Page 35 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
He presented himself at Mr. Barron’s desk waving a sheet of paper in his hand. My ears switched to high alert.
“What’s this?” Mr. Barron asked.
“My essay. Respect for theenvironment.”
“You weren’t in class,” Mr. Barron said in a sterner than usual voice.
“I know, sir. Coach Cairns needed me to move equipment, sir.” I quietly placed my books into my backpack, not wanting to miss a word of this riveting exchange.
“I’ll need a pass,” Mr. Barron said.
Mitchell patted the back of his jeans pockets. “Sir, I lost it. Mrs. Doi gave me one, I swear.” He made a show of searching his hoodie pockets and his backpack, fake if you ask me. “It’s not here, sir, must’ve dropped it.” Mr. Barron heaved a sigh as if he’d heard it all before. “My essay, sir.” He put it down on the desk saying, “There’s a pre-season game next week. Will you be there, sir?”
And just like that Mitchell got away with skipping class, varsity basketball to the rescue. He saw me then, as he was giving Mr. Barron details on the game against Gainsville High, and my heart rate skyrocketed. He looked away and abruptly ended his conversation, backing out of the room. I swung my bag over my shoulder and scurried after him.
He was striding down the hallway in the opposite direction to where I needed to go, but I broke into a jog and called his name.
He stopped suddenly, turning his neck to stare daggers at me. He certainly had that look perfected. I wondered if this was one big mistake—he’d been so nice to me less than twenty four hours ago.
“Hey,” I said, forgetting the lines I’d been rehearsing over and over in my mind. “Uh, you know how I was told I need to get stronger, uh...I wondered if you’d help me with more plyo-”—for some reason the word completely escaped me— “ply...more jumping exercises?”
“Yeah-” and my heart momentarily surged, until he added, “about that, you should really ask your coach. She’ll be able to help you out.”
“Oh...yeah, of course,” I mumbled, a sense of disappointment crushing me. “Yeah, I will.”
He was already moving away, and I had only a second to muster up some courage. “Mitchell?”
“I’ve got a class to get to Dent,” he said, not hiding his irritation.
“Mitchell,” I lowered my voice to barely audible, “about yesterday...” My eyes dropped to his torso, “If you-”
Mitchell’s hand flew out of the pockets of his hoodie and took hold of both my upper arms, his thumbs pressing in firmly. Luckily I had on several layers, including a jacket.
“You didn’t see anything,” he said in a panicked voice, and just as quickly he released the tension of his grip. But he didn’t let go, no, his fingers still claimed my arms, but there was a moment where his eyes softened and welled with the threat of tears. “You didn’t see anything,” he repeated croakily, imploring me for silence.
My chest tightened, knowing he was desperate for me to keep his secret. But why? Why would he want to suffer? “I just want to help,” I whispered, my eyes spontaneously watering too.
And I don’t know why but I drew myself in closer, and his hands released from my arms and wrapped around my body like it was the most natural thing in the world. With a gentle touch I let myself hold him, carefully, like he was breakable. Yet I’d never hugged a boy before, not in my whole life. And certainly not one who despised me.
Mitchell’s chin rested on the top of my head, swaying softly across my hair. “You can’t help,” he murmured, “but thanks.”
That was the moment Mitchell Finlayson opened up to me. It was only a sliver, but holding each other in the hallways of River Valley High, I knew that this boy wasn’t tough and rebellious, no, far from it.
This was a boy who was sad and broken.
This was a boy who needed my help.
Chapter 14
MITCHELL
I LET MY GUARD DOWN.
It was so stupid. I’d churned the seatbelt story over and over, even googled how such an injury could cause bruised ribs. But the words never came out.
Instead, I turned to mush.
I hadn’t meant to grip Harper’s arms quite so forcefully, but something happened when I held her, something that scared me...
