Perfect Student

Chapter 8

Dinner that night was uneventful. Bryce had to do work remotely to complete something he was working on at work, so we ordered a pizza and split it while I watched TV and he worked on his laptop beside me. When we finished the meal, he stretched out the recliner and I fell to the floor, looking up at the TV and kicking my legs in the air behind me. His fingers clattered away on his keyboard as Lorelai and Rory shared witty jokes and got themselves into terrible situations.

"I don't get why we like Rory," Bryce said, eyes still pointed at his laptop.

"What do you mean?" I asked defensively, propping myself up on my elbow and facing him.

"She's kind of annoying and doesn't really take control of her life. She just lets everything happen to her and never makes her feelings clear," he said astutely, still typing away. I was beginning to wonder if he had been doing work at all while we were here.

"She's sweet and innocent and young. She's still learning what life is like!" I defended, starting the show again.

"Okay, well this Dean guy is definitely not right for her either," he muttered, still typing. I giggled and kept watching, until my head fell onto my arms, and I started to get sleepy. I had just started to drift off when Bryce let out a cry.

"What? What?" I asked dizzily, sitting up in a panic.

"Guess who just texted?" he asked, checking his phone.

"It better be the fucking Queen of England," I said, rubbing my eyes and shaking my head to get my stray hairs off my face.

"No cursing," he chastised, before scrolling with his thumb. "Oh my gosh. James just texted! Do you remember him? Probably not, you were just a baby..." His eyes ran over the text, reading it as he spoke.

"Oh yeah. I remember him," I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. Bryce's face clouded with anger, and my stomach dropped.

"You saw him today?" he exclaimed loudly, finishing the message, and dropping his phone on the couch. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't know what to say!" I said back, not entirely lying. The truth was that Bryce could read the expression on my face like it was written in sharpie and I didn't want him to know how I felt about James being back. Although, I didn't entirely know how I felt about James being back. I wanted so long to see him again and get a chance to say all the things I never got to, but it wasn't how I imagined it would be. I wasn't the same little girl I was then, and he had probably changed significantly in college.

Bryce picked up his phone when it buzzed and smiled, typing a text quickly.

"Well, that's settled. He's coming over for dinner on Friday," Bryce announced.

"What?" I asked, eyes wide. I looked around at our house like there was something incriminating me for murder lying around. He laughed at my expression.

"He's my teacher! Isn't that weird?" I begged, not wanting to see more of James than I absolutely had to. Something in my chest argued with that, sending butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him across the dinner table, laughing at something I said.

"He was my best friend, kid. He's coming over whether you like it or not," Bryce said, shutting his laptop and grabbing the remote from the floor beside his foot. He turned off the TV in the middle of my show and nodded his head in the direction of the stairs.

"Bedtime," he decided, face straight.

"I'm 17," I replied, face bored. He would never stop treating me like a child.

"Fine," he said casually, walking out of the room and beginning to walk up the stairs. "You can walk to school tomorrow then." He flicked off the lights as he went, leaving me in the glow of the TV screen. 

"You wouldn't!" I argued, mentally calculating how far we were from my high school. It was easily over ten miles, and mostly uphill.

"Oh yeah?" I heard him ask, pausing at the top of the stairs. I grabbed my phone and scampered up the stairs behind him, sticking my tongue out at him when he reached the top.

"Good choice," he said arrogantly as I walked into my room and shut the door behind me.