Page 18 of Fast Break
“Because the teacher told us we have to use our own time to work on it,” I say, trying to remain calm. “It’s worth thirty percent of our grade.”
“I see,” he says, using the break in the interrogation to take a bite of the spaghetti meatballs Mum has made. “What’s the name of the teacher who has made this supposed rule that impedes on family time?”
I can’t help the sigh that slips out, aware this will only aggravate my dad. “Mr Peters.”
“Penelope, can you call the school tomorrow to confirm this class project?” he says, turning his attention on my mum. “And if this is actually true, please have them note our displeasure at this imposition on family time.”
“Of course, David,” she says, always eager to placate him.
I slump down low in my seat, appetite gone missing. I can’t help but wonder if anyone else in my class is getting the third degree just for wanting a damn education.
But even as I sit there, just me, forcing strands of spaghetti into my mouth, that quiet inner part of me—the one who seems to be perking up a lot of late—is enjoying having the last laugh. Because that small, persistent part of me I’ve been trying so very hard to suppress is slowly starting to come to terms with the fact it’s not the girls in my class Dad needs to worry about.
Nope, Dad doesn’t need to worry about the girls at all.
CHAPTER 8
quinn
JT and I are focused on Thursday afternoon when we meet up to work on our project. I don’t regret any of what happened on Tuesday night, but I also really need this grade to be good. It seems like JT agrees because he is all business as he sits beside me at my desk late that afternoon.
We have a plan set out for our project and we’ve even managed to source some algae culture and the nutrient solution from Mr Allan, the teacher who runs the biology program in Evergreen’s agricultural science school. In fact, both he and Mr Peters are quite excited about our idea, and I expect Mr Allan will be quite a useful source of knowledge.
Mr Allan has already set up a small aquarium for us in the biology classroom and has most of the equipment we need. I am excited about this project and I think JT is too. I admit it seemed a little pipedream when we first came up with this idea, but I can actually see this working.
JT rubs his eyes and stifles a yawn. I take that as my cue to start finishing things up. I know what I’m like when I’m working on a project. I can easily get carried away and end up working all night. But I know JT has a packed week with his basketball commitments and I’m pretty sure we’re way ahead of the rest of the class on this project anyway.
“Want to call it a night?” I suggest, his big green gaze hitting me. My stomach twists as it always does when he looks at me, but I ignore it like I always do. I’m getting a lot of practice with pretending JT doesn’t faze me. Tuesday night a most obvious case in point as he lay spread out on my bed beside me.
“Yeah, I guess so,” JT agrees.
“You alright? You seem tired.”
“No, I’m fine. Just had a big training session last night.”
“If you’re not too tired I was going to suggest we drive to the school carpark and practice some driving on the way home?”
JT sits up straight in his chair. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were serious with that offer or not. I’ve had plenty of people offer to teach me to drive and not follow through.”
“I don’t say stuff just for the fun of it,” I assure him.
“Yeah. I’m getting to see that.”
“So? You want to get going?” I ask, climbing to my feet. JT shoves his laptop and notes into his backpack, in a hurry to get moving. He’s so cute and I find myself smiling again, something I do a lot around him. We call out a goodbye to Mum and beeline for my WRX in the driveway.
I drive us back towards school, the sun low on the horizon but still with enough light for JT to be confident with driving. The school is basically halfway between our houses, so it is not long before I am pulling up into the now empty carpark. I put the car into park and let it idle as I turn in my seat to JT who is bouncing nervously beside me. The late evening sun paints streaks of orange and gold across his face and my attraction to him slams me in the gut.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
I clear my suddenly dry throat. “You want to take over?”
“Yeah,” he agrees. We step out of the car and switch seats, JT clicking on his seatbelt and carefully checking the mirrors.
“So, where are you at with driving?” I ask.
