Different

Chapter Four

I had three classes with Ry O'Neil and my hair would not stay straight for the love of God. I figured it could at least make the front page on the Elegant Homes for Birds magazine because it was a total bird's nest.

   I sighed as I slid into my seat for the last class of the day. Anatomy. Out of all the classes I had with Ry, this one was the best and the worst. Pro, he sat right next to me. Con, Jackson was in this class.

And the boy was staring, more like glaring, at me. I hadn't talked to Jackson the Jackass, as I'd taken to calling him in my head, since the day in the court yard. I wanted to keep it that way.

I avoided his gaze as Ry dropped his bag by his desk and turned towards me. "I like your hair today."

   I turned towards him sharply, my face a mix of surprise and doubt. "Really? You like my hair today?"

    Ry gave me a sexy smirk, eyes dancing. "Yes, really. It's..." he tilted his head. "Wild."

    Wild was the nicer way of putting it. I tried to smooth it down a little, cringing when it sprang right back up. Curly hair was a blessing and a curse.

   Ry smirked and turned his attention back to class. We were learning about squamous cells. I took notes and tried to seem like I didn't want to gorge my eyes out with a scalpel. Notes made me want to die.

   Finally, the bell rang and I got up, hoisting my bag onto my shoulder. Ry stood with me and we walked out of class together.

   "Walk me out? I feel safe with you." He put a hand on his chest dramatically and I laughed.

   "You're such a damsel."

    He grinned down at me. "So it would seem."

   I smiled at him and he returned it, there was a certain warmth in his eyes that both scared me and excited me.

   I could see myself seriously falling for him.

   And I could see my heart getting seriously broken by him.

   I looked outside at the court yard. "Hey, let's go this way."

    I switched directions so fast that I rammed into his arm. "What the heck, Brooke?"

    I shrugged as we steadied and pushed into the cold air. It was getting chillier. My gaze roamed to the fence where I had first talked to Ry.

   Curious, I went off the path and towards the metal pole.

    "Brooke? Hey," six feet and then some of boy suddenly blocked me. Ry folded his arms in front of me and I gasped at how quickly he had moved. "What are you doing?" 

   I looked over his shoulder at the metal pole. "I'm looking at the fence."

   I moved to go past him but he snaked an arm around my waist, holding me back. I raised my brows at him. "What's the big deal, Ry?"

    He looked away, nervous. What was his deal? What did it matter if I looked at the fence? The image of the dented pole flit through my head and I felt my eyes narrow.

   "Let me go, Ry. I'm going to look at the damned fence."

    My hands found his chest and my fingers dug into the material of his sweatshirt. Our gazes crashed and I held his stare, daring him to say no.

    I slowly became aware of how close he was. To anyone else it would probably look like we were a couple.

He smelled like rain and summer and I wanted to lean into him. I was pressed against the warmth of him could feel every breath he took.