THE REST of my day goes by normally. I worried about spending lunch with Maggie at our Honors Society meeting, but she ended up spending it with Franklin, so I didn’t have to deal with her asking me about my conversation with Fig.
A conversation that’s left me unsettled. It’s like he was trying to communicate with me with unspoken words. Implying one thing while saying something else. I didn’t like his tone. His familiarity. He knows what I’m about.
He knows I’m not interested in boys or drinking or sex. That’s not my scene. It never has been. I’m a good girl.
Those kinds of things…scare me.
When I walk into my seventh period class, the last one of the day, I’m excited. Psychology is my favorite class. I love learning how people act and think, and the motives behind our actions. It’s so interesting. Today is when Ms. Skov announces our last project for the semester, and she usually has us work in groups. There are a couple of girls in this class that I’ve worked on group projects with before, and I know it’ll be easy to work with them again. They’ll at least carry the workload equally with me.
Crew is already there, the only other class I have with him, as well as Ezra and Malcolm. They’re all three sitting together in the back of the classroom, surrounded by girls. Girls who roll their skirts up so high they practically flash their underwear, and they have so much makeup on their faces I’m surprised they can open their eyes all the way. There’s too much mascara on their lashes weighing them down.
I really shouldn’t be so mean in my thoughts. It’s not kind. I blame it on it being a Monday. The tension between Maggie and me—and Maggie and Mr. Figueroa. The conversation with Fig.
It’s all so unsettling.
“Okay, everyone, listen up!” Skov slams the door behind her once she’s entered the room, striding toward her desk. She’s fluid movement and rhythmic noise, the bangles on her wrists clanging as she moves her hands. And she likes to move her hands a lot.
We all settle down, sitting face forward and paying attention. Everyone respects Skov. She’s fun and interesting and makes us excited to learn, which can be a rarity, even at a private school that pays a generous salary to have the best educators on staff.
“As you’re all well aware of, it’s time to begin our final project for the semester. I took the time over Thanksgiving break to really think it over and I came to the conclusion that after doing pretty much the same damn thing for the last eleven years…I’m bored.” Ms. Skov glares when Crew and his clan hoot and holler from the back. “Settle down, boys.”
They go quiet and I can’t help but glance at them over my shoulder, a smirk already on my face. It disappears when I catch Crew glaring at me, those blue eyes freezing me in place.
I hurriedly turn back around, clutching my hands together on top of my desk.
“I decided to change it up. You’re going to work on your project on a one-on-one basis. As in, you’ll be paired up with someone.” She pauses. “And I’m the one who assigns you your project partner.”
A collective groan rings through the room, though I still remain quiet. And a little nervous. Hopefully Skov won’t pair me with someone too horrible.
Nerves eat at me when she starts rattling off names. I realize quickly she’s pairing us up with someone who is our polar opposite. There are more groans. A couple of curse words dropped.
My heart is in my throat when she finally says my name.
“Wren Beaumont, you’re going to work with…”
The pause lasts all of two seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.
“…Crew Lancaster.”
What?
The word actually flies from my lips. I said it out loud, when I didn’t mean to.
Oh God.
“Lucky fucker,” I hear Ezra say, and I close my eyes in shame at the word he just used. I hate it when the boys curse.
And they know it.
Ms. Skov finishes with her list of partners and clears her throat loudly, causing the voices to go quiet. She scans the room as she starts pacing in front of our rows of desks.
“I know this isn’t what you envisioned, but let me tell you what your assignment is. It’ll make more sense when you hear.” She stops in front of my desk, because, of course, I sit in the front row. “I paired you with someone I knew would be the opposite of you. I want you all to interview each other. Study each other carefully, because you’re going to take all of that information you learn and give a speech on why and what makes your project partner tick.”
There are more groans. I sink in my seat, gnawing on my lower lip. There is no way I’m going to tell Crew a single thing about myself. He hates me. Whatever information I give him, he’ll find some way to use it against me eventually.
He’s never done anything like that to me before, so maybe my thoughts are just…extreme.
“Now, of course, you shouldn’t share any intimate, long held secrets you don’t want anyone else to know. I know everyone in this class is mature enough to respect each other’s privacy, but you know how it is. Things will eventually get out,” Skov explains.
Exactly. And there’s no way I want Crew to find out anything about me.
Nothing.
“For some of you, this is going to be hard. But I did some research on this type of project, and many of those involved said they found it almost easier to confess their darkest fears or most secret dreams to someone they consider a complete stranger. Those who know us, tend to judge us.”
I think of what Maggie said to me, and how she thinks I’m too “judgey” sometimes. That kind of hurt. I never mean to be judgmental…
“For the next three weeks, there will be no lectures, no tests and no side projects. From now until winter break, I want you to spend this period with your partner. Get to know them, interview them about their past, ask them questions about their future and what they hope for. What they aspire to be. Try your best to dig below the surface. Be real with each other, gang! Don’t present your picture-perfect Instagram life to someone. We all know that’s a figment of your imagination,” Skov teases.
“No one’s on Instagram much anymore, Ms. Skov,” one of the guys shouts, causing a few chuckles to ripple through the classroom.
She smiles, dipping her head in acknowledgement. “I’m an old person, what can I say? I can’t keep up with what social media you kids are on.”
There’s more joking and laughter, but I can’t focus. I just want to disappear. Drop out of the class.
Maybe even drop out of Lancaster Prep.
God, see? I can’t get away from him. Thinking about my school makes me think of him because of the name.
“All right everyone! Break up into your pairs. Do it quickly. I don’t want a lot of chatter going on, unless you’re talking to your partner.” She smiles, looking quite pleased with herself as she goes and settles in behind her desk.
I rise to my feet, ignoring everyone else as I make my way to her desk. I stop just in front of it, staring at her until she finally looks up, her expression calm. “Can I help you, Wren?”
I can see it in her eyes, that flicker of disappointment before I even open my mouth. She knows what I’m going to say. “I was wondering if you’d be open to me switching partners.”
Skov sighs, resting her arms on top of her desk. “I knew I’d have at least one of you come to me and ask this. Didn’t expect it to be you.”
“I don’t like him.” Best to be open and honest, right?
She arches a brow at my bold statement. “You don’t even know him.”
“How do you know?” Oh, that sounded snotty, and that’s the last thing I want to be toward a teacher.
“I’ve been at this school a long time. I know the students don’t think we pay attention, but we do. I see a lot. And I know for a fact you and Crew don’t speak. Ever. Which is funny because the two of you are actually quite similar.”
What in the world is she talking about? We aren’t similar. Not even close.
“No, we’re really not,” I tell her. “We have nothing in common, and he’s always so…mean to me.”
“How is he mean toward you?”
My mind draws a complete blank. I hate it when people ask for examples because most of the time, I can’t provide them. “He gives me dirty looks.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
Now she’s making me doubt every horrible look Crew has ever given me. “I don’t know.”
Her smile is small. “That’s what I thought. First, you have to get to know someone in order to understand how they feel about you. Don’t you think?”
“I already know that he doesn’t like me,” I say with all the finality I can muster. “It would be a lot easier for all of us if I could do this project with someone else. Maybe Sam?”
Sam is sweet. I don’t have a lot of guy friends, but he’s one of them, and he’s always been kind to me. We’ve had the same honors classes together since our freshman year, and he even took me to the prom last year, though just as friends. He knows where I stand when it comes to relationships and sex, and he’s never tried to push himself on me.
He hasn’t even tried to kiss me, and with Sam, I would’ve considered it. I still might.
I glance over to where he usually sits, one of the girls with a too short skirt on sitting next to him, a little scowl on her face as Sam tries to talk to her.
“I’m sure he’d want to switch to be partnered with me,” I tell Skov as I watch Sam smile at that girl, hoping to warm her up. Her name is Natalie.
She’s not very nice. I avoid her and her friend group at all costs.
“I’m sure he would.” Ms. Skov sounds amused, which I find faintly annoying.
This isn’t a laughing matter. This is the next three weeks of my life. The most intense time at school—nearing the most important finals week of my senior year. The one that counts the most. Daddy reassures me our family money can get me into any college I want, but I also prefer to get in to one of my dream schools on my own merit.
My family name makes that nearly impossible, but we’ll see what happens.
“So you’ll let us switch then? I bet Natalie would love to do this project with Crew.” I think they were together at some point over the last couple of years. At the very least, they hooked up.
Ew.
“No, I’m not going to let you switch. The whole point of this project is to learn about someone who isn’t like you, who is part of a different friend group. You and Sam went to prom together last year so that means he’s out as a possible partner,” Ms. Skov says.
Everything inside me withers and dies. “It’ll just be easier. I’m comfortable with Sam, and Crew makes me…uneasy.”
“In a threatening way?” The concern in her voice is very, very real.
Maybe this is the weak spot, where I can burrow my way into getting what I want. “Yes, he always has such a horrible look on his face.”
“So he’s never actually threatened you in any way?”
This is where my honesty gets me. “No. Not really.”
His mere existence feels like a threat, but I can’t tell her that. I sound like a horrible person for thinking such a thing, let alone managing to say it out loud.
“I think you need a challenge, Wren. You’re always wanting to help people.”
“Girls,” I stress. “What do any of the boys have to worry about at this school?” I’m not condoning it, just stating facts. “They’re all golden. Untouchable. They can do whatever they want, especially the one whose name is everywhere we look.”
My skin grows prickly with awareness when I sense someone approaching. I can feel his warmth, smell his deliciously intoxicating scent, and I know.
I just know who it is.
“Is there a problem?” Crew asks, his deep, rumbly voice touching something foreign inside of me.
I brace myself for Skov to tell on me.
“Miss Beaumont had a few questions on the project. Right, Miss Beaumont?” Ms. Skov smiles broadly at the both of us.
I nod, keeping my head down. I can feel his gaze burning my skin as he watches me, and I’m worried if I look into his eyes, I’ll turn to stone. Like he’s freaking Medusa with a bunch of coiled snakes as hair.
“You two should go sit down and get started,” Skov encourages.
“Okay,” I croak, daring to look in Crew’s direction.
To find him already watching me, the look on his handsome face so dark, my knees nearly buckle.
