Chapter14: Jealous of English boy?

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Chapter 14

 

 

I’m sweating like a pig.

Mr. Landor is handing our Chemistry test papers. I know you might think that I’m overreacting, but I need to have good grades. I don’t want to disappoint mom and dad.

I can’t let them down again.

 

“Ms. Dixon,” he handed me my paper.

Okay, this is it. Just flip the pa—

“What the?” my test paper was yanked out of my grasp. When I looked beside me, Ian was grinning from ear to ear.

“I see the tutoring paid off,” he turned the paper and I saw a big A+. I smiled with him as I took it out of his hand.

As the bell rang, I bolted out of the classroom. I need to find Daniel.

When I took a sharp turn I collided with a chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” I looked up and saw a face I’ve never seen before.

“Oh, uhm, it’s okay. I wasn’t looking either,” he shook his head. “I’m Brent,” he smiles  and offered me his hand.

“Samantha, but you can call me Sam,” I returned the smile. “So uh, you’re new here?”

“Yeah, I just actually moved here yesterday,”

“Really? Where are you from?”

“Doncaster.”

“Ooh, England. That explains the accent,” I mumbled.

“Yeah. I was actually thinking why you’re not affected by it. Usually, girls would be drooling when I start to say ‘Hi’,” he smirked playfully.

I laughed at him, “Well, you didn’t say ‘Hi’.”

“Hi,” he beamed.

“Oh gosh, I’m melting,” I sighed dramatically as he laughed.

“Guys this is Brent,” I introduced him to Ian, Katie, Evan, and a frowning Daniel as we made our way to the table.

“What’s the matter Danny poo,” I cooed him as I threw a fry at him.

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

Okay, that was weird. Usually he would’ve taken my food and shoved it down his throat.


“So uh Bread, where are you from?” he turned his attention to my English friend coldly.

“It’s Brent man. I’m from Doncaster, UK,” he smiled.

“So, why did you move here in LA?” Daniel questioned.

“Dad got a job here,” Brent shrugged.

“What job?”

“Uh, in the hospital,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What school are you from? How old are you? Do you kn—,”

“Whoa! What’s with the 20 questions Daniel?” I cut him off before he can even ask Brent’s vital statistics.

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