Five Weeks to Forever [BxB] (WILL NEVER BE FINISHED)

Chapter 14.

That doesn't mean I wasn't still mad at him, though.

A frown pulled on my lips as I stared down at my phone, my updated grade for English class flashing in my face, mocking me.

I still had an 'A', of course, one F wouldn't be enough to knock me off of that podium, but it was teetering dangerously towards the 'B' area, making me a bit nervous. Along with our finalized grades for the first semester, Mr. Bennett had also included a small note, wishing us a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

But of course, because he was a teacher, he couldn't just end it there.

As a friendly reminder, the end of the note read, teamwork is a skill you all will be required to have and use well when you go out and get a real, corporate job. Focus on honing it now rather than later!

Usually something like that wouldn't have bothered me, but it was so obviously directed at Matthew and I, Mr. Bennett might as well have been waving around a flag and yelling 'Look at these two idiots! Point and laugh at them, everyone!'

Seriously, how hard was it for teachers to use just a little discretion? Jesus.

A quick swipe to my email confirmed that the entirety of my first semester grades had been sent out to my mom, which left me with a whole other problem- If she saw how shitty I'd done on the project, lord knows she'll beat my ass into tomorrow.

Though, to be honest, I wasn't sure why I was so concerned.

It's not like she's been paying much attention to me lately.

Since the whole thing with my dad, our relationship had been pretty rocky. Things had improved when she patched me up after the party on Friday, but not by a lot. We were on speaking terms now, but that was about it.

Part of me wanted to talk to her about it, about my dad. I was tired of walking on eggshells around her. On the other hand, though, I didn't want to spring open the can of worms that was any topic involving my dad. I was scared it'd just lead to another screaming match and send us right back to where we started.

Needless to say, I was a bit conflicted on what to do.

I glanced up from my phone as the lights in the auditorium dimmed, the murmuring of people in the audience drawing to a close. I tucked my phone back in my pocket, leaned back against my chair, and watched as a spotlight drifted over to the center of the stage.

I was done thinking about my mom and dumb grades.

Right.

I was here for Eloise.

"Hello," A voice that I easily recognized as Eloise's, despite the thick New York accent painting his words, rang out through a microphone. "And welcome to the highschool edition of A West Side Story. Before we begin, I need to get some housekeeping things out of the way.."

In the middle of listening to Eloise chirping about how all our phones should be on silent mode or else he'd smash them into pieces, I felt something brush by the back of my neck, accompanied by quiet footsteps behind me. I turned around, and immediately frowned.

Scratch that, not something. Someone.

And considering my oh-so-amazing luck, you could probably already guess who it was.

"Do you really have to sit there?" I mutter, keeping my voice low. Matthew's eyes flicker to mine in an attempt to feign surprise, but he wasn't an actor and he wasn't on that stage. He crossed his arms, big bulging muscles shown off by his loose tank top that didn't leave much to the imagination. If I didn't enjoy the eye candy, I would've called him out on having improper theater attire.

Eugh. I think Eloise has rubbed off on me too much. I'm starting to sound like him.

"These were the only seats left." He whined, wincing as people around him shushed at him to be quiet. "Turn back around. Pretend I'm not here."

That would've been incredibly easy to do, had Matthew not been so intent on making my time in the theater a living hell.

I swear, he was purposefully kicking my chair every five seconds, breathing down the back of my neck, chewing on popcorn loudly enough that I'm sure everyone else in the theater could hear.

When he reached forward around me to tap on my shoulder, I'd had enough.

I tore myself up from my chair, ignoring the annoyed looks people threw my way at me blocking their view, stalking over to the side exits and tossing open the door. I'm halfway down the hall when I hear rapid footsteps behind me, barely managing to make it inside the bathroom before someone comes stomping in behind me.

And of course, I already know who it is.

"What is your fucking problem?" I snarl animalistically, whipping around. Matthew stops up short, his eyebrows shooting up at the animosity in my voice.