12 | Meet The Family

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I could feel Cole's stare burning a hole though me the moment I stepped into our first period class, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. Instead, I carried on how I had this morning when he came to pick Luke up for school: I ignored him. Yes, maybe I was being a wee bit childish and cross with Cole for not telling me any information last night.

But even though I was well aware of my immaturity, I didn't stop. I was annoyed that he didn't tell me any of the answers that I was fishing for. So, I carried on with the plan of ignoring his presence, even when I sat down a few seats away and he got up to move his things so he could sit next to me.

I didn't even answer when he started talking, either. "Lauren? Come on, Lauren, don't be mad at me."

Instead of answering, I took out my notebook from my backpack and put it on my desk.

"If you knew the circumstances, you would understand why I can't tell you," Cole tried next, and I had to bite my tongue from yelling then tell me the circumstances!

I grabbed a pen from my bag and opened the notebook to a fresh page.

"You're giving me the silent treatment as if we're ten," Cole says casually, then adds, "It doesn't bother me."

Again, I have to bite my tongue so I didn't point out that his begging said otherwise, and he really was bothered. I begin writing the date in my notebook to busy myself.

He groans a moment later. "Alright, fine, it bothers me. Lauren, just talk to me already. Or don't talk, just look at me. Your middle school tactics worked. Are you happy?"

The teacher walks in as the bell rings seconds later and drops her bag on the desk before regarding the students. Cole slumped in his seat, and I happily took notes for the next forty five minutes, never once sparing my brothers best friend a glance. Actually, I converse with very few people for the first half of my day, and it's not until I'm in Environmental Science when I entertain a real conversation. It went something like this:

I was sitting at my table next to my smelly lab partner when Brett Peterson, a jock that sits in front of me, turned around. My eyebrows raised and I expected a stupid pick up line, or something along the lines of the shameless flirting that random guys in my classes have been trying with me since I've 'changed'. Instead, he looked at me and then down at my lab notebook, before glancing up at me again.

"Hey, Lauren," Brett greets with a thousand-watt smile. "Can I see your data from lab 5?"

My surprise made me hesitate before answering. "Oh, yeah, sure." I handed him my notebook. "Sorry if the handwriting is a little...well, horrible."

He looked down at my notebook and chuckled. "Trust me, I've seen worse. Thanks."

I cracked a smile as Brett turned around to examine something that he was having issues with. After a few minutes of monotonously adding drops of sulfate into a solution, I looked up to see Brett turn around again.

"Here you go. Thanks again," Brett hands me my notebook and then meets my gaze. "Are you coming to the game on Friday?"

Brett was one of Thomas' football buddies that was actually half decent. He was always nice to me when I saw him, which was usually in science or at a football game. I used to go to every game to see Thomas, but he would never hang out with me after; he always told me that he was going to his friends house to drink and that I couldn't come. I inwardly flinched at the memory, but outwardly shook my head immediately when Brett asked this.

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