The Ivy League

The Ivy League Part 17

COURTNEY'S POV:

I sighed in frustration, giving up on my homework. It was nine o'clock, Tuesday night, and the only thing I could think of was earlier today. That stupid kiss! Why did it have to keep replaying in my head? This was seriously annoying. And I mean seriously. This is so unlike me, to be thinking about something like a kiss. I was always the girl that guys would ask out because they sincerely liked me and admired me, but I would have only friendly feelings for them. I ended up breaking some of their hearts when they realized I didn't feel that way.

I had always felt awful, so that's why I had pretty much stopped dating before I had come to this school.

Holy, what am I thinking? The fact that I came to this school won't change that either, I told myself firmly, knowing anyways that I was lying to myself about not wanting to date anymore. Because I think there might be one guy in this school who I wouldn't mind kissing again.

"Gahh!" I roared, tangling my fingers in my hair and propping my head up on my elbows. I stared down at my math homework and the little sad part of me inexplicably thought about Nate.

He hadn't looked all that pleased to see me so soon after school today. Grace had given me a ride after I had kissed Nate and, consequently, kneed Jake. When we had walked into her house, Ellen had been coming out looking as cool as ever. Though I did think there was more venom to her glare than usual.

I sighed as I remembered Nate's expression. He had looked shocked and kind of pained to see me, clearly only expecting his sister. I was furious with myself for being disappointed. What had I expected? Nothing would change. Why would it?

He was an Ivy Leaguer; messing with them was what I lived for. He was The Hot Guy; I was That Chick Who Sassed The Queen Bee. Even now, my reputation was fading and people were becoming less and less friendly to me and acting more like they normally would have treated someone who had crossed Ellen. It was time to refresh their memories. You don't just forget about Courtney. And if there's danger of being forgotten, I'd have to remind them.

Feeling much more cheered by that thought, I stretched and spent a few idle minutes twirling around in my rolly chair, only it's more fun when someone pushes you. You go faster that way. But I was still quite dizzy five minutes later, and I woozily went in search of a distraction. I found him in the cozy family room beside the gas fireplace, reading a newspaper.

"Hello, um... Courtney," my uncle greeted me warmly. I sensed that he had wanted to say something like 'sweetie' or 'honey' or 'dear' but had realized he was talking to the wrong person for something like that. So he settled for what did match me. My name.

"Hey," I said moodily, perching on the armrest of a couch and twirling a lock of my hair between my fingers.

"Can I have your point of view?" I asked suddenly.

My uncle lowered his newspaper. "Sure, honey, what about?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter; I just feel like disagreeing with something."

He gave me a look and disappeared behind his newspaper again. I regretted it.

"Tell me something interesting," I pleaded, throwing myself across the entire length of a sofa, legs dangling, and turning my head to look at my uncle. He lowered his paper again with an expression of martyrdom on his face.

"Why, interest low in your life at the moment?" he asked.

I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled. "I'm not sure I have anything to tell you that would interest you," he teased. "All I do is sit around home all day, remember?"