Confessions of a Queen B*

Untitled Part 36

I woke up Monday morning still debating if I should apologize to Brett.

By the time I got to school, I had my answer.

Brett stood by my locker, chatting with a couple of his friends. As soon as he saw me, he gave me the doll, his face cold and unreadable, and left without saying a word.

Yeah, I'd really screwed up.

A steel rod of indignation kept my head held high, though. If that was the way he wanted it to be, then so be it. I didn't need him. And once we were done with this project, I wouldn't have to interact with him for the rest of the school year.

Just the way I liked it.

Except, when I sat down at my table during health class, I was alone.

Brett had chosen to go back to his original seat in the front of the class with Sanchez.

My stomach sank as the bell rang and Mr. DePaul started talking about the effect of stress on the body. I unstrapped the doll carrier and laid it to the side so I could take notes, but my head really wasn't into the lecture. For someone who hadn't had to share a table with anyone since her sophomore year, I actually missed Brett's constant interruptions. They made this ridiculous class more bearable.

How far was I willing to go to get him back to my table? Obviously, I had to offer him something. It wasn't prime real estate as far as getting noticed by the teacher went, which could actually be a perk. I'd even be willing to smile once in a while if it meant he kept me from drooling on my laptop as I was nodding off to sleep.

But apologize? Maybe, if I absolutely had to.

I zoned out as I tried to find a way to entice Brett back without jeopardizing my "niche." I could text him. Slip him a note. Offer him a can of Red Bull with the next baby exchange. Offer to take the doll on Thursday night so he could rest up for the game (that was pushing it, though, because that meant I'd be on board with the whole "Go, Team!" agenda).

When I came out of my head, Mr. DePaul was pointing to things on a table. I read the title. Stress Scale for Teens. Then I scanned the list. No wonder I wanted to stay home sick most days.

Or why I felt sick to my stomach as I struggled over this whole Brett issue.

"And since you can see that an unplanned pregnancy and fathering a child are significantly stressful events that can affect your health, I decided to keep you paired up with your baby partners for this week's assignment."

While the rest of the class groaned, my heart quickened. That meant I'd have to work with Brett again. I wouldn't have to come up with some lame excuse to get back in his company.

I waited for him to look back at me, to acknowledge that we'd be paired up a bit longer, but he didn't. He kept his eyes fixed on the PowerPoint screen.

Mr. DePaul went to his computer and clicked a button. Two seconds later, I got an email with this week's assignment. Stress inventory and strategies for coping.

The bell rang. My heart thudded at a surprisingly slow and steady beat that was in stark contrast to my shaking hands. I forced myself to stay seated and take my time putting away my laptop while Brett whispered something to Sanchez.

A full minute passed before he came my way. He pulled out one of the chairs from the row in front of me and sat down, his elbows resting on the table. "So, when would be a good time to get together for this?"

"You mean you want to work together?"

"It's not like DePaul left us any choice on the matter." He leveled his gaze with me, carrying a new hard edge to his words that he didn't have before.

Not that I blamed him. Once bitten and all that.

I checked the email. "The stress evaluation is due Wednesday morning."

"Can we meet up tomorrow after class?"

I shook my head, thankful I'd agreed to meet Morgan at the Purple Dog tomorrow.  "I have plans."

He ran his fingers through his hair as though I was the most exasperating person he knew.

Perhaps I was. I know he was for me.

"I'm done for the rest of the day," I offered. "We can work on it now, if you'd like."

I was trying to be nice for once. This wasn't so bad. Baby steps.

"Sure, I'm done, too. Want to meet up in the library?"

And then my gut clamped down and my mouth dried up. "Um, can we meet somewhere a little less public?"

Suspicion filled his dark eyes. "Why?"

"You know why."

He relaxed, the tension leaving his mouth free to form a semblance of a smile. "Then where do you want to meet up? My place is a zoo since the twins are still at home with my mom."

"My place will be empty. Does that sound okay with you?"

Something else flickered in his eyes, but not suspicion this time. It was hot and primal and completely melted my insides. As quickly as it appeared, though, it was gone.

He rose from his chair. "Can I meet you there in an hour? I promised Summer I'd meet her for lunch."

I nodded. "I'll text you my address."

"Thanks." I expected him to leave, but he lingered there in front of me for a whole minute, staring at me as though he wasn't quite sure he could trust me.

I didn't dare look away. If he was testing me, I refused to buckle. I crossed my arms (a great way to hide a pair of shaking hands while still appearing tough) and added a jolt of intimidation to my gaze.

At last, he turned around. "See you in a bit."

As soon as he was out of sight and the room was empty, I fell apart. I leaned over the table, sucking in deep breaths like an asthmatic trying to open up her airways. My heart pounded so hard, its vibrations shook my entire body.

I'd been given a second chance.

I just hoped it wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass.