Freshman

Chapter 28: The Cassanova

"Maia, why are we walking around the school grounds again?"

She tugged me all the way from my perfect view of Jen sort-of playing volleyball, to one of the collonade of shaded trees with small benches. We sat on one as we waited for something.

"Dude...." I complained. "Jen looked so hot playing volleyball."

"Playing volleyball?" Maia raised a brow. "He can't even do a simple strike, how is that playing volleyball?"

"Sh! Sh! Sh!" I hushed. "Let's just imagine that he's playing really well, and leave it at that...."

She sighed. "Whatever."

From a distance, I could see him once again dropping the volleyball for seemingly the millionth time today.

"Hey, look at him go!" I cheered.

"I see...."

"He's so great at this!"

"Great at dropping the ball? Sure."

Jen picked up the ball and gave it to a guy he was playing with. Once I saw the guy-he-was-playing-with turn, I noticed his refined face. Fair white skin, pale pink lips, chinky eyes, and an off-putting smile- completely and utterly contradicting Jen's. You know what this hunky guy's face looked like? A trademark face of a legit player. Now where have I seen his face before?

"Ew," I reacted. "Maia, isn't that Loreigne's ex boyfriend? Andrei was his name?"

Maia turned. "Who? Andrew Seasons?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "That guy. The one with that face.... Isn't he dating Jamila now?"

"Based on gossip, 'ya could say so."

I pointed at the volleyball area. They started to play again, but this time, without Jen. My crude and inscrupulous so-called boyfriend had already grabbed his bag and up and left without another word- or strike, for that matter.

"Aw," I pouted. "Jen's gone...."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Maia frowned. "A stalker to your own boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know." I shrugged. "I just took the hint that he doesn't like it if I stared at him for too long."

"And why?" She asked in outrage. "You're the girlfriend! You have every single right to drool over his, as you say, hot body whenever you wanted!"

"I-"

Something had cut me off. It wasn't sobbing, but it was somewhat a heavy sigh of disappointment and sadness. Maia and I turned our heads simultaneously to where it came from. We inched closer and saw a girl wrapped in a pile of jackets and undistinguishable cloth, sitting on another bench under a tree.

"Hey, are you.... Okay?" I approached with caution.

To my surprise, her head shot up from the pile of jackets.

"Oh hey," she rubbed her eyes. "It's just you."

"Michaela?!" Maia uttered. "What are you doing here? And why are you covered with so much jackets?"