Lessons

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Boys stand and stretch up, pulling their arms over their heads and grunting. They swing their arms like windmills. This is fascinating anthropology. Guys are so different from girls! I'd like to pee, but, as discussed with Jill previously, this poses a problem. When a few guys amble out of the room, presumably to use the restrooms themselves, I decide I'll be able to hold it for at least another hour.

            Sam hasn't moved from his seat on the couch and I'm doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact. I'm wondering how I'm going to get back at him and becoming progressively angrier. Who the hell does that? And isn't it some kind of sexual harassment? The sound of Sam's phone vibrating, followed by his quiet snicker, isn't helping. I look determinedly elsewhere as he taps something into his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

Suddenly, notification sounds fill the room. My stomach drops. Mr. Coleman's not here, but the majority of the boys are, and now they're checking their phones and they're also snickering, and looking at me under their stupid, lacrosse-playing lashes. When Coleman shuffles back in, I'm still thinking through my revenge, and I jump when he claps his hands together twice, calling the boys' attention.

There are maybe forty of us, so we're spared the "getting-to-know-you" games with the larger group. Instead, Coleman separates us into groups of 6 or so, requesting we introduce ourselves: where we're from, how long we've been at Ryder, and what our hobbies are.

I look around the guys in my group. They seem so damn calm. I'm practically radiating annoyance and stress. Listening to Jill was a massive mistake. The only good thing? Sam's in a separate group with 208.

"How about our resident female goes first?" A kid with shaggy brown hair suggests. I pin him as a hockey player immediately.

I glance around the group and sigh, settling Sam's hat lower on my head. I do my best to affect a calm demeanor as I launch into it. "All right, what am I supposed to share? Name: Logan. I've obviously just started at Ryder, or else they'd have had me in the system as a girl," I pause after drawing out the word. One of the guys in the group grunts appreciatively.

"We definitely know you're a girl," he mutters, letting his eyes run over me. I narrow mine on him.

"Just like I definitely know you're a pig."

The kid doesn't even bother to feign embarrassment, simply shrugs and leans back on his palms.

"Anyway, " I continue. "I'm temporarily rooming in 202."

I look around the circle, waiting for the next guy to go.

"And your extracurriculars include...?" The shaggy-haired guy prods. I'd forgotten.

"I run. I'm on the cross-country team here."

"What else?"

I watch the boy across from me cautiously. He looks excited and a little nervous.

"What do you mean 'what else'?" I bite.

"I mean," he leans in and lifts his eyebrows suggestively. "What else do you like to do, Logan?"

A boy with a close-cropped buzz cut jumps in. "She gives a mean rubdown." He grinds his crotch in my direction.

"And puts on a killer show," Another adds. The kid that 'definitely knows I'm a girl' lets out a whoop and high-fives his buddy. My eyes meet Sam's. From the amusement on his face, I can tell he's heard the entire interaction.

My lips spread in a slow smile and I keep my gaze on his. "You're dead," I mouth. His lips turn up in a grin and he winks, running a tongue over the lip ring. It makes me shiver from the inside out.

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