Eastwood Academy

Chapter 20: Breaking Point

 Because I'm willing time to freeze and Wednesday never to appear, the next day and a half rush by. I feel like one second, I was sitting in the committee room and now I'm here, standing outside of the library and nervously shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

As I head towards the library to meet River, butterflies assault my stomach. He looked unhappy when Connell and Nina asked us to get the sponsors' webpage up and running. I have a strong feeling that the part of this he objects to most strongly is the amount of time he will be required to be in my presence. I've spent way too much time trying to figure out what it is about me that gets under his skin so badly, and so far, I've come up with nothing more than the fact that I exist in general.

If I wasn't worried about staying on top of my homework, I would consider offering to do the damn thing myself to spare us both the discomfort of working together. Unfortunately, Eastwood's intense course load won't allow me to take that option.

It's four thirty-one. I'm wondering if River is already inside or if he's late. Should I text him and tell him I'm here? Or will he think that it's weird that I'd text him? Ugh. But he's the one who suggested we swap phone numbers. Deciding not to be a coward, I pull my phone out of my bag, shoot him a quick text saying I'll be inside, and open the door.

I walk up to the second floor and head to the back section, where there is a group of tables, and take out my history textbook and laptop before checking my phone. No reply from River. Is he going to stand me up? That would make me mad, but mostly because I don't want to get stuck doing all the work for this project. I wonder if River is actually that much of a dick. I know that thanks to the violent episode with the person he blames for the fire, River needs this to go well so his record will be wiped clean. He may not want to work with me, but it's in his best interest to make sure the committee is happy with his work.

I pull out my computer and start Googling simple hosting sites for our landing page. Almost an hour passes, and I'm practically grinding my teeth in frustration. It's one thing for him to throw away his future, but for him to be so callous with my time and the effort I'm putting into this is beyond aggravating. I wish I could power through this on my own, but I've been in the gym training to get back in shape, which has really been kicking my ass, and my homework has been keeping me up until 3am the last few nights.

Another half-hour passes, and he still hasn't shown up or answered my text. The least he could do is tell me if he can't make it. Beyond annoyed, I pull out my planner to see what homework I need to complete today and decide to start with my least favorite subject, math.

I'm genuinely worried I'm going to fail Calculus and barely pass AP English. I stayed up studying until 4am and still feel behind. So much for the 3.5 GPA requirement. All of this has put me in an extremely bad mood. The amount of caffeine I've consumed, combined with my lack of sleep, has left me jittery and unfocused. To my extreme dismay, I realize that unless I allow myself a little bit of respite, the quality of my work is going to be extremely poor.

I'm stuffing my laptop back into my bag when River appears at the top of the stairs, gym back over his shoulder with wet hair. He approaches me with the attitude of someone who has all the time in the world. I've tried to be civil towards him. I don't want him to see what an effect he has on me, but I'm beyond caring at this point.

I shove the rest of my things in my bag. My expression must be something to behold because River stands back and crosses his arms, looking at me and giving me that arrogant smirk that makes so many of the girls (and who are we kidding some of the guys, too) go weak in the knees.

"Do you always start projects acting like you have a stick up your ass?" He asks as I approach. If I thought I was angry a minute ago, now I'm practically seeing red. I know if I open my mouth, I'll say horrible, foul things to him. I force myself to brush past him silently, so anxious to get away that I'm practically running down the stairs.