Between The Lines

Chapter 110: Under The Old Oak Tree

Rebecca's POV (1st Person):

Charlotte and Oliver had been on my case all day, whispering, giggling, and making me want to crawl under my desk and disappear. I tried to move a row behind them to escape their teasing, but it only made things worse. I could still hear them, their voices carrying just enough for me to catch bits of their conversation.

And of course, his name kept popping up.

It was impossible to focus on the lesson. The more I tried to ignore them, the more their words seemed to pull me in. What were they saying about Lane? Were they gossiping about him? Or worse—about us? My curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself leaning forward slightly, trying to catch more of their conversation.

Just as I was about to piece together their latest round of gossip, someone slid into the seat next to me. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, and I whipped my head around to see who had just slid into the seat beside me.

The boy sitting there had the kind of face that made you stop and stare for a second longer than you should. He had dimples that appeared whenever he smiled, and his tousled hair framed a face that was almost too perfect to be real. But what really caught my attention was his accent—strong, warm, and undeniably hot. It was the kind of voice that made you want to hear more, even if he was just asking to borrow a pencil.

"Hey," he said, his voice carrying that hint of something foreign and charming. "Mind if I sit here?"

I tried to keep my cool, despite the butterflies in my stomach. "No, go ahead," I managed to say, hoping my voice didn't betray how flustered I felt.

He smiled—those dimples making another appearance—and I found myself smiling back despite my best efforts to stay focused. "I'm Rebecca," I offered, trying to sound casual as I extended my hand.

"Ryan," he replied, taking my hand in his. His grip was firm, but not overly so, and he didn't seem like the overly confident type—just nice, and... well, really, really cute.

Just as I was about to ask him where he was from, the door to the classroom opened, and I felt a familiar tension ripple through me. Lane walked in, his presence immediately commanding attention. I busied myself with my notebook, avoiding his gaze, though I could practically feel his eyes on me.

The last thing I needed was to mess up another class, especially after the disaster that was the dance lesson. My brain flashed back to all the ways I'd tripped over my own feet, missing steps and losing count, thanks to Matt's distracting jokes. I could feel the embarrassment creeping back in, and I knew I couldn't afford another failure—especially not in English, where Lane would be watching my every move.

I glanced over at Ryan, who was now flipping through his textbook, and then back to my notes. Focus, Rebecca, I told myself. I wasn't about to let a cute boy or Lane's watchful eyes throw me off today.

But of course, that was easier said than done.

Lane's voice broke through my thoughts, smooth and steady as he began taking attendance. He didn't look up as he called out names, but I could sense the tension in the air, thick enough to cut through with a knife.

When he finally got to Ryan, I could have sworn there was a slight pause before he said, "Ryan Carter."

"Present," Ryan answered, his accent making even that simple word sound somehow intriguing.

Lane's eyes flicked up, briefly meeting mine before moving on. I busied myself with my notes again, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. This was going to be a long class.

Ryan leaned a little closer, his voice low and curious. "So, how long have you been at this school?"

I glanced at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "A while now. It's, uh, pretty nice here."