To Love Him | ✔

004

Chapter 4

Sammy Walcott

All day today practically the whole school has been buzzing about the new student. The celebrity they were all gathered around at the parking lot.

From what my ear had gathered, he really was a celebrity. Maybe a model or an actor. Some students can swear they've seen him on television. Most probably bullshit, like most highschool stories were. They were just being over dramatic over a new guy that good looking and rich. If he has an accent, that'll help him fuel his good celebrity rumors more.

"Unfortunately we can't use the class anymore," I said opening the library door and walking into the books fortress.

"Good day Alicia." Wilson greeted the librarian trailing behind me. I looked behind taking notice of the little lady sat on the chair. I'll acknowledge her some other time, hopefully.

"Yea, it's too noisy in there. Everyone is talking about the Gracia senior."

I chose a seat at the end corner of the library, dropping my bag beside me and stretching my legs out front. "This happens to be a good place."

Wilson nodded taking a seat in front of me. "Do you know anything about the new senior?"

I shrugged opening up my bag to take out my old notes, "I've never ever heard of him."

"They say he once lived in town before going up to the Appalachians." Wilson relayed over, using up the curiosity I hoped he would apply in our tutor session towards maths.

"Yeah?" I flipped through the notes, taking notice of a stained page, I hope nothing valuable is lost. I have a bad habit of reading and eating.

"Yeah they also say he's loaded with money and drives a Ferrari." Wilson spewed, a crooked smile on his freakle dusted face.

"That must be great." I say grabbing his book and flipping through, I need to know what he's been up to regarding academics.

"Yeah I envy him, girls are gonna be fighting over him. Imagine, three or five hot girls coming at one dude. He's gonna have the time of his life. Fortunate soul."

I finally looked up at him, raising an amused brow. "You best not be fantasizing of an orgy in front of me."

He's face burned red at my comment and as he looked down, I smiled, "Keep your willy in check, Willy."

He slapped a hand over his face to cover up all the redness, "Not cool senior, not cool."

I frowned shutting the book, my frown looking more serious than I felt. "Senior? I'm barely three years older than you, not twenty. Call you not call me senior?"

He gulped, then grinned reaching out to give my shoulder a friendly pat. "Sure thing Sammy."

My eyes snapped to my shoulder where he pat and slowly (for effect) to his face, then back to my shoulder and his face again. He gulped realizing that he might have just dug his grave by touching me. "Um, sen— Sammy? Sorry, I didn't mean to"

"Didn't mean to? So your arm has a mind of his own now?" I asked amused at the situation, he looked shit scared. Any other situation with any other person would be funny but this was Wilson, I've known him his entire life and try as I might, I can't be new Sammy around him. It was always funny that he took me so seriously though.

"Uh, it's— I—"

I burst out laughing taking him by surprise.  He sighed wiping off a sheen of sweat. "Not cool Sammy."

"Shut up runt, I didn't say you're off the hook." I pushed the open textbook to him, "page seventy two, finish up and wake me when you hit a bump."

His eyes widened as he took in the hundred questions there. "Everything?"

"Everything and be fast about it, you only have until the bell goes off. I've got practice right after," I said placing my bag on the table as a make believe pillow. "Cool?"

He sniffles— an act aimed to get mercy—  pulling out his pen, "Yes boss."

I smiled, resting my head on my bag in preparation of a sound, hopefully quick nap. Wilson Wong is the practically the only person I interact with in this entire school. He's an adorable kid with quite a habit of talking. His Mom works in the grocery store and she's unfortunately likes me like a second son.

She's the only person that forces me to talk and smile. With her Chinese temper, I find myself obeying her most of the time. Wilson is her only son and a playful one too. The moment he was entering highschool, Mrs Wong pleaded with me to take him under my wing. That means keeping an eye on him, tutoring him, protecting him and being his freaking fairy God father. Everybody knows Wilson is my Godson and only the foolish messes with him.

I don't tutor students, I might be brilliant and excellent but tutoring means putting up with crappy humans, even the teachers know I won't do it. Not unless there's some kind of reward for me —a reward other than 'extra credits'. I can get that on my own. Mrs Wong knows this and although I was ready to change just for her, she insisted on paying me. Generously even.

So Wilson is practically my favorite human. We're both benefiting greatly from our tutor student relationship.

The bell went off sooner than expected and I had to wait to mark and correct Wilson's work. By the time we left the library, the school was almost empty. I waved Wilson goodbye and headed out to the locker room. I was already late for practice.

I changed into my sports wear and walked out. The weather was better today, I could see the sun. Some boys in the team were gathered around somebody, probably the new student. What did Wilson call him again? I craned my neck to see him. A hint of curiosity coming over me.

"Walcott," Coach called, I immediately abandoned my mission to see the new student and turned to the coach, just in time to see a ball heading towards my face.

My hand shot out, catching it with ease. I raised a brow at the Coach, silently asking if he plans on giving me another bruise.

"Good, I knew you'd catch it. You're late," When I didn't say anything to that, he continued, "you're taking the goal post today."

I nodded picking up the long stick and a helmet. While putting on the helmet and trying to still maintain a grip on the ball, the ball fell off my hands, rolling away. I sighed dropping the helmet down and going after the ball. Vans shoes appeared in front and a hand reached down to pick the ball before I could.

"I think you dropped something." An eerily familiar voice said.

I stood up with a frown, ready to ask the person if he expected a thanks from me. However my frown was washed right off as I took note of the person standing in front of me with a smile and the ball in his big palm.

Those brown eyes, that lopsided smile, the tiny mole on his right cheek.

"Sammy, right?"

Unbelievable.

-------