Page 9 of Don’t Love the Boy Next Door (Hotties Next Door #2)

Chapter Eight

Ethan

I sit in history class Tuesday morning. I’m a little early, which is weird since I hardly come to school early.

I have no idea why I’m here, but the girls seem to appreciate it.

The second I entered the classroom, they flocked to me, each begging me to either sit with them by lunch or hang out after school.

Honestly? I’m sick of all the attention.

Sure it was cool in the beginning, but now?

They’re really grating on my nerves. Why am I more special than anyone else here?

Because I’m captain of the football team? Because I’m part of a band?

“Ethan.” A girl tugs my arm. “ Talk to us.” They inch closer to me reaching to touch every available spot on my body. One girl’s hands comb in my hair, messing up my bangs.

I bend away from them, but that only fuels their attacks. They’re practically on top of me now and I’m worried my desk will topple over.

Do I tell them to get lost? It’s not a good idea to make enemies now. These girls not only love the new quarterback, but they love the band, too, and we need all the support we can get. That’s probably why I put up with all this.

My eyes find a crack between the wall the girls built around me and I look toward the doorway. Hmm. Phoenix isn’t here yet. Class should be starting in a few minutes, so she should be here. I want to get started on our report. We only have a few days before we need to present it to the class.

I can’t forget how we actually had a decent time at the museum. And maybe this could be the start of a friendship between us.

The small crack is closed as more girls fuse together, giving me wide, flirty smiles. And I return them because I have to. That only makes them giggle and flirt more.

As they continue begging me to hang out, one by one they’re pushed out of the way, like a bulldozer is crashing through them.

Lifting my head, I find Phoenix standing before me, eyes hard and mouth pressed into a tight line.

I smile and am about say hi, when her eyes narrow in fury. She slams a stack of papers on my desk.

I peer down at it, then look up at her.

“That’s the report,” she nearly spits, training those sharp eyes on mine. “Read it and be ready to present.”

She whirls around to leave, but I grab her wrist. She tries to yank out of my hold, her nostrils flaring like a bull. “What did I say about touching me?”

I don’t let go, because I don’t want her to flee. “I thought we were going to write the report together.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to pull free again. “I changed my mind. Can you let go?”

The girls are still crowded around us, watching like we’re in some kind of soap opera.

“What happened?” I ask her. “I thought we—”

Her eyes grow even harder. “I don’t want anything to do with you, so don’t talk to me ever again.” She narrows her eyes. “Get me?”

I just gape at her. “I don’t understand…”

Her eyes flame. “ Don’t talk to me.” She jerks out of my grasp with so much force she stumbles back. Since she’s gone, the girls surround me again. I try to look through any space for Phoenix.

What…just happened?

Things went so well yesterday. She actually smiled at me. Was a tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. And I laughed. What changed between now and then?

The bell rings, but the girls don’t disperse. It’s not until the teacher walks in that they either escape to their classrooms or take their seats.

I glance down at the stack of papers. Phoenix titled it and placed both our names underneath. I flip through it, not paying attention to the teacher’s lesson. Phoenix did a good, thorough job, definitely A material. But why did she do it without me? We’re a team. Or at least, I thought we were.

My gaze sneaks to the left side of the room, where Phoenix sits with an indifferent expression on her face. At first glance, she seems pretty normal, bored with the lesson like most kids here. But as I study her, I see her lips are tense, eyes still hard.

As if she feels me watching her, her eyes snap in my direction and they narrow like she wants to throw me into a lion pit.

When there are fifteen minutes left to class, Mrs. Holden tells us to gather with our teams to work on the project. Most of the kids aren’t done yet, and if Phoenix wouldn’t have written the report on her own, we’d actually have something to do right now.

She pulls her phone out and thumbs through it. I watch her, waiting for her to either look at me or come over or something. But she doesn’t. So I head over to her and am about to drop down in the desk across from her, but she sticks out her leg, placing it on the seat.

“Phoenix,” I say.

She keeps her attention on her phone.

“We need to work on the project.”

Her head jerks up. “The project is finished. Are you that dumb that you can’t even read a report?” She resumes playing with her phone.

I rake my hand through my hair. “Did I do something?”

She snorts.

I’m so tempted to throw her leg off that seat and sit down, but I don’t. Instead, I remain standing were I am, not taking my gaze off her.

“I told you I don’t want anything to do with you. So get lost,” she snaps.

I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, stand there.” She continues looking at her phone and I continue watching her.

I don’t know how much time passes before Mrs. Holden walks up to us. “Phoenix, Ethan, why aren’t you working on your project?”

“Already finished,” Phoenix tells her before I have a chance to talk. She lifts her eyes to meet the teacher’s.

A surprised expression fills Mrs. Holden’s face. “Really? That’s great. You two will present tomorrow, then.” She grins at Phoenix. “And you were worried about working with Ethan. I’m proud of you both.” She walks off.

I’m not shocked that she didn’t want to work with me. I didn’t want to team up with her, either. But after yesterday, I was glad we were partners. Now, though? I’m not sure.

“Why are you still here?” she nearly barks.

This time, I do gently shove her leg off the desk across and sit down. “Because I’m not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your existence is what you did wrong.”

“What?”

“Just leave me alone. We’re done with the project and after we present it to the class, I don’t have to deal with you anymore.”

I blink at her. “Deal with me?”

“Get the heck away from me or I’ll tell everyone you hurt me. Then you can kiss your dumb football dreams goodbye.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, then slowly get to my feet.

“Fine,” I say, not hiding the anger from my voice.

“Glad to.” I stalk back to my seat, plopping down and reading through the report, familiarizing myself with it and preparing to present.

The least I can gain from all this crap is a good grade.

My eyes don’t stop trekking in her direction, no matter how many times I order them not to. I’ve got no clue what’s up with this girl, why she hates me all of a sudden. But I can’t worry about it, because that will only distract me from the things that matter to me, like football.

She doesn’t look at me once, and when the bell rings, she dashes out of the room like a cheetah.