Page 8 of The Boy Next Door

When the school day ends, it feels like freedom.

In all likelihood, I'm going to spend a frustrating evening doing homework that takes three times longer than usual while trying not to think about anything that happened today.

But as I head to my car, I can pretend that I'll go to my room, collapse face down on my bed and cry until nothing hurts anymore. It's soothing.

"Hey there!" A tiny person rushes forward as I step outside. "You're just who I wanted to see."

I raise my hand against the sun in my eyes and realize who stands before me. Renee. Dylan's girlfriend. Oh no. Has the big ugly confrontation finally arrived?

"Oh, I don't have anything to contribute to yearbook." I feign innocence, moving to step around her.

"Actually, we need to talk about Dylan."

"I'm not feeling too great." It's not even a lie. The thought of her murdering me for trying to steal her man makes me positively sick.

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" She comes closer, full of worry. "Should we go to the nurse?"

"She's off duty."

"Well, if she can't help a sick kid whether she's on the clock or not, then we don't have a very good school nurse." She shakes her head, coming up with a new solution. "Do you need me to drive you home?"

Unless her plan is to kill me with kindness, something doesn't add up. She seems... genuine. I doubt she has any idea about my love confession. She’s actually been nothing but nice and here I am always judging her just because she has what I want.

The last thing she deserves is me trying to steal her man.

I end up asking her what she wants.

"You seemed surprised when Dylan mentioned dropping photography club."

"Yeah, he never mentioned it to me." Only to her, way to rub it in.

"Oh, I'm sure he would have," she assures easily, and I suddenly feel terrible.

Why is she so nice? "You seemed about as thrilled with the news as me.

I just thought maybe you could talk to Dylan?

He's good and loves taking pictures, and his dad is so tough on him.

I don't want him to give up his one creative outlet. "

As she talks, a faint bubblegum smell reaches me, probably from her pink lip gloss. I wonder if Dylan enjoys the taste.

"Anyway," she says, mountain of red curls bouncing as she tilts her head. "It's something to think about."

"Yeah, I'll think about it."

"Thanks!" She beams at me as she moves away. "Feel better."

Despite coming from the worst person, I probably will think about it. Not only because him dropping the club means one less chance to see him.

And when I say 'worst,' she's, well. Renee’s not the worst. Peppy, maybe too peppy, sure. But I can't hate her for going after what she wanted when I never did. Not until it might be too late.

~

In the middle of doing my homework, I receive a text from my mom. She wants to know if a piece of mail came to the house by mistake. She also wants to know if I applied for any jobs yet.

As I stretch out after too long staring at a textbook before going to check the mail, I admit she has a point. I should start looking for another job even if it’s not as perfect as my last job at the tiny theater that showed art films and sold roasted nuts instead of popcorn.

And with the recent excitement in my life, maybe a boring job at the library or sorting mail at an accounting firm isn't the worst idea in the world. These are my thoughts as I go outside and stare at the shiny metal interior of the mailbox, devoid of mail.

"Hey Sam!"

Unable to stop myself from responding eagerly to his voice, I turn around to see Dylan jogging toward me with a bright smile.

While this may be a delayed reaction to my confession, I'm not sure it's very likely. But... maybe? Because as soon as he gets to me, he wraps me in a big hug. With him, he doesn't have to ask. Being this close is totally alright. More than alright. Except it ends too soon.

On the bright side, I see the biggest grin on his face when we part.

"So," I say, propping an arm casually against the mailbox. "What's new?"

"Are you kidding? Aren't you excited?"

"Yeah," I say, unable to hide a smile. "I'm excited."

"Me too," he gushes. “This is amazing.” For a moment, it's exactly like my wildest dreams. "I'm so happy for you."

And just like that, I'm wide awake and back to reality.

"For… for me?" I wonder. "What about you?"

"Hey, I think it's great." He smiles, big and earnest. "But this isn't about me."

It isn’t? What the…

"Sam!" barks a new voice.

Ah! Like a deer in the headlights, I freeze as Hunter charges toward me with a single-minded focus. There's heat in his dark blue eyes, and I'm helpless and soon to be roadkill, waiting for the impact—Hunter Cruse sweeps me into his arms and pulls me into a scorching kiss that leaves me dizzy.

Or maybe my head is spinning because I'm confused and don't even know up from down, but no, it's at least partly due to the kiss. If all kisses are like this, maybe it's a good thing this is my first. Maybe I can't handle them.

"Whoa," I breathe when we part.

"Yeah," he whispers, before joining our lips again.

With nothing else to compare it to other than the previous kiss... yeah, apparently all kisses are devastating. It's a good thing he's holding me or I'd melt to the ground.

As his tongue brushes against my lips, all I can think is that I really have entered a brave new world. It's sort of a pity I have to quit kissing him, but I really, really need to stop and ask for directions. Because I have no idea where the hell I am.