Scar Patterson
The next day at school, Francesca avoided me like the plague. I had searched for her in her usual hangout spots–her locker, the school’s main hallway, and even in front of her first class of the day–but she was nowhere to be seen. I was beginning to think that she skipped school today just so she wouldn’t have to deal with me or my proposal for an exclusive relationship.
After twisting my combination into my locker, I clicked it open and grabbed a few books from the top shelf. My eyes caught a glimpse of the photo strips of Francesca and I taped on the inside of my locker, and I sighed. I ripped them out of their secured position and stuffed them into my pocket, not needing the constant reminder of how we were never going to be like that again. It also didn’t help that the news about my gay interaction at the booth was circulating around school. Many of my teammates stopped me in the hallways to press me about my sexual orientation in which I systematically responded with, “I’m straight.” It was funny how one stupid little thing could have everyone questioning me like they didn’t even know me at all.
I let out a slight groan and closed my locker, only to be met with a pair of ice blue eyes and lips that spread into an uncomfortable grin. Speak of the devil. He was propped up against the locker adjacent to mine and picking at his fingernails. “Heard the news,” he said casually while running his free hand through his messy blond hair, “about your breakup. Shit sucks.”
My eyebrow jumped and I quickly assessed my surrounding before leaning into him so that people wouldn’t overhear our conversation. “Wait, people know?”
He nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah. Everyone knows. People think it’s because Francesca found out you were gay.”
I rolled my eyes and made a mental note to fix the face of the person who did this. “Okay, well, I’m not gay, so you can leave me alone now.” I began to walk away, but he soon caught up to me, showing that he wasn't planning on leaving me alone anytime soon.
“The name's Jamie by the way,” he introduced himself, holding out a welcoming hand. “I’m really sorry about what happened with Francesca.”
I stared blankly at his hand. “Are you really?”
He paused to think about it. “You know what? Come to think of it, no.” And with those words, I started walking again. Jamie chuckled lightly as he walked alongside me, keeping a steady pace. “You really don't like me, do you?”
“What gave it away?” I snapped back. “You do realize that everyone knows we kissed, right?”
“Great!” he exclaimed, “so now we don’t have to worry about you coming out of the closet when it’s time.”
I curled my lip in distaste. “You’re disgusting.” Shaking my head in disbelief, I picked up my pace, hoping to lose him in the crowd.
“Well, you’re gonna have to learn to like me if you want to keep that scholarship of yours.”
I did what I did for most of my problems–ignored him.
Jamie still wasn’t getting the hint because he continued to walk by my side. “Or do you not care about that scholarship at all? I had you pegged as a selfish jerk, but maybe I was wrong about you.”
I stopped in my tracks and whipped around to face him, jabbing an accusing finger into his chest. “You know what I care about? Francesca! And she doesn’t even give a damn about me.”
He stood with a perplexed look on his face, but the corners of his lips were still upturned into a mocking smirk. “I didn’t know you were that into her.”
My gaze drifted to the floor. “I am, or I was, or…” I sighed, “…I don’t know.”
Jamie folded his arms against his chest and raised a light-colored brow, his smirk deepening. “What if I told you I can help you get her back? Like, for good.”
Somehow, that grabbed my attention. “How?”
He raised his hands in defense. “I can't reveal all my tricks and secrets, Patterson, but I promise I can get you back with your slutty girlfriend in no time.”
I grimaced at the derogatory term, but decided not to argue against it. “And what do you want in return?” I raised a skeptical brow.
Jamie's brows furrowed in confusion as he placed a hand on his chest and let his mouth fall open. “Why do you think I want something?” he questioned with a slightly offended look.
Growing irritated, I snaked my hand around his bony arm and pulled him closer to me. “What do you want,” I spat as a demand rather than a question.
“Okay, okay.” He squeezed out of my grasp. “I want half of the proceeds you get from the kissing booth.”
I was half expecting it to be a crazy demand, but knowing he only wanted money made me beyond relieved. “What do you plan to do with the money?”
A teasing smile curved his lips. “That's not really important,” he said. “Is it a deal or not?”
I thought it over for a moment. I didn't really know what led me to believe that Jamie had the ability to get Francesca to give up her promiscuity, but I believed him. “A third of the proceeds,” I inserted.
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine.”
I took his hand in mine and we shook on it. “Deal.”
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