." I barely get my name passed the lump in my throat.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He quirks an eyebrow at me.