Hell to the No

Confrontation

After an entire period of ignoring Kait's subtle whining and pleading for my answers on the English final during first period, the economics final during second, and the French final during third, I am relieved to sink into my seat in the back of my fourth period study hall. My only Kait-less class. As much as I love her to death, she can be quite annoying in her persistence to cheat on tests.

I sigh deeply as I pull out my physics notebook. Today has turned out to be one of those blaaaaaah days, where I didn't feel like putting any effort whatsoever into anything, and I constantly felt like I was tired. Not very convenient when I have finals to study for. The thought of ripping the notebook in half down its binding and laying my face on the desk is extremely tantalizing, but my brain keeps nagging me about the importance of studying. Just a few more days. My best efforts will pay off, and I can sleep for three straight days if I want to once school is out. I can't crap out now.

The late bell rings as I began to focus on the definitions of static and kinetic friction, and I picture my brain giving me a sympathetic pat. As difficult as it was, once I really put my mind to it, I'm pretty good at buckling down. And I kind of pride myself on that.

The study hall monitor calls off her daily lines of "who has a pass to go elsewhere," and "who wants to go to the library." I enjoy the fact that most kids in this class take the opportunity to screw off in the library, which leaves this room nearly unpopulated, and completely silent. Better for studying. Or reading.

... Or sleeping.

I look up from my notes as a guy sits down at the desk in front of me, and swivels my way.

"Nice hair," the blond says. I snort in thanks as I rake my hand once through the bright pink tresses and wrinkle my nose.

"Whaaaat?" he croons with a smile. "You don't like it?"

"It's... bright," I tell him with a laugh as I shrug. His light brown eyes get squinty when his mouth stretches into a smile, but not in a bad way. I know his name is Sage, and I know he is one of Roman's really good friends. I don't know much else about him, other than that he lives with foster parents.

"It's drastic. I think it's cool," Sage chuckles.

"Well thanks," I grin, twisting the end of a straight lock. He flashes me another smile before his skinny frame twists back around. I return to my work, pausing to glance up at Sage's back. He's lean, and average-height string bean. The muscles on his back had nothin' on Roman's, and the same went for his lean-but-on-the-skinny-side arms. I have never had an actual conversation with this kid.

As I return my attention back to my physics, Sage twists back around.

"Oh, and you stole my partner," he jokes, his eyes two smiling slits.

"Roman?" I snort, my brows shooting up. "Oh please, take him," I smirk with a wave of my hand. My chest fills with a strange feeling as the conversation shifts to Roman. At the same time, my stomach twists slightly with guilt at the memory of our last encounter.

"Yep," Sage says, "It would've worked out perfectly, since both our families are away all summer together." The smile on my face falls slowly as I blink at him.

"What?" I ask, my brow lowering in concern. "He's not going to be around this summer?" Sage shakes his head no with a shrug.

"Almost every summer his Mom and my parents vacation upstate in the mountains at the camp they both own," he says apologetically. I sit back in my seat, thoroughly surprised.

"Holy shit, he's going to ditch on our project. I'm going to end up doing the entire thing alone," I surmise in agitation. Sage shrugs.

"You'll have to take it up with him." I nod as I concentrate on composing myself.

"Thanks Sage. I will." He turns back in his chair and lays his head down to get some shut eye like usual.

I end up fuming for the remainder of the study hall, and I snap my physics notebook shut in annoyance before glaring at the face of the clock above the door. After the rest of the class trickles in from being sent back from the library, the bell finally rings, and I am the first one out the door. Deciding to be late for chorus, I head in the opposite direction of the choir room and toward the wing of the school that Roman's locker is located. Spotting him from across the crowded hall, I make a beeline for him, my anger overshadowing the uneasy guilt in my stomach.

"You're not going to be available this summer to work on our project?" I hiss up at him the moment I stop right beside him against the wall of lockers. His initial reaction is surprise, but it quickly melts away. His face is a blank slate when he looks down at me with hard, smoky eyes.

"I will be away, but we'll figure out a way to work together," he says. I scowl up at him, my gut and my heart twisting in agony as a small part of me that lies in the deep, deep recesses of my being cry out like a small child at the notion of not actually getting to work and be with Roman all summer. I try not to let that startling part of me control my emotion.

"Do not think for a second that I am going to pull your weight," I snap, hating how thin my voice sounds when I raise it above the loud din of the busy hallway. Roman just stares down at me, both his expression and his gaze unwavering.

"Not for a second." Hurt anger burns at my chest at the frost in his tone. The usual, flirtatious Roman is gone. The attitude that I hated and secretly ate up at the same time was replaced by stone-cold disregard. The notion of apologizing for everything floats briefly across my thoughts, but my pride gets the better of me. I return his look, a fire behind my eyes.

"Make sure," I spit, my voice dropping to a threatening level. I turn on my heel and leave with the last word, my heart crying and shuddering as my anger and pride force me to just walk away, come off as the strong one. I hate what I've turned this tentative friendship into. But I'm irrational when I'm upset, and I could give two shits about anything I say or do. I'd regret it later, but right now, I focus on burying all negative feelings and stalking off to chorus as the late bell rings.