Page 15 of Don’t Love the Boy Next Door (Hotties Next Door #2)

Chapter Thirteen

Katie

“Sometimes I think I’m defective or something,” I say as I play around with my fish sticks, which, like usual, looks so disgusting my stomach churns.

“I mean, it’s art class. All you have to do is paint a picture, or draw something, or make a sculpture.

Yet somehow, I’m failing that class. And I’m an artist, so that’s kind of ironic… ”

Phoenix hmms as her eyes rove over her phone.

“Fine, maybe I’m not failing the class. But I’m definitely struggling with it. Ugh, it makes me so unmotivated.”

She continues studying her phone.

“Phoenix?” I ask.

My words fly past her ears.

“Phoenix, what are you so distracted with?”

No answer.

“ Phoenix .” I snatch her phone out of her hand.

“Hey!” She leaps and grabs it back before I have a chance to look at the screen. Then she tucks it into her pocket.

I lift a brow. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just reading some of my comments.”

Why is her face red?

“What?” she asks with a shrug. “You know my channel is a full time job.” She stabs one of her fish sticks and takes a large bite. Then she spits it onto her plate. “Gross! What garbage are these people feeding us? Someone needs to do something about this cafeteria food. They’re starving us.”

I laugh. “Sometimes the food’s okay.”

“Ha.” She pushes her plate away and reaches for her pudding. “Anyway, what were you whining about?”

I give her a look. “I didn’t whine.”

“Sure did.” She eats a spoonful of the pudding. “This isn’t that great, but compared to that crap? Wow, my standards have really hit rock bottom.”

That makes me laugh again. Then I gaze over the room, at the students seated around the tables, searching for one specific person. Eric rarely eats here. I think he spends most of his lunch periods in the music room.

Ethan and the football team aren’t here, either. They must have gone out to eat.

“So, whiny, what were you complaining about?” Phoenix asks as she scoops up some more pudding.

“That I’m almost failing art.”

Her eyebrows rocket toward the ceiling. “You’re failing art? It’s, like, the easiest class. How can a teacher grade us on artistic expression?”

“I know, right? I think Mr. Angelos hates me. He keeps telling me to try harder every time he checks my pieces.”

“Maybe he wants you to dig deeper. Like you’re not reaching your full potential or something. Maybe something’s blocking you?”

I know what she’s getting at. That I put up a wall the day my mom died. Which is probably true. Maybe I don’t want to dig that deep. I do enough of that when I perform on stage. Any further and I’ll crack.

“Of course the show must go on,” Harper’s loud voice echoes off the walls, completely dwarfing every other sound in the room.

“Obviously they needed to replace me. But everyone knows no one here can portray Belle the way I can. But Coach Lawrence forced me to choose between cheerleading and the musical. Doesn’t she suck?

I was handling everything just fine. But she thought I wasn’t putting as much effort into cheer as I should.

Which is total BS, because I’m, like, the best cheerleader on the squad. ”

When no one at the table says a single word, she gives them all a glare.

“Yeah,” they quickly murmur. “You’re the best.”

I roll my eyes to Phoenix, who makes a choking gesture and falls over on the table.

“It’s just total BS that I can’t do both. Our Beauty and the Beast will never reach new heights without me in it. I, like, made the show. I feel bad for all the people who are going to watch it.”

“That girl has issues letting things go,” Phoenix says.

I roll my eyes again. “Tell me about it.”

“And what makes all this even a bigger disaster? Is that Diaz didn’t bother to hold new auditions to replace me. Obviously I can’t be replaced, but I’m sure she can find someone at this school with good enough skills. But what did she do? She gave the lead to the understudy .”

“But isn’t that what the understudy is for?” a girl at the table asks.

Harper gives her a look you’d give a little kid who said something stupid.

“Bailey, don’t you know anything about theater?

The understudy is never as good as the principal.

That’s why she’s the understudy . Because if she was good enough to be lead, she would be lead.

The fact that Diaz is putting our beautiful musical into the hands of someone so unqualified and untalented—”

I yank myself off my chair and march over to the popular table. Harper’s mouth shuts as she takes me in, a smug smile teasing her lips.

“I’m so sick of your attitude, Harper,” I say, my voice rising in pitch as my cheeks flush with anger.

“You’re so self-centered and insecure that you can’t accept that someone might be a better performer than you.

But guess what? I am a better singer than you.

I am a better actor than you. That’s why you had it in for me since day one.

Because you’re threatened by me. But it’s obvious you don’t know anything about theater.

Because in theater, everyone supports each other.

Every role is important, which means every actor is important.

There is nothing wrong with an understudy.

She isn’t less talented than the principal.

In fact, the understudy’s role is essential because if something happens to the lead, there would be no show.

If you want a career in theater—which I highly doubt you do—you’d better change that attitude.

Because no one will want to work with you. ”

I spin around and march back to my seat.

Phoenix gapes at me. “Have I fallen into an alternate reality where my best friend is a major butt kicker?”

“I’m just so sick of her and her toxicity.” I stab my fish stick angrily and take a bite.

“Katie!” Phoenix says.

“Ew!” I spit it out.

That’s when I realize the cafeteria is dead quiet. Everyone is staring between me and Harper.

Speaking of The Harpy, her face is red with fury, her eyes bulging for my blood. Every other person at her table has their heads slightly lowered, like they’re scared to meet her wrath.

Growling like a bear, she peels herself off her chair and storms to my table, her friends closely behind. I swear steam shoots from her ears.

“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” she demands.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were the Queen of England. My sincere apologies, Your Majesty.”

She flares her nostrils. “You think you’re so great because you’re Belle. But everyone knows you’re nothing compared to me.”

I make an exaggerated eye roll and fold my arms over my chest. Clearly, not a single word that left my mouth left any impression in her stuck-up head.

“And FYI,” she says with a glare so sharp it can cut right through me. “I’m not insecure. Someone like me does not get insecure.”

With a nod to her group, they march out of the cafeteria.

Everyone gapes at me, including my best friend.

“Oh, I wish I would have gotten that on camera! Drama, drama, drama . You’re such a kickbutt, do you know that? I don’t think anyone else would dare put Harper in her place.”

“It’s ridiculous how much power she has here.”

“Right? Down with the tyranny!” She fists her hand over her head.

The bell rings, and everyone rushes to their class. I smile as I follow Phoenix, feeling unburdened. Even though I doubt Harper will change, it felt good to stick up for myself and give her a piece of my mind.

***

“Not live streaming?” I ask Phoenix as I pour over my math homework. Ugh, I normally do okay with math, but this material is just insane.

“Maybe later,” she says from where she’s lounging on her bed. “Not really in the mood.”

I lift my eyes to hers. She doesn’t look down or anything. She’s just absorbed in her phone. She’s been attached to that thing the last few days. It’s almost impossible to separate her from it.

“What are you always looking at on your phone?” I ask as I focus back on this impossible math.

“Hmm?”

I laugh. “It’s like you’re not even here. What, are you talking to a hot boy or something?”

Her face turns pink.

My jaw hangs open. “Wait, you’re actually talking to a guy?” I chuck my pen on my desk and dash over to her bed, throwing myself next to her.

She gives me a face. “You think the mere presence of a guy in my life would make me this happy? Puhleeze, I’m an independent young woman who finds her own happiness.”

I raise my brows.

“Fine, I met a guy.”

“ Phoenix !”

“What?”

“Who is he? How did you meet him? What’s his name? Does he go to our school? I need details.”

“Slow your horses,” she says with a nonchalant laugh, though she can’t hide her red cheeks. “It’s no big deal.”

“Well?” I say impatiently.

“Okay, so a bunch of morons were being jerks on my channel and he stuck up for me. We’ve been talking the last few days. And well…”

“And you like him.”

Her cheeks grow even redder. “ No . We’re just friends. I like him as a friend .”

Sure. Then why is she still blushing?

“What’s his name?”

“Liam. He’s eighteen and lives in Kansas. We gamed the other night and he’s pretty good.”

I give her a knowing smile.

She makes a face. “Stop. I told you he’s just a friend.”

“But you might want something more?”

“ No . Anyway, he lives all the way in Kansas.”

“So? These things happen all the time.”

“Look, I don’t even know anything about him. And I don’t do online relationships, so you can erase whatever thoughts you’ve got spinning around in your head.”

“Okay. I’m just excited for you because I know you want a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I want someone who actually lives in my city. There’s no point getting attached to someone when things won’t work out. That’s why we’re just friends. Not that I like him like that, anyway. Like I said, I don’t even know him.”

“Right…”

She folds her arms across her chest. “So how’s Eric Palmer doing?”

“What?”

“Eric Palmer? Hottie next door? Swoony backup singer and awesome guitarist in your band? Super romantic Beast? Does any of that ring a bell?”

I straighten up on the bed. “What about him?”

“How is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“ Sure you don’t.”

I get up and plant myself back at my desk. “Things went great at rehearsal this afternoon. He and I are vibing really well.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

I stare down at the complicated math. “I have a lot of homework.”

“ Right . Katie has homework .”

“Do you have any idea how hard this stuff is?”

She shrugs and lies back on the bed with her arms stretched over her head. “Meh. That’s why I don’t bother doing any of it.”

I give her a look. “How are you going to graduate?”

She shrugs. “I’ll pull it off. I always do.”

She’s really smart, even though she doesn’t care about school. She can pull off a passing grade by not even studying.

After a few minutes of me breaking my brain trying to learn this stuff, I close my book and turn to Phoenix, who’s absorbed in her phone again. “How’s it going with your parents?”

“It’s fine. I’ll visit them as much as I can. I just can’t live there anymore.”

“I’m sure they’ll support you one day.”

She shrugs. “It doesn’t bother me that much. They have six other kids. There’s a high probability one of them will turn out to be their perfect kid and make them happy.”

“You make them happy, Phoenix. I know they’re proud of you.”

“Meh. Doubt it. It’s cool, though. I love what I do and no one can take that away from me.”

“Not to mention your fans will chase you with pitchforks if you quit your channel,” I say with a laugh.

“I just wish my parents were a little younger and understood me a little better,” she says. “I hate arguing with them.”

At least she has parents to argue with. My mom is no longer here and my dad and I hardly interact.

“Anyway, I should probably try to learn that math, too,” she says as she picks herself up from the bed. “I don’t want to repeat junior year.”