Chapter 2: Take My Money

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"I-I have the money," I concur him as I hold out the cash.

"Is that bacon?" he asks with furrowed brows. His eyes are locked on the napkin in my other hand.

"Yeah, want some?" I offer as I hold it out as well.

He shakes his head and I shrug, retracting my bacon-filled hand. "And I don't want the money," he tells me bluntly as he slams his locker.

"But I searched through my boxes for an hour for this," I grumble unhappily. I know what you're thinking- take the money and walk away. If he doesn't want it, be grateful. You're ten dollars richer (or maybe just not ten dollars short). But I can't help but feel like I owe him. He gave me a ride home even though I couldn't even provide him with an address until forty five minutes into town exploring.

"That's not my problem," he informs me. Without a second glance at me, he walks away with his hands tucked in his pockets. I glare at his back, fold up the money, and shove it into the slits of his locker. I, Olivia Ortega, refuse to owe anyone anything. I walk towards the bathroom and enter, listening as the bell rings, signifying that the day has just begun.

+ + +

It takes me a minute to realize that I have five of eight classes with Maddox. And it wasn't until American Literature, which is directly after lunch, that he comes up to me and places the money on my desk angrily. I shove it back towards him, lifting it when he doesn't accept it. "Take it," I demand.

"No," he states as he stands on the other side of my table, refusing to take the money. I keep my hand extended towards him.

"Take it," I repeat as I examine his face; his defined jaw is clenched and his long eyelashes create shadows on his cheeks in the bright lighting of the classroom. The green of his eyes is flashing as he blinks impatiently, trying to shrug off my attempts to give him the money. His pale, pink lips are set in a line as he represses the urge to, most likely, swear at me and call me names. I push the money towards him again, cutting off his path to the back of the class.

"Maddox, have a seat," Mr. Harvey announces with a fleck of impatience in his tone. Maddox looks around and grits his teeth when he notices that the seat beside me is the only available chair. Everyone's eyes are on us as they wait to see what he'll do. He grumpily drops in the only open seat, giving me a glare when he realizes that this is the third time I've embarrassed him in a two day span. He shoves my hand away and I tuck the money into my pocket with a plan of slipping it into his bag once the bell rings.

Maddox ignores me the entire class period. Even when I attempted to ask him for help on a question, he disregards me. The teacher didn't explain it to me well enough and I didn't want to ask again, so I just shut up and pretended I knew what I was doing. In my old school, we didn't get this far into this lesson. In fact, we barely got into the lesson before this one. Was my old school behind or is this school ahead?

Maddox also ignores me when I ask him what time class ends. And I know he heard me. I mean, he made eye contact with me for a few seconds before he looked away. And the moment the bell rang, he jumped from his seat and dove out of the classroom, not bothering to retrieve the homework on the way out.

+ + +

In my Pre-Calculus class, which I have absolutely no friends in, I'm surprised when two girls take the seats beside me. I just assume that there's a shortage of seats until they introduce themselves to me. I recognize them; they'e two of the people who followed Maddox out of the cafeteria when I attacked him with my lunch.

"I'm Cassidy," the redhead introduces herself.  She has several piercings on her ears, a lip piercing, and an eyebrow piercing. I smile at her and nod, still confused as to why she's talking to me.

Forever and Always, OliveWhere stories live. Discover now