"Oh my God! What happened to your eye?!" Lia yelled.
Students turned to look. I pulled my hood lower over my face and dragged my best friend to the closest restroom. "Geez, can you say it any louder? I think people in the next state haven't heard you."
As soon as we were inside the restroom, she grabbed my shoulders and stuck her face in front of mine. "You have a black eye. Oh my God, who hit you? Did you hit him back? Were you in a fight? Don't tell me you were in a fight. Spill!"
I opened my mouth, when one of stalls opened and Liza came out. She frowned, looking between me and Lia. She must've heard Lia's dramatics. Then her eyes widened when she saw my eye. "Oh my God, you have a black eye! What happened to you? Are you okay?"
I groaned and dropped my hood. No use hiding it anymore. "I got punched-"
"What?!"
"Who?!"
"Girls!" I said. "Stop talking and listen!"
They snapped their mouths shut. Much better.
"In the gym, while boxing, a guy punched me when we were sparring. It wasn't intentional," I said, though I was ninety percent sure Aaron had done it on purpose. Steve had clearly called for us to stop, and I had clearly lowered my arms and stepped back from the fight, yet he still threw a punch. Make that one hundred percent. He definitely did it on purpose, that wimp.
"Why aren't you wearing sunglasses?" Liza asked, pushing a red lock behind her ear. "You know you'll have to tell the story a hundred times today."
"I'll have to tell it even if I wear sunglasses," I said. "It'd be pretty clear I was hiding something. But, I did come wearing sunglasses, and Mrs. Crawford was happy to remind me they're not allowed indoors."
"What shouldn't be allowed is the sweater she's wearing," Liza said. "That thing smells like it was dug up from a hundred-year-old attic."
I wrinkled my nose, remembering the smell that hit me when I was talking to Mrs. Crawford. "Yeah, you have a point."
We walked out of the restroom and joined the waves of students moving to class. Liza went to her class while Lia and I went to ours. We had the same first class this morning.
"Was it Aaron?" Lia asked once we were in the classroom, sitting side by side.
"Yep," I said, opening my backpack. I told her about the fight.
"That asshole."
"Mhm."
"Does Sam know?"
I sighed. "Steve called him when he took me to the hospital."
"You had to go to the hospital!" She said.
"Lower your voice," I hissed, pulling my hood down over my face. The classroom was filling in. "Yes. Steve insisted I go because he thought I might have a concussion, which I didn't. Anyway, he called Sam then and there and apologized even though it was my fault. Sam was ready to drive down here but I managed to convince him to stay put."
My older brother, Sam, was our legal guardian. He worked in a city three hour drive away from our town. He usually visited in the weekends or whenever he wasn't busy.
After our grandmother passed away, he became our legal guardian since he was a working adult by then. I hated disappointing him or causing him unnecessary worry, and I had done both yesterday. He only said he was glad I wasn't badly hurt, but I knew from the tone of his voice. I was usually the level-headed sibling. Scott was too impulsive and irresponsible, and Stefan was too stubborn. So Sam counted on me to keep both my brothers in line.
"I can't believe that prick," Lia grumbled.
"Don't worry. Scott paid him a visit yesterday," I told her.
Lia's eyes widened. "Really. Did he punch him? Please tell me he punched him."
I shrugged. "I don't know. He didn't say."
"What about Stefan?"
"What about him?"
"What did he do?"
I frowned. "Nothing. Don't you know Stefan?"
"Yeah. He doesn't do things that can't rationally be justified," she grumbled. "What a wuss."
"Hey!" I laughed and slapped her arm. "That's my brother. He's just less impulsive than Scott. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about me."
"I know, I know," Lia said. Her animosity with Stefan had been going strong since kindergarten. They just didn't grow out of it.
I sighed, opening my notebook. "Calculus sucks," I said.
Lia patted my hand. "That's a universal truth."
"Oh, Shut up," I said, glaring at her. "You're good at it."
She rolled her eyes. "No. I'm good enough. And that doesn't mean I enjoy it."
Students trickled in en masse, their chatter subdued. Very few people enjoyed Calculus, it seemed.
Mr. Barcroft entered, his messenger bag swinging. He dropped his bag on the desk and scanned the ranks of his less-than enthusiastic students. He was one of the youngest teachers in our school. Unless someone really pissed him off, he was pretty laid back, which made him a favorite among the students.
"Alright settle down, everyone," he said. "I see you're all very excited for this class first thing in the morning."
"It sucks!" One of the guys in the corner said.
Mr. Barcroft grinned, his white teeth standing out against his tan skin. "I hope you mean the timing sucks, and not me."
We laughed. I instantly felt more awake. I still didn't like Calculus, but Mr. Barcroft has a way of making it palatable.
"You're fine, Mr. Barcroft!" the guy said.
"Thank you, but I'm married," the teacher said, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses.
"I didn't mean it that way," the guy in the back groaned, but laughter drowned out his complaint.
As laughter died down, Mr. Barcroft opened his laptop and uncapped a marker. "Alright, children, settle down," he said, pitching his voice low. Class was beginning, and everyone settled down.
It was ten minutes into the class when the door opened. Everyone looked.
Jamison walked in.
Students broke into whispers. Mr. Barcroft fully turned to face him. "Good of you to finally join us. And you are...?"
"Hunter Jamison," he said, his voice was deep and low. It was the first time I heard him speak. I had the distinct impression that if a wolf talked, it would sound just like him.
"Mr. Jamison..." Mr. Barcroft said, checking the list on his desk. "Ah, yes. Why don't you take a seat. You and I will have a little chat after class."
Jamison looked around the class.
"Right behind Sapphire," Mr. Barcroft said.
Jamison looked right at me. How did he know my name? His long legs ate the distance between him and the seat. My neck prickled.
The teacher resumed his class, but my attention was now split in two, which was exactly what I did not need considering my horrible track in maths.
"Applying the last formula, who's going to solve this little question here?" The teacher said.
Crap. What the heck was he talking about? I blinked at the symbols on the white board, but they didn't ring any bells.
"Come on, guys. It's a direct application," the teacher said.
I looked down at my notebook, avoiding the teacher's eyes. Fortunately, Lia was paying enough attention for both of us. She raised her hand.
Phew! Saved by my best friend. I really needed to get my shit together. I sat up straighter and forced my attention to the white board. Focus!
*** **** ***
By the time lunch rolled around, I had told the story of my black eye so many times, I was ready to write it on my forehead so people would stop asking.
So when I walked into the cafeteria and spotted Lia sitting with her boyfriend and a few of his friends, I cursed and made my way to the outdoor eating area. I didn't like Lia's boyfriend much, and that was an understatement. I thought she was too good for him. That sounded pretentious, but I couldn't help it. And Tom knew I didn't like him, so he would be trying to make a dig at me with my black eye, and I wasn't in the mood to hear him running his big mouth.
Lia could be pissed at me, but she'd understand.
Outside, almost all the bench tables were occupied. I lowered my head, the hood shading my face, and walked along the wall to the side where a couple of tables were tucked away between the trees. There was a couple sitting side by side on one table, their heads close together as they talked, their eyes all lovey-dovey.
The other table was occupied by one person. Jamison.
I only hesitated a second before walking past the couple and sitting across from him. He was leaning against the tree behind him, one long leg stretched along the bench, his eyes on his phone. A tray of food was on the table, empty except for crumbs.
As soon as my butt hit the bench, his eyes slowly, very slowly, looked up. He blinked. I could tell he was surprised when he realized it was me. Or maybe he was just shocked someone dared sit at the same table as him.
I popped a fry in my mouth and smiled. "You don't mind, do you?"
He blinked. Then looked back down to his phone. Rude. I ate my lunch, enjoying the peace. No questions, no exclamations about my black eye, no worried looks that Stefan and Scott were beating me up at home.
A soft breeze blew, rustling the leaves overhead. I dropped my hood and took a deep breath. Ah. Peace.
"Who hit you?"
Spoke too soon. Jamison was still looking down at his phone. How very rude. I popped a chicken nugget in my mouth and stared at him. He glanced up and quirked a brow. I quirked one right back. "If you want to have a conversation, it's polite to put down the phone."
He glanced down at his phone, then he put it face down on the table and sat properly, facing me, his arms crossed over the table. He fixed his gaze on me. Wow. Those eyes were intense. Maybe I shouldn't have asked for his full attention. I cleared my throat.
"I go to a boxing gym. And there was a little accident while I was sparring with a guy," I said the words I'd said a hundred times this morning.
"How does the other guy look?" He asked.
I laughed. He didn't. He was completely serious. I took a swig of my chocolate milk. "I didn't get the chance to lay hands on him because the fight was already called off, so he should be fine," I said. "But Scott paid him a visit yesterday, so I guess he's not really fine."
He stared at my left eye. I waved a hand in front of my face. "Stop looking, would you? I escaped here specifically to avoid all the looks and the questions."
He leaned back against the tree and stretched his legs on the bench. His knuckles were still abraded.
"Why did you fight that guy yesterday?" I asked. He was being chatty, so I took advantage of it. I wanted to know more about him; a guy who beat up others but took care of a lonely kitten on his own.
"Because I felt like it."
I snorted, and the milk almost came out of my nose. "Uh-huh," I said. "And why did you feel like it?"
Jamison's brows furrowed; a tiny grove between his eyebrows. "Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I just like beating up people for fun."
I cocked my head to the side. "Nah," I said. "You just don't want to tell me why."
He shrugged, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Believe what you want."
So he didn't want to say why. Usually, people would try to give a reason, a justification, to what they did wrong. Jamison either didn't really care what people thought of him, or he just didn't expect them to care about his reasons. Considering what Lia told me about him, the latter was as likely as the former.
"So you're coming to school like nothing happened?" I asked, cleaning up the last fry off my tray. "You weren't even suspended?"
"I got detention," he said.
"We both know what you did should get you suspended for at least a week," I said. "But you get detention? How come?"
"Anyone tell you you're nosy?" he said without opening his eyes or moving.
"All the time," I said. "So, how come?"
His lips might have twitched up. He turned his head away. What a bummer. Just when I thought he was being chatty. I guess he really didn't want to talk then. I picked up my tray.
"My father is a benefactor of the school," he said. I put down my tray. "He gives them enough money to keep me here."
Aha. I didn't like his father much. The bell rang. I shot to my feet and picked up my tray. Jamison didn't move. I moved out of the bench and nudged his foot, dangling off the bench, with my knee. "Wake up, the bell rang."
He opened his eyes and blinked lazily at me for several long seconds. Did I have something on my face? I wanted to put down the tray and check, instead I raised my brow. He swung his long legs, picked up his tray and backpack and stood up. I glanced at him. He really was tall.
We walked side by side to the tray disposal area, then into the school. I pulled a bag of pretzels from my backpack, opened it and popped one in my mouth.
"Pretzel?" I offered to Jamison.
He shook his head.
"So what do you have next?"
"Art," he said. "I think."
I chuckled. "You think?"
He glanced at me, and his lips definitely twitched up this time. He shrugged.
"The kitten..." he said.
"The kitten is living her best life," I told him. "She's in a foster home until she's old enough to be adopted, which shouldn't be long. Do you want her?"
He shook his head almost immediately. "I can't."
He couldn't. Not he didn't want to. He couldn't. Maybe someone in his family was allergic.
We were walking down the hallway. Students either rushed to class or dragged their feet. There was no in between. Lia was standing with her boyfriend, leaning against the wall. I groaned and pulled up my hood. Hopefully he wouldn't recognize me. We were right by them.
"Hey, Sapphire!"
Damn it. I forced a smile and turned to look at them. Lia's wide eyes fixed on Jamison. She would grill me about him later, I just knew.
"Whoa, what happened to your face?" Tom The Jerk asked, a smile in his face.
"I got punched," I said with a sweet smile. "I'm sure you know what that feels like."
A muscle jerked in his cheek. He chuckled. "Oh, I always knew Stefan was the violent type."
My smile died down. Lia shot her boyfriend a disapproving look. "Tom," she warned.
He smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek. "Just kidding, babe," he said.
He glanced at Jamison next to me then back at me. "You should be more careful or you might get punched again."
My fist twitched, eager to meet his smug face. The asshole. Lia pursed her lips. "Tom-"
"We'll see you later!" Tom said, pulling Lia along with him. I could already tell she was nagging him. Not that it would do any good.
"Prick," I mumbled.
Jamison was looking at Tom with a small frown. "Is he her boyfriend?"
"Yeah," I said. I didn't like the look on his face. "Why?"
"Nothing," he said and walked ahead of me.
I dodged a couple of girls and caught up to him. "Wait, why did you ask?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing," I said. "What? Do you have a crush on Lia or something?"
He rolled his eyes.
"So if it's not that, then why?" I asked. He kept walking. I hurried ahead and stood in front of him. "Why?"
He just sidestepped me and moved on. I trailed after him. "Jamison, what do you know? Why did you ask about them? Jamison!"
"I don't know anything. Forget about it," he said. Oh, no. he definitely knew something.
I poked his back. "No. tell me."
I poked his back again. Poke. Poke. He scowled at me. "Stop."
"No. Tell me."
He blew out a breath. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"Nope," I said. If it had something to do with Lia, I would annoy the heck out of him until he spilled.
He stopped walking and moved to the side, out of the students' way. I moved with him.
"When did they start dating?" he asked.
"Last year."
He sighed. "I think I saw someone who looks like him in a party a few days ago."
I narrowed my eyes, feeling a trickle of unease. "You saw him with someone else?"
He nodded. I squeezed the bag of pretzels and turned. "That prick!"
"Wait," Jamison said, pulling on my arm. His grip was surprisingly gentle. He let go as soon as I stopped. "I'm not sure. Don't go jumping to conclusions. It could be someone who looks like him."
He was right. As much as I wanted to smash the bastard's perfect nose, he was right. It could be just someone who looked like him. But what if it wasn't.
I dug my hand in the bag and shoved a few pretzels in my mouth. Ugh, I hated this. What should I do?
"Sapph?"
I looked over my shoulder at Stefan. He was walking our way, his eyes on Jamison. He stood next to me, closer than usual. "How's your eye?" he asked.
"Fine," I mumbled, distracted. I turned to Jamison. "Where was that party? Do you know if there's going to be another one there?"
"What party?" Stefan asked.
"I'll tell you later," I told my brother.
"I don't know," Jamison replied to my question. "I can find out if you want-"
"Yes!" I held out my palm. "Give me your phone."
He hesitated, then pulled out his phone and put it in my palm. It wasn't even locked. I called my phone from his, feeling mine vibrate in my pocket, then saved my number in his phone as 'Sapphire the Nosy.'
"Here," I gave him his phone back, glancing down the hall where the teacher just walked into my class. "Let me know. Thanks!"
I jogged away, Stefan walking next to me with his long legs. "What's that about?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Since when do you know the guy?"
Gosh, he was stubborn. "I'll tell you later!" I said and slipped into class right before the teacher closed the door. Made it.
*** **** ***
Stefan waited for me sitting on the hood of Lia's car when school ended. He usually just went home ahead of me since Lia would drop me off.
"Hey, get your heavy ass off my car," Lia said, scowling at Stefan.
He rolled his eyes and straightened up. "Since when do you know Jamison?" Stefan asked, right to the point. My brother was so stubborn it wasn't even funny.
Lia turned to me as well. "Yeah, since when are you two so chummy?"
Right. Now they got along. "I sat with him at lunch."
"What?!" Lia said. Stefan winced and covered the ear closest to Lia. "Why? How? Spill!"
"Because I didn't want to sit with your jerk face boyfriend at lunch," I said.
"So sitting with him is better than sitting with my boyfriend and me?"
My reply was immediate. "Yes."
She actually looked hurt. I pinched her cheek and laughed. "You're acting like the guy is the Grinch," I said.
"Well, he's not far off," she mumbled.
"Lia..." I shook my head.
"What were you talking about when I stopped by," Stefan said. "About a part-"
I jumped and pulled at my brother's arm. "Why don't I drive us home, today, Stef? I'm banned from the gym for a week," I said, smiling brightly at Lia. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Lia frowned. She knew something was up, but I escaped before she could interrogate me about it. I would just find a way to distract her tomorrow. Fortunately for me, she was easily distracted. Unlike Stefan.
"What party were you talking about?" He asked as soon as I closed the car door.
I shoved the bag of pretzels into my bag and threw it in the back seat. I started the car. "I'll tell you, but keep it a secret."
He nodded. I guided the car slowly out of the crowded parking lot.
"Jamison saw Tom in a party a few days ago," I said. "Apparently, he was with another girl."
Stefan sucked in a sharp breath. He ground his teeth, his jaws clenched. "Is he sure?"
"He's not sure," I said. "But I think he just said that so I don't go after Tom. Anyway, I told him to let me know if there's another party at the same place or if he sees something else."
The car sailed more smoothly the farther we got away from school. Stefan glared at the road ahead. He was stewing on something, so I left him to his thoughts.
When we reached our street, Stefan said, "don't go up the driveway."
"Are you going somewhere?" I asked, parking the car on the road in front of our house.
"Somewhere," he said.
I rolled my eyes and hopped out. Boys.
Once home, I plopped down on the couch and looked at the ceiling. My heart felt heavy. Lia was going to be heartbroken if Jamison was right. I really hoped he wasn't. But there was a good chance he was. I never liked Tom specifically for that reason. Before going out with Lia, he was flirting with everything in a skirt. Of course, it stopped once they were official. At least, it stopped in our school. Who knew what the prick was doing outside?
She really liked him, though I had no idea why. But even I had to admit, he treated her like a princess. And maybe that was because he felt guilty about cheating on her. The jerk.
"Poor Lia."
--- ---- ---
Poor Lia!
Would you tell your friend if you were in Sapphire's position? or would you wait until you're sure the boyfriend is cheating? Let me know in the comments!
Also, don't forget to vote ;)
Much love <3 <3 <3
M.B.