White is for Virgins (5 page)

“You suck!” I growled.

Evidently it is.

“No Em, that’s your job,” he whispered in my ear before class commenced.

I gasped at his repulsive comment.

I tried to maintain my fury as Mrs. Sawyer began class, but for the entire three-hour duration, all I could think about was how to get my paper back.

***

After class, I got up from my seat slowly, hoping maybe
he’d
come to
me;
maybe he felt some sort of remorse. But as I casually tucked my hair behind my ear and sneaked a glance to my right, I found he was gone.

I strolled out of class, disap
pointed, distraught, but mainly pissed off. Who did he think he was? Thinking he could just take my work and put his name on it?

A soft so
und made its way to my ears as the hallways cleared out and I was a few yards away from Mr. Aurelle’s room. I turned around to find Fox, leaning lazily against the wall, strumming his black, glistening acoustic.

He stood there, staring at me intently.

“I have a proposition for you, Ms. Price,” he said, anticipating my reaction.

‘
Of course you do
,’ I almost blurted.

I called it.

“Well, Mr. Evans, I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” I replied, surprising myself with how well I kept a straight face.

I turned
on my heel and headed for the kitchen, where I spent another agonizing three hours…

Normally, I wouldn’t have been in such a rush to get to the center, but out of desperation to get my sheet back, I paced myself. Despite saying I wasn’t interested in his proposition, I wanted my work back.

I walked into the building, finding no one behind the counter.

I found a note taped to the desk from Nina, saying that Carlos was stocking the storage room and that she needed to run to the hospital because she wanted to set up a blood drive. Deciding to pass the time, I turned on iTunes and pressed the shuffle button, hoping I’d get a song I liked, and not one of Nina’s
trumpety salsa songs.

I got lucky, singing along and swaying my hips about.

I heard clapping behind me, slowly turning my head to face my audience.

Please be Nina, please be Nina, please be Nina...

Fox stood there, with his hair damp and sticking to his forehead and his chest shiny with sweat beneath his
American Red Cross shirt.

“Nice voice.” He winked at me as he walked toward the counter. Setting his backpack on the granite, he reached in and pulled out a water bottle.

“Nice shorts,” I scowled, glaring at him. They were unusually tight. He took a few long, leisurely gulps of his water.

“I knew you’d like them.”

“They’re not uniform policy.”

“Nina approved,” he shrugged.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well she did, since I have to be here at four, Coach said I have to stay active and work as hard as I do at practice,” he explained, actually serious.

“Coach?”

He nodded, and when I gave him a quizzical look, he added, “I run track.”

Of course.

My m
outh formed in the shape of an O and then I walked back to computer. He hopped onto the counter, making himself comfortable.

“So. Where’s my list?” I muttered as nonchalantly as possible, closing iTunes and turning to look at him.

“What list?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh,
puh-lease,” I rolled my eyes, “This is the last time I’m gonna ask.”

“Good, it’s getting annoying,” he sighed.

I shoved him off the counter and he smirked, “You called me a terrorist! And
now
you want it back?”

“Yeah, you’re holding my paper hostage, and I can guarantee nothing bad will happen to you if you just hand it over.
Now
,” I emphasized the last word, as my patience wearing thin.

“You
gonna use force, Em?” he asked, smiling devilishly as he stepped closer to me.

“You are such
a pig.”

“The acce
pted vernacular is Fox, babe,” he laughed.

I rolled my eyes and threw my hands
up in the air in defeat.

It had to come to this…

He walked over to me, and then I saw it. My chance!

I caught him off guard and ran for his backpack, snatching it off the counter and running for the girl’s bathroom.

He caught up fast, though. He was right on my heels, and my heart was racing as I slipped into the safety of the bathroom. I placed the backpack on the sink and opened it up. The sound of the swinging door made me jump.

“This is the little
girl’s
room, you pervert,” I stated, trying to stall him as I rummaged through the contents of his bag.

“You stole
my bag, this is an exception,” he countered as he stepped into the bathroom fully, clearly ignoring my comment.

The door closed behind him, and my heart skipped a beat.

Awkward.

“Yeah, well you stole my paper first,” I murmured, afraid of the sudden flicker of excitement in his emerald eyes.

I risked breaking eye contact to look through the bag again, and from the corner of my eye I saw him take another step toward me.

I found my paper and whipped it out, letting his backpack fall on the floor. As he shook his head and slowly bent down to pick it up, I jumped over him and ran for the door.

“I didn’t realize we were playing leap frog,” he smirked, running after me again.

“I see you too are getting along,” Nina noted happily, walking through the doors toward her office.

Both Fox and I stopped running and I turned to face him, trying to slow my breathing.

“You put me through hell for this,” I said, holding up the paper, “Why?”

He smirked. Again. “Simply for the thrill of it.”

I shook my head and went over to my backpack, folding the precious list and putting it into the front pocket.

“Actually, Em, I still have that proposition,” he said behind me, and my whole body tensed up. He was behind me, and we were both behind the counter. I was trapped, unless I tried to hop over it again. After considering that idea I concluded I would most likely knock something over and Nina would come and catch me. I couldn’t risk that.

I stayed facing the computer, pretending to busy myself.

“You gonna say it anytime soon, or…?” I prodded, acting uninterested.

He paused.

“Well, I stole your paper because, besides the fact that you forgot it and had most of it done, I knew you were… well, a nerd,” he started.

Ahh
, he certainly has a way with words. Doesn’t he?

“Your point?” I muttered.

“Tutor me.”

I suppressed my laughter, resulting in a really unattractive snorting type of sound.
I turned around to face him, and found that his cocky smirk has been replaced with a slight frown. I feared he was serious.

“You’re serious?” I asked in disbelief.

He nodded, a bit sheepishly at that.

“Why? I mean, they put you in that class, but you need help?”

“They only put me in that class because I’m good in music and comp, and I need to ‘
enhance my vocabulary’
to not only write better lyrics, but pass the SATs,” he muttered, running a hand through his white blonde hair.

“Oh
,” came my brilliant reply.

We stood there in silence, and I was really starting to get uncomfortable.

“So…?” he asked, rushing my answer.

“So… you were going to blackmail me? Tutor you or possibly fail the exam?” I tested him.

“Well,” he started, caught off guard.

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

“Yeah, actually, I was,” he said, surprising me with his honesty.

“I’ll tutor you. Mondays and Tuesdays,” I huffed, “But if you ever steal anything of mine again or not take this seriously, I will not only ignore you, but I will ruin you,” I cautioned, surprised at the confidence and power in my voice.

“Ruin me?” he smirked, “What are you gonna do?”

I shrugged.
Good question.

“I’ll tell all the girls that you have genital herpes,” I decided, batting my eyelashes, “I’ll think of something.
You’re in no position to be challenging me right now, dude.”

He stood there, studying my gaze.

“Fine,” he said, stepping closer.

“Fine, what?” I asked, backing up.

“Fine, I won’t steal your shit anymore.” He rolled his eyes.

What’s with this guy and the language?
No wonder he needed to improve his vocabulary.