I’m not going to lie to myself, it’s comforting knowing that it wasn’t Jensen watching me sleep, but I can’t explain why. Both of them could easily overpower me, however I don’t think Tanner would hurt me … at least, not physically. Jensen on the other hand, he lacks morals, and I don’t doubt that given the chance, he’ll try to take things further. Either way, I’m locking all windows and doors from here on out.
“Alright,” Mrs. Porter says, her narrowed, pissed-off stare sailing across the room and lingering on Tanner, clearly not pleased with his little show. “Get your books out, we’ll be starting the term with a deep dive into the Civil War.”
Keeping my stare locked on the front of the classroom, I grab my notebook and open to a new page before scrawling today’s date in the top corner. I don’t dare look back, and I don’t dare allow him to take another moment of my time. At least, for now. Something tells me that the asshole at the back of the room is going to demand all too much of my attention.
“What the hell was that?” Ilaria screeches under her breath, leaning across from her desk directly beside me as the room fills with noise of rustling papers.
“That,” I murmur back, trying to keep our conversation somewhat private. “Is the bullshit Tanner has been hitting me with. This lipstick,” I say, taking the offending item and sliding it to the top of my desk to allow space for my books. “Is the lipstick he used to write a message on my mirror in the middle of the night.”
“Your mirror?” she questions. “Wait … what do you mean?”
I quickly glance around, making sure no one is listening. “He broke into my room in the middle of the night while I was sleeping and wrote on my mirror like a fucking creeper. I thought it was Jensen at first, but clearly Tanner wanted me to know it was him.”
Ilaria’s jaw goes slack, her eyes widening like saucers as she grips the edge of her desk and leans in closer. “Hold up. There is so much to unpack right now,” she says. “We’ll circle back to the lipstick. But Jensen? Do you mean Jensen Channing? Like, you’re living with Jensen Channing now?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Shit, girl. That’s messed up. I don’t want to freak you out but that guy … he’s a bit of a creep. You need to be careful. Last year, a freshman accused him of trying to force himself on her. Luckily, someone walked in and she ran off, but nothing came of it. It was he said, she said, and his father—”
“Best criminal lawyer in the state,” I finish for her. “Trust me, I know. His dad is just as much of an asshole as he is, only in a cocky, untouchable way. But you don’t need to warn me about Jensen, I’m already watching him closely. After I moved in, he referred to us as siblings and promised to make me feel extra welcome.”
“Fuck, you know what? My parents don’t let me have friends stay late on weeknights, but on the weekends, if you wanna crash at my place, you can.”
Relief floods through my chest and I let out a breath, not realizing just how much fear I’ve been holding over Jensen’s games. “You know, I might just take you up on that.”
“Eyes to the front,” Mrs. Porter says. “Let’s get started.”
Fifty minutes later, the bell has hardly sounded and Tanner is already out the door, whipping past me, his manly scent practically hitting me in the face. I can’t help but breathe him in. He’s intoxicating, and the smell sends a rush of heat through my veins. I find myself silently begging him to look down at me, just one small glance in my direction, but I get nothing.
I can’t explain it. I don’t know why I want his eyes on me, but I do, and that one little desire is going to get me in a world of trouble.
Why do I find him so thrilling? He makes me want to get in his face again, want to throw insults just so I can be close to him, just so I can see the way his eyes flare when he’s around me. There’s no mistaking it, I make him feel some kind of way. I just don’t know what kind of way that is.
The door slams shut behind him, and I hastily pack up my things before slipping the tube of lipstick into my skirt pocket. Ilaria gives me directions to my next class and tells me where I can meet her during our first break, and just like that, I’m moving out of the classroom and bumping shoulders with the other students trying to go about their day.
An hour later, I step through the open doors of the biggest cafeteria I’ve ever seen. “Holy crap,” I murmur to myself, needing to pause just inside the door to take it all in. The cafeteria at Hope Falls was practically nonexistent. There were a few tables and an overworked lunch lady. For the most part, students would just pack their own lunch and sit outside to eat, but this right here, this is the heart of the whole damn school.
Large circular tables fill the room and noise bounces off the walls. A few teachers casually stroll around, keeping the peace while students relax and catch up with friends they haven’t seen since before the summer. A soft smile pulls at the corners of my lips, one I can’t explain. Maybe it’s the sense of community here or just the way that the whole student body can sit in one room without tearing shreds off each other. It’s chaotic, but it’s also calming.
I find Tanner almost immediately, his dark eyes watching me like a hawk as he sits in the furthest corner of the cafeteria with his friends all around him, hyping him up like he’s some kind of god. Cheerleaders loiter around the guys table, and I have to stop myself from scoffing. It’s the same hierarchy at every school. I don’t doubt that there’s one cheerleader in particular who thinks that she has some kind of claim over Tanner and his friends, though I’d bet everything I have that Tanner doesn’t feel the same way.
All I know is that there are two groups of people I need to steer very clear of.
His stare is electrifying and sends a tingle sailing down my spine, making me feel uneasy and nervous. I look away, not wanting my first cafeteria experience to revolve around him, while also not wanting to draw any more attention to myself. It’s bad enough being the new girl, but to have the eyes of the most popular guy in school on me is bound to raise a few eyebrows.
A hand shoots up out of the crowd, and I find Ilaria waving me down. “Bri, over here,” she calls through the masses.
I give her a tight smile and make my way toward her, noticing that she sits with two other girls. One looks as though she just came from a photo shoot with her long golden hair falling in perfect waves down her back and a sharp stare narrowing at the sight of me, as though I’m some kind of threat. The other girl doesn’t seem to even notice me coming—or just doesn’t care. She’s petite, unlike her supermodel, golden friend beside her who has legs for days. There’s something warm about this petite girl, she seems kind and almost fragile with her soft features and light eyes.
“I take it that you made it through Bio without incident?” Ilaria asks as I reach the edge of the big table.
She grins up at me, and I can’t help but grin right back. “Only just!”
Her friends watch me with furrowed brows, but Ilaria is quick to do the introductions. “This is Chanel and Arizona,” she tells me, pointing out the golden model as Chanel and the fragile petite girl as Arizona before turning to them. “This is Brielle. She just started today and has already become Tanner’s new project.”