Oakwood Academy (Book 1)

Chapter 7

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

He looked perfectly innocent, and that's when I knew he was definitely up to something. Guzmán never looked innocent.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Look, if you're trying to—"

"I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. He took a deep breath and continued. "Look, I know we've been less than welcoming. It's just...it's just that there was some stuff that went down last year with another scholarship kid and..." he trailed off. "And I don't know, I guess I just don't want a repeat."

"What happened?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"It doesn't matter," he said hurriedly. "The point is, I'm sorry for everything."

I didn't know what to say, so I stammered out a 'Thank you.' But, his apology—no matter how sweet and heartfelt it seemed—wasn't enough.

"This doesn't erase the fact that you cheated though. And it especially doesn't erase the fact that I won't hesitate to rat you out if the need presents itself."

He smirked. "'Rat you out?'"

I tried to make my face stoic, but his smirk got to me and a smile of my own broke through.

"I know, I know. Christian says I sound like I was taken straight out of a 1950s sitcom."

At the mention of Christian, whatever progress we seemed to have made in the past couple of minutes is wiped away. His face became guarded and his eyes hard. He's probably thinking about Samuel now, I thought.

I made a mental note to ask him about his side of what happened today later.

"So, look," he said. "I'm thinking we can probably start the project as soon as today. You can drop by my house and we can work on it there?"

I was surprised. I would never have thought that he—of all people—would want to start the project so soon. And inviting me to his house?

I didn't know where he lived, but I'm sure he usually had a 'no peasants allowed policy.'

What would Lu think of this?

"Actually, I'm gonna be a little busy after school today. I have to go see someone..." I waited to gauge his reaction. "To see Samuel."

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing everyone. Guzmán didn't seem to be in a rush to leave—probably to meet Lu—as he always did. Instead, he seemed to be trying his hardest to slowly pack up his things and walk me out.

"You don't have to wait for me," I said as I started to leave the room.

"No, no. What kind of partner would that make me?" But as he asked this, it felt as if he was barely able to get it out. 

I practically felt the anger radiating off of him and toward Samu.

We discussed the project a little bit more—him talking about what he thought of it "This'll be a great way for me to get more pictures for my Instagram" and me telling him I thought social media was a joke.

We eventually made it to the parking lot and he offered to give me a ride home.

"N-no," I stammered, taken aback by his sudden change in disposition—the kindness. "My dad is coming to get me."

"Alright," he said as he walked backwards and twirled his keys around his fingers. 

I wasn't sure when he'd gotten the chance to take those out, but I guessed they probably lead to a BMW or something like that. 

"See you tomorrow," he said. He got in his car—a G-wagon, of course—and drove off, but not before hitting me with a smile that knocked the wind out of me.

He's up to something, I couldn't help but thinking.

The crazy thing was, I wasn't sure I minded.