Settling the Score

Chapter Twenty-Two

There was no sign of the weekend's rainstorm on Monday. There was only the scorching sun and a dead heat that made me yearn for ice cubes down my back. Shitty air conditioning and smelly high schoolers who didn't know how to use deodorant made the entire day a living hell.

I was stuck in my last class of the day, relishing in the breeze from the cracked window at the back of the room. One of my rosy cheeks rested against my fist while I doodled on the corner of my notebook. Abstract lines matched my unclear thoughts.

The last few minutes of my AP Lit class dragged on. Mr Reid's high-pitched voice reading the part of Juliet Capulet didn't help. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. - O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop. To help me after! I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them. To make die with a restorative."

The clock on the wall above the door ticked slowly while I fought the urge to zone out. It was a losing battle. Images of pouting lips flooded my consciousness. More than that pushed through. Brown eyes, fluttering eyelashes, and even charming lower back dimples. The fluttering in my belly and the flushing of my cheeks only increased with each image and flash.

The last bell jolted me out of my daydream. My knuckles brushed against my jaw, swiping traces of drool that had dribbled from the corner of my lips. It was gross and embarrassing, but what was even more mortifying was the sketch of Rosie's supple lips in my notebook. The drawing was an exact replica of the way I had imagined them in my head, down to the smallest of details. I didn't even need her in front of me to double-check if it matched hers; I knew they were spot-on. The realization was even worse than the drawing itself.

"Can you stay behind, Dan?" Mr. Reid requested, while everyone else headed out of the room in droves.

"Nay can doth, boss. I hath't practice," Dan said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Mr. Reid pointed to a page on his desk with the end of his pen and said, "'Twill only taketh a minute."

"Meet you outside the locker room. I've got something cool to show you," Dan said to me, blanking Eduardo as he walked up to the front desk.

"Wonder what that's about?" Eduardo asked me, leaning too close to my table-to the notebook-for comfort.

I couldn't respond, too busy clicking the invisible marker light off, and slamming the notebook closed. I hide it inside my bag.

"Heat getting to you?" he asked, patting my back.

"Something like that," I mumbled, blowing out a puff of air as we made our way out of the classroom. The hallway reeked of stale sweat. Better breathing in toxic teenage fumes than him seeing what was in my notebook. "I just want to go home already."

"Too bad. I need a second pair of eyes at practice if Coach bails again. I'm hosting goalie try-outs today. I need youto test the candidates for me. Hit them with your best shot."