Page 10 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

CHEATING AND CREATING BONDS

Cassandra

Mr. Yun hands me the test, and I quickly write my name down on top of the page so neatly, half-hoping that if my brain fails me, maybe my pretty handwriting will earn me some extra points.

Cassandra Isabella Rivera Alonso.

The equations stare back at me like they know I won’t solve them, but at least half of the class seems to share the same level of apprehension. Even the Kayla Saint-Louis has the decency to look somewhat stressed out.

Alice Chartrand is by her side, sitting a few rows ahead of me. She keeps flipping the page back and forth and cursing loudly in her native language. I don’t understand a single bit of Mandarin, but she doesn’t sound happy about the test either.

I think about what Kayla didn’t tell me today at lunch and the look in her eyes, and decide that they definitely make an odd pair: the two smartest girls in our grade, who somehow also happen to hate each other, always sitting together.

I mean, I know it’s out of habit, but it sure as hell is a strange one. You’d think all the animosity would pull them apart, but it actually only does the opposite by bringing them closer together.

Just really odd.

Fifteen minutes later, Mateo Pereira barges in. He walks up to Mrs. Yun’s office, hiding his face behind a napkin and waving a nurse’s note around like it’s a golden ticket.

“Nosebleed,” he announces with a flat tone.

The teacher eyes him suspiciously.

Two weeks ago, Mateo tried to falsify the nurse’s signature to get out of class. One of the teachers caught him doing it, and Mateo got himself three days of total suspension.

Since then, the administration has provided blue stamps to ensure it doesn’t happen again.

Everybody thought it was funny, but that’s the kind of thing that will show on his record.

Getting suspended is tagged as misbehavior.

Misbehavior means you don’t listen to the rules.

Not listening to the rules makes you a problem.

Nobody should want to be a problem, but Mateo Pereira acts like he doesn’t care.

“Sit down and start your exam.”

The only seat available is the one next to mine.

I reluctantly place my backpack down to free up the chair.

He walks in my direction with a lazy smile that definitely does not belong in Mrs. Yun’s classroom, and I stare quietly at the way his t-shirt is worn out and unbuttoned, showing a silver necklace with an angel pendant around his neck.

Mateo sits down, quiet at first, but less than five minutes later he starts to poke my arm with his Mario-themed rubber.

“Need any help?”

“Silence, Pereira, or you will be asked to leave!” Mrs. Yun warns without missing a beat, her back still turned to the class as she writes down instructions on the blackboard.

He smiles sheepishly and shrugs, “Sorry.”

30 minutes left.

My table keeps moving.

I glance at my feet and try to keep it steady again by placing my hands over the surface and holding it still. Mateo’s left foot taps harder against the leg of the table, and when I shoot him a glare, he tries hard not to laugh.

The length of his hair gives him a sort of unkempt look, chocolate brown curls falling each way like he just rolled out of bed after taking a long nap.

His dark blue pants are two inches too long, and the sleeves are rolled messily around his elbows.

A pair of dirty white Converse are covering his large feet, and he keeps the laces untied, rolled together around his ankles.

Mateo’s uniform isn’t tailored, and one might even assume that the uniform doesn’t belong to him at all.

All things considered, his enrollment at Sainte Madeleine must be scholarship-based.

My father grants them upon merit, but it does not cover uniforms and books.

I should have definitely paid more attention to dinner conversation—this is definitely the kind of information that would’ve come up.

His eyebrows shoot up when I say nothing.

“You’re Cassandra, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Mateo,” he smiles knowingly, showing me two perfectly small front teeth. I look away, feeling myself blush a little.

“Oh, I know who you are.”

It doesn’t take too much for him to make anyone’s heart go boom-ba-da-boom, which is never a good thing. A pretty boy who knows he is pretty is always a problem. I try to stay away as much as possible. Beauty makes me act stupid.

“Mn,” he smirks.

Glancing down at my test, I breathe in and out deeply, trying to calm my nerves a little bit. Then, I write down the only answer I’ve found so far. I’m pretty sure I’m right because anything else seems rather far-fetched, so maybe this test won’t be a complete failure after all.

“You’re sure you don’t need any help?”

I watch him flip the page back and forth, gaze flying through all the other questions like he’s deciding where to start.

“The answer to question A is not thirty-one, Rivera.”

A little surprised, I stare at the numbers again, trying to figure out what he is seeing in this test that I am not. I don’t even know how he managed to read what I wrote in the first place. My handwriting tends to be messy.

“Thirty-two?”

“Well…”

“Three?” I try again, keeping my voice as low as possible so Mr. Yun won’t hear us.

He shakes his head from one side to the other, telling me no.

My face falls.

“Maybe just thirty?”

Mateo smiles, trying hard to be polite.

“Dude, not even close.”

He starts writing down his own answers, barely spending more than thirty seconds between each question. I stare at his handwriting with awe, impressed by how he keeps each answer neatly lined up. Clearly, he didn’t miss any of the calligraphy classes in elementary school.

“Just take my answers, okay?”

“Okay, thank you,” I exhale loudly, checking on Mrs. Yun. “We’re really lucky today.”

“Hm?”

“Mrs. Yun is too busy checking on Zach,” I explain, eyeing Zacharias on the opposite side of the room.

His red hair is filled with gel, styled in spikes that go each and every way. Zach looks like an emo kid now, which is a bit silly, but I guess there’s no harm in trying to find yourself.

Mateo ignores our classmate completely to focus on staring at Mrs. Yun, his face going from completely relaxed to slightly annoyed.

“She’s so fucking uptight.”

“A little bit, yeah,” I agree, rolling my eyes and wetting my lips. “Thanks again for helping me.”

“No worries.” He slips a small piece of paper across the table without looking at me, checking his test to see if there’s anything else he might’ve missed in the five minutes he spent working on it. “Caleb’s number. He wants to talk to you.”

So, Kayla was right.

This is about Caleb Monteiro.

“Are you trying to find him a rebound?” I try not to smile, my fingers hovering above the paper as I hesitate to copy off his test.Instead of using every single answer, I start writing a few wrong ones just in case the teacher decides to check our work.

I mean, you never know.“You really think I’m that easy? ”

Mateo shakes his head, snickering like what I just said sounds funny to him.It probably does.Caleb Monteiro doesn’t need a wingman, and I might not be easy, but I certainly am not difficult either.

“I don’t think anything. He doesn’t need my help to score with you.”

Point for me, I guess.

“Is that so?”

“Of course not, Cassandra.”

The more I listen, the more I start to frown.

“What’s the point of this, then?”

He could have just handed me the note quietly.

“Look, I’m just trying to make a new friend by breaking the rules and possibly pissing my teacher off,” Mateo avoids my question. “Can you tell me if it’s working, or am I just making a fool of myself?”

“I don’t know,” I answer casually, knowing he has been around since early September and never tried befriending me before today. “You’ve never spoken to me before, so to be honest this feels a bit forced.”

“Ouch, that’s rough.”

“No, it’s not.” I shake my head, finding him silly.

“Oh, come on, Cassandra. There’s a first time for everything. And I’m really not so bad, you know. You might even like it, being my friend.”

Mrs. Yun’s gaze snaps forward, eyes like a hawk, trying to find out who is cheating during her test. I snort lightly, drawing attention to myself.

“Is there a problem, Cassandra?”

I fake a cough and Mateo bends over, hiding his face between his arm and the table.

“Allergies, miss,” I lie.

“Well, keep coughing more quietly so as to not disturb your classmates, please.”

“Yes, miss,” I answer while nod profusely, putting on my best good-girl act.

“ Yes, miss, ” Mateo imitates me, and the kid sitting behind us chuckles a little too loudly.

I roll my eyes and start doodling on the test.

“I’m Mateo, by the way.”

“Yeah, you already said that.”

“And you’re Cassandra Rivera.”

I shake my head this time. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Good.” Mateo grins happily. “We’re so off to a good start.”

I can’t help but disagree.

“No, we’re not.”

Another five minutes goes by where Mateo doesn’t say anything else. I start to think he might be done with talking to me, but he finally decides to speak again.

“Now that we’re basically best friends, can I ask you something very important?”

I roll my eyes, but my tone remains. “What?”

“Don’t go out with Caleb.”

“Shouldn’t you be trying to convince me to give him a chance?” I point out, finding it strange that he isn’t pushing me the other way around. “I thought you two were friends.”

Mateo drops his gaze. “I guess, but…”

“But what?” I press. “What’s the deal?”

“He is…”

Mateo checks around to see if anyone is listening to our conversation. There’s a nervous edge to him now, something that definitely wasn’t there before.

“He is not who you think he is, okay?”

I snort, “Famous last words of someone who won’t stop kissing his ass.”

“I do not kiss his ass, and I’m being totally serious,” Mateo counters, and his smile falters for a second when I don’t say anything else in response.