Reluctantly, I turn in my seat and face forward, doing my best to focus on the day’s lesson and not the distracting boy sitting next to me.
When the bell rings forty-five minutes later, I don’t know that I really retained a single thing the teacher talked about. Normally, I’m good at shutting it off, but today I couldn’t stop glancing over at Ethan, my imagination running wild with me.
“Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ethan stands, collecting his things.
“Yeah, tomorrow,” I croak, not moving a single inch before he turns and quickly exits the classroom.
I let out a disappointed sigh as I grab my things and slowly climb out of my desk.
At least he talked to you today, the little voice in my head tries to reassure me.
It’s not wrong. Some days he just smiles and takes his seat. The days he actually speaks are usually the highlight of my week. I should be elated. Instead, I feel like someone just tore the head off my favorite stuffed animal.
It’s exhausting, secretly lusting after someone who barely looks your way. I wish there was a way to shut it off, to just forget about Ethan and focus on someone more attainable, someone who’s a better match for me. But it doesn’t matter what I do, I always come back to him. I can’t help it. There’s just something about him.
Tucking my books in the crook of my arm, I’m the last person to leave the classroom as I lazily make my way out into the hallway and head in the direction of my locker.
The halls are crowded with students all eager to leave for the day. I weave in and out of several groups that have stopped to talk, annoyed that they have to stand right in the middle of the hallway where everyone has to maneuver around them.
When I round the corner to where my locker sits on the other side, I nearly run head on into Callum, barely able to stop myself before colliding with his chest.
“Watch it,” I snip, looking up at him before side stepping around him.
“My bad.” He holds his hands up and lets me pass. “I didn’t realize you owned this hallway.”
I ignore his snide remark and cross the last few feet to my locker before spinning the dial and popping it open. Shoving my things inside, I grab my bag and drape it over my shoulder before turning to see Callum still standing in the same place, his gaze locked on me.
“Problem?” I ask, annoyed and a bit self-conscious.
“Nope. No problem at all.” He grins like he knows something I don’t before he turns and disappears around the corner.
I look down, taking an inventory of myself, making sure I don’t have something on my shirt, or worse, on the back of my pants. When I’ve determined that I look fine, I shake off Callum’s clear attempt to mess with me and turn, making my way toward the back parking lot of the school where Camila and April are likely waiting on me.
CHAPTER TWO
POPPY
IT’S JUST AFTER EIGHT when I finally return home from bathing suit shopping with April and Camila. And while I bought two different bikinis, I’m pretty certain I won’t be wearing either of them anytime soon. I more so bought them to appease my friends and not because I actually want them. I’ve never been an overly flashy person, but I wouldn’t say I’m conservative either. I guess you could say I fall somewhere in the middle. I like dressing nice and feeling my best, but I don’t feel like I have to walk around half naked to accomplish that.
The house is dark as I make my way inside. No surprise there. My mom is gone more than she’s here, and while that used to bother me, I’ve gotten used to it over the years. She’s always out with her friends or random guys. Honestly, she acts like she’s in her twenties, out partying it up, instead of being home raising her daughter. Not that I need her to raise me anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need her around. It’s like the second I turned eighteen, she threw her hands up and declared that she was done. Too bad she wasn’t much of a mother the seventeen years that came before that.
I head toward the kitchen, flipping on the lights as I go. I find a letter on the island, but I only skim it because I already know what it’s going to say. She went out, don’t wait up, make myself something for dinner. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I crumble the piece of paper and toss it in the trash can.
I try not to be too hard on my mother. She did have me when she was seventeen and basically gave up her youth, a fact she reminds me of constantly. Like that’s somehow my fault. Her and my father didn’t last long, divorcing right before my second birthday. And while I’ve always lived with my mom, I have a good relationship with my dad. Unlike my mom, who never went to college and works a full-time office job that she absolutely hates, my dad went to Brown and is now pretty high up at a very prominent financial company in Dallas. He’s always taken care of us financially, which is no doubt the only reason we can afford the house we live in. It’s nothing lavish but more than a single mom on a subpar salary could ever afford. Unfortunately, because he lives in Dallas, I don’t get to see him that often, but he calls when he can.
Blowing out a breath, I tug open the fridge and grab a bottle of water before deciding to go out to check the mail. Dropping the water on the island, I head toward the front door, tugging it open moments later.
I make my way down the driveway and retrieve the mail, turning back up toward my house. I’m about halfway to my porch when I hear a door open. My gaze goes to the left just in time to see Callum and Sarah walk out onto his front porch, clothes rumpled and hair a mess.
When he tugs her to his chest and lays a long kiss on her lips, I know I should look away. But like looking at a car accident, for some reason I just can’t, even though I have no desire to see what I’m seeing.
Moments later he releases her, smacking her ass as she heads down the front steps. She lets out a little yelp and throws him a wide smile over her shoulder before climbing into her little two door sedan.
I don’t realize I still haven’t moved until Callum’s voice fills my ears.
“Enjoy the show?”
I blink, my gaze locking with his.
“So that’s your plan?” I ignore his question. “Annika makes out with your friend and you fuck hers?” I curl my nose in disgust.
“You reap what you sew.” He shrugs indifferently.
“What about what you sew?” I counter.
“Pardon?”
“Do you even care about that girl?” I gesture to the street where Sarah’s car was parked moments ago.
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“I care because you’re using her. She clearly really likes you, and you’re playing some sick game to get back at your ex. Did you ever think how unfair that is to her?”
“Remind me again why this is any of your business, P?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, leaning his shoulder against the pillar on his porch.
“Poppy,” I correct him. “Only my friends call me P.”
“And we’re not friends?” A small smile plays on his lips.
“No, we certainly are not.”
With that, I spin around and cross the remaining distance to my front porch, stepping through the door seconds before slamming it closed behind me.