"My name is Ava Hansen and I..."
"Yes..."
"Seventeen."
"No, but..."
"Please, if..."
The line goes dead on the other side and I slam my phone on the table.
"Where the fuck do they expect me to get experience if nobody will give me my first chance?" I complain out loud, fighting the urge to hurl something across the empty space and down the library balcony. Which would have to be my English textbook, my essay notebook or my copy of Hamlet, so no thanks, I would rather keep my anger in check.
My shitty old phone is obviously out of the question. Shitty, old or not, it's the only one I've got.
"Beats me too," a voice comes from behind me, and I swivel in my seat.
A tall blonde guy is standing behind my chair, carrying a backpack, holding its strap in one hand and a lollipop in the other.
"You are late Jude," I accuse, looking at my wrist watch.
We were supposed to meet at 4.00pm, not 4.12pm.
Jude Walker walks forward and drops his bag on top of my books. I push it away.
"God forbid that we all be on time," he says, taking a seat directly opposite me. His blue eyes rise to mine. "Remind me again, what's your name?"
What? Really?
"Gotta be kidding me," I mutter beneath my breath, collecting my English books and stuffing them in my bag.
"No I'm not," he answers. "Arya? Angela? It's got an A somewhere, right?"
I hold my bag on my lap and stare at him, speechless. He is fúcking serious.
Wow.
I've gone to the same school as this guy for three freaking years, going on to four, and he doesn't know my name? Yes, we are not in any class together but we are in the same year so what the hell?
He lifts his lollipop and pops it into his mouth. He continues looking at me, waiting for my response.
Hah!
I ignore him and start digging for my Math book. I place it, more like slam it, on the table, then follow it up with a workbook and a diary. I place my bag aside and grasp a pen.
I look back at him.
"We need to make a schedule," I tell him.
He frowns, then pulls the candy from between his lips, leaving them glistening and red.
"You're not gonna tell me your name?"
"What do you want? My name, or help with Math?" I snap.
"Both." Then before I can catch on to him, he reaches forward and grabs my workbook. He looks at the cover before returning it. His red lips stretch into a smile. "Ava. Ava Hansen. I knew it had an A somewhere."
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth loud enough so he doesn't miss the sound. "Congrats on the close guess, genius. How about we work on that schedule now?"
He winks and leans back in his seat, all carefree.
I stare at him and wait for him to say something, but it looks as if he is doing the same thing, waiting for me to say something. Which I already have, but oh well.
"You going to say anything?" I prod.
He leans forward again, twisting the lolly stick between his fingers. "You know, I always thought you were nice."
I groan and press the heel of my palm against my forehead, fighting a fresh urge.
To throw my pen right between his eyes and see what happens.
"And I always knew you were an annoying asshole," I shoot back.
He draws back, his brows actually coming together in a frown.
Did I surprise him?
I know sometimes we don't realise some things about ourselves until another person points them out, but really? That should have been obvious to him.
"No I'm not," he denies.
I throw my hands around, suddenly tired of this pointless conversation.
"Whatever, can we make the fúcking schedule right now?"
He shrugs. "I didn't know you were the cursing type, either," he says, his red lips turning up in a hidden smile.
Oh what the hell.
*****
Jude Walker is the classic blond blue-eyed beauty, trust me when I say.
Don't go getting any cute boy next door images in your mind, though.
Jude Walker is not cute, and he is not nice.
Well, that last one I don't know, but judging from my first ever proper meeting with him, which was a Math study session that ended ten minutes ago — after lasting ten minutes half of which we argued and the other managed to make a schedule — I can confidently say I didn't detect a single nice bone in his being.
Jude is hot. Not cute.
He might be a jerk, but I'm a girl with eyes, and when I see eye candy I name it for what it is. I've been around the guy for three years, so I've seen his hotness a lot of times, but one thing is sure.
It never diminishes.
Sometimes when you get used to something it eventually loses its appeal after a while, but this one guy seems to get hotter and hotter as the days go by.
Two days ago, my Math teacher told me there was a student who needs help with his Math, asking whether I could offer to tutor him. I'm good at Math, and always welcome a little practice, so I agreed.
I don't know who I had expected, but Jude had been a surprise.
School football team star Jude Walker, school bad boy Jude Walker.
The moment I left Ms. Fernandez's office, I did a bit of digging here and there, otherwise known as stalking.
Jude is not a dumb kid. In fact, I think he has more As on his transcript than I do. I was wondering why he needed my help when I noticed his Math grades. We were halfway through our last school year, and the highest he had managed was a B, which compared to the rest of his subjects was poor.
He was going all out on As. I couldn't help but admire him.
I was a bit flabbergasted at his high grades, however. Let me confess I was a victim of believing in the stereotype of dumb jocks.
If he wasn't so annoying, maybe I would like him a little.
We have successfully made a schedule, though I wouldn't exactly call it a schedule.
We have the days.
Not the time.
Which, if you ask me, makes the whole thing useless and pointless.
We cancelled out the days he has football practice, and the days I have club meetings.
Drama and Journalism, which he thinks are too many.
Which leaves us with Tuesday and Friday.
"I'm pretty sure nothing will be happening on Fridays," he says as we head out of the library area.
"Why not?" I ask, irked that he is making this hard, even though it's all for him.
He shrugs. "I mean, it's Friday," he says.
The reason of reasons, if you ask me.
"Why are we restricting ourselves to evenings, anyway?" he asks.
"You want to do it early in the morning before classes?" I suggest.
"Hell no, I barely get up in time for the first class."
Makes two of us.
"I'm saying four to six. What about you?"
We walk in silence for a while.
"Only four hours per week?" he asks.
"I'm up for more, just give me the time," I say.
I literally have all the time in the world, since finding a job for after school has proved futile for me. I snicker mentally, remembering the voice over my phone.
"How old are you?"
"Have you had any experience waitressing before?"
"I'm sorry, in that case we can't take you in, we need..."
Like what the fúck, it's a waitressing job in a restaurant at the very edge of town, not a hostess at a five star spa in the middle of the city or something fancy like that.
"I'll let you know," Jude says as we come to the front of the school.
"Cool," I mumble, and start off on my way.
"Hey, wait," he calls, and I look back at him.
I stand still and wait for him to say something.
"Thanks for taking me up," he says, serious for once with no trace of humour in his voice.
I shrug. "It's a way of revision for me," I answer and turn away. This time round, he doesn't call me back.
Later on at night, I'm in my room, done with my homework and texting my bestie, Jennifer."Jo?" I hear mum's voice shout from the kitchen. "Aren't you supposed to do the dishes tonight?"I put my phone away, cursing. "What? No, it's Maria's turn tonight," I scream right back.We are not lunatics, communicating across our expansive house just requires a little bit more effort."You didn't do them yesterday," Maria's voice joins the clatter.I leave my room, already guessing how this will end. I go down the hall and through the living room to the kitchen."Sam did it for me last night," I say when I get there."You didn't do it, that's what matters," Maria says, turning to face me with a self satisfied smirk. She tosses her long dyed hair back, as if challenging me to say something.
In the morning, I'm at my locker stealing glances at Jennifer's to see when she arrives when a lollipop in red wrapping is thrust into my face.I turn and there is Jude, leaning against the locker next to mine. Grinning. I blink. Once, twice, then take a step back.He waves the lolly in my face. "Here's my peace offering, for being a jerk yesterday.""You are not always a jerk?" I ask, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.His lips, that have already been reddened by candy this early in the day, pull up in a smirk. "And you are not always rude, are you?"I reach for the sweet, but he holds onto it. He arches a brow. "Off to a better restart?""Okay," I agree. I snatch it out of his hands and shove it into my jacket pocket.He doesn't leave. He reaches into his jeans pocket and retrieves another lollipop. He's wearing
That evening, I find myself in detention, a place I've never been before. Simon trudges in behind me, clearly not as put off as I am. Which doesn't surprise me, because he isn't new to this.That morning, after getting into English class, I settled in my seat peacefully, retrieving a novel that I was in the middle of so I could get a little reading before Mrs Rutherford started the lesson. Simon took the seat behind me, while Jen settled in the one beside me. Minutes later, Mrs Rutherford started the class. As soon as she instructed us to open a certain page on our textbooks, though, I noticed that she was in a foul mood. Given the snicker that came from behind me, so did Simon.Ford, as most of the students called her, was, mostly, an okay teacher. But, she dealt ruthlessly with students who crossed her. That fine morning, she gave us an exercise to do, then sat back at her desk, her sharp eye
"Mum? I'll have a friend over to study, maybe starting next week," I say in the evening during dinner. Which I immediately realise is a mistake, since everyone is now paying attention to me."What friend?" Maria asks, nose turned up."None of your business," I mutter and keep my eyes on mum. I should have asked her when nobody was around. "He was assigned to me by Ms. Fernandez, to tutor.""He?" Lilly sputters, covering her mouth that's full of food. She appeared at home earlier on in the evening, saying there's something she needed to talk to mum and dad about. She goes to a university some four hours away, in her second year.Maria tosses her blonde hair back and leans forward. Nobody in our family has blonde hair, - Dad has dark hair, and there's nothing like blonde hair in Mum's entire race. She dyed it on her fifteenth birthday, shortly after she got her first boyfriend. A fact
Simon leans towards me during lunch, awkwardly scratching his eyebrow. "Lilly's home?" he asks, keeping his voice low. I hold back a smile. I know he doesn't want anyone else at the table to hear him, because they would make fun of him. He has had the biggest crush ever on my elder sister for years. "Who told you that?" I ask, humoring him. "Trey told me she said hi," he replies, now touching his frames. "He lied." He actually looks crestfallen for a second, and I feel awful. I pinch his cheek lightly to show I'm joking. "Just kidding, buddy, yeah she said hi," I say, though I'm pretty certain Trey was lying to him. "Yeah, she came home yesterday. Want to see her?" He flushes and I chuckle. I lean in further towards him and sigh. "Come on
"Ugh, no, I don't like going to the mall," I object automatically. He arches his brow. "Why?" "It's full of people." "And?" I groan and smack my forehead. "Nothing. Never mind." "Okay, let's go," he says, sticking the lollipop between his lips and turning to leave. I hesitate for a second more, then sigh in defeat. I survived detention. I can certainly survive the mall. Here goes. Minutes later, we are seated in his posh car, having rushed through the rain. I touch my hair, hoping it doesn't get frizzy. I fasten my seatbelt and lean back into the passenger seat. The seats are fine leather, and in here it smells nice. "Loaded, are we?" I tease, running my hand along the smooth leather. I don't know much about cars, and I won't pretend to, but I know this is
The first thing I notice when I get to the hallway where my locker is situated early Friday morning is Jude, laughing at something Cole is saying and banging his hand on his locker.I narrow my eyes, my hand folded around my hankie, two other stuffed in my jeans pockets.I'm about to ruin somebody's jovial morning mood.I march over to the two. I've just gotten there when my nose tickles on the insides, and I feel it coming.I raise my handkerchief to my nostrils."Aaacho!"I sigh in relief as I wipe my nose. The two boys are no longer making noise, instead staring at me. I put my hand down and glare at Jude."Oh shit," he mumbles.Nice word choice."Nothing will happen, I promise," I taunt, imitating his voice from yesterday after he had handed me the swe
It's Saturday night and I have nothing to do, through with my book — sadly — and too lazy to read on my phone. It's way into the night and I'm beneath my blankets, phone poised above my face as I try to find something interesting to do. I could play Candy Crush, but I've been stuck on one level for close to four weeks.I come across my facebook app and realise I haven't visited the site for... I honestly can't remember the last time. I tap on it and go online, sliding through my news feed and soon enough I'm laughing at the funny posts. About half an hour later, I get an idea.I bring up the search bar and type in "Jude Walker".I find myself curious and wanting to see what life he has on social media. I mean, I'll be spending considerable time with him so I should probably know what sort of a person I'm dealing with, right?Yeah, okay, so that's just an excuse to try and just