𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟! finney blake

CHAPTER 3! was she only a source of entertainment sometimes

﹙CINNAMON GIRL ★﹚

CHERRY WAS NOT PAYING ATTENTION!

Finney watched her and her friends whisper their plans for the upcoming weekend. None of them were interested in the teacher's lecture at all.

He tried to keep his eyes to himself. He'd considered not even going to school after what'd happened in the arcade, but that would probably make him look even more scared.

She had such ease being normal. He wished he could be as carefree as her.

The teacher paused, standing in front of the board. "Cherry, do you have something to share with the class?" He interrupted the conversation, bringing the whole class' attention to her.

The red-haired girl's lack of embarrassment shone whenever she spoke. "Sure! So, I don't know what to do on the weekend. Like, there's a lot of options, y'know? I'd have to do it all in two days, which is kinda hard."

Finney almost visibly grimaced at her comment.

"Must suck." A random classmate blurted.

"Bet you'd know, whore." Cherry replied, with a glare.

Finney did visibly grimace that time. Her retort echoes in the ears of her classmates, causing the room to fill with hushed whispers and giggles.

"Cherry, go to the office." The teacher's stern voice cut into the chatter. "Now."

"Oh no." The girl spoke sarcastically as she collected her items. She lifted a hand, waving at her friends. "Bye, guys!"

Her friends waved goodbye, like her office visit was just a field trip and not the consequence of her actions. Her hair swayed behind her as she walked away. It was difficult for Finney to focus on her behavior when she looked like that.

It was clear she was used to getting away with anything, another conclusion added to the mental list that'd been forming for a while.

Cherry poked her head back into the door frame. "Also, I'm not a slut shamer. Women should do whatever they want with their bodies. Be a whore!" She encouraged.

"Out." The teacher reminded, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm a feminist."

"Out!"

"I'm going!"

The girl's attitude only added to the negative perspective of herself. Her words were obviously only meant to get a rise out of people.

As she walked away, Finney wondered how much of her life was spent performing. Had she always been like that, or was she only a source of entertainment sometimes?

The classroom returned their collective focus to the lecture once more. Finney's mind was still on the bizarre situation that'd just occurred.

Cherry was so focused on herself that she almost ran over some kid as she started driving. She slammed her foot against the brake, took a deep breath, and glanced out the window.

Finney Blake, bloody nose and all. The sight made a lot of sense, considering Vance had returned from his suspension that same day.

Usually, Cherry would've offered her best pretend smile and the sweetest apology she could muster. She didn't feel so compelled to do so this time.

For whatever reason, as Finney shifted under her gaze, he felt the urge to apologize to her, as if she hadn't completely been in the wrong.

Cherry, with her head leaned out the window, took in the boy's complete appearance. He felt like he was being analyzed, and not in a good way. He never enjoyed being acknowledged in any sense of the word.

"Did Vance give you that?" Cherry gestured to her own nose.

Finney squeezed the straps of his backpack. The stupidest thing he could've done was give her a genuine answer. She was Vance's best friend, and snitching on him was a horrible idea.

Cherry sighed at his silence. Despite her lack of care for any sort of bullying, the one thing she hated was when people were pushovers.

"Get in." She said, unlocking the car door.

Again, another horrible idea, but he didn't think he really had a choice. So, he trudged over to the side of the car and sat in the passenger seat.

She drove in silence until she could pull over to a discreet location, like she was about to pull out a weapon.

"I can help you if you help me." Cherry offered, turning to face him.

"I won't sell any drugs." Finney declared, not letting her get another word out.

Cherry's nose crinkled with confusion. "Nobody would buy drugs from you. You look like a narc."

The curly-haired boy mumbled a right, and glanced around the luxurious interior of the car. What kind of sophomore could afford such a nice vehicle?

Finney felt like he was suffocating in the silence. "What do you have in mind?" He restarted the conversation.

"I need a tutor." Cherry informed, like it was a terrible secret.

"And you can't just... I don't know, hire one? Aren't you a straight-A student?"

"Dude, because I cheat on every assignment. Are you gonna listen to me or keep questioning me?"

"Listen. I'm listening."

Cherry was starting to think that this wasn't such a good idea. The kid in front of her was hopeless, and seemed content with staying as he was.

"Help me out with these tests, and I'll help you not get your ass kicked every day." Cherry offered, which made Finney wince.

"Thanks for putting it lightly." He commented.

"You're kind of a loser. That light enough?"

"Sure. Thanks."

"No problem."

Finney considered the offer. He was a good student, and he had experience tutoring before. He was sure he could teach her whatever she needed to learn fairly easily. What he didn't understand, was why she wanted to help him. Why not threaten him? Get Vance to kick his ass as an encouragement?

She didn't exactly seem like the type of person to go for a charity case. What did she care if he was being shoved around at school? The people shoving him around were her friends.

Against all better judgment, he found himself nodding.

"When do we start?" Finney asked.

"Tomorrow." The girl decided, leaving no room for him to bow out.

The drive to Finney's house was awkward only for Finney. It was like the red-haired girl wasn't aware of any of the nervousness he was feeling, and if she was, she was great at not showing it.

She parked outside of the home, while taking in the details of the building in front of her.

"Thanks." Finney said, but she didn't say anything in return. He pulled his backpack onto his shoulders.

His sister, Gwen, was being very obvious about her staring through the window. Suddenly, Finney turned around, a question bubbling on his tongue.

"How am I supposed to-" He began, but the girl had already driven off.

He watched the car move off into the distance, the question still swirling around his mind. How was he supposed to get in contact with her? Was he just supposed to assume their meeting place and time?

Why him? Out of any other kid she could've asked, she'd chosen him? He wasn't even an actual tutor.

What was he supposed to be tutoring her in? He did great in math and science, and decent in English and history.

What if it was a language? Could he learn Spanish or French overnight? He could try, but he was pretty sure that she was also in AP Spanish, meaning his Spanish 1 experience would be no help to her at all.

He was seriously overthinking it. Maybe he needed her help more than she needed his.