***Kendal***
“Kendal! Wait up!”
The voice is familiar but it’s in the wrong place at the wrong time, so hearing it makes me stop in my tracks. Some freshman girl was apparently following too close behind me, because she nearly trips over me as I spin around. “Sorry,” I mutter, before turning my attention to the source of my surprise.
“Kyle! What are you doing? Is everything okay?” He doesn’tlook upset, maybe a bit flushed from running through the halls, but otherwise all right. But he shouldn’t be up here right now. Despite our best attempts to align our schedules this year, our afternoon classes are nowhere near each other, and his last class – which starts in just a couple of minutes – is both downstairs and on the other side of the building from mine.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says.“I just wanted to talk to you.”
“About?” There’s something about his look right now that I don’t like.
“About seeing if you could call in to work and come to dinner at my house tonight. It’s apparently some big deal for my mom, and she wants you to come.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have texted?”
“You can’t read texts in English.”
This was true. Mrs. Buchanan was unique among the teachers at Evan’s Heights High for being able to enforce a no-phones rule. Actually, I’m grateful for the reminder, and take my phone out of my pocket to make sure it’s on silent before slipping it into a zippered compartment inside my backpack. There are no notices of missed messages, though, so his coming to talk to me when I’ll be rushed is getting more suspicious.
“I’m not in English yet, you know. And you could have asked at lunch.”
“You were preoccupied at lunch, talking about…”
“Yeah, finish that sentence Kyle. I was talking about how I’m worried about whatever this English assignment is going to be, and now you’re about to make me late for class.”
His gaze drops to the floor with that puppy-dog look that always makes me forget what I was thinking. It’s unfair. “I’m sorry. I just…forgot earlier, and I wanted to ask you in time for you to call in.”
I look up at the clock over the bank of blue and white lockers. “Well, this is barely enough time. I guess I can see what they say.”
“Thank you!” His brown eyes light up in the way that melts me every time, even when I wish it wouldn’t, and he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’ll meet you after your class.”
“You’d better hurry downstairs before you’re late.”
He shrugs and throws that cute grin at me before jogging away.
I’m already digging in my backpack again for my phone when I remember why I was so suspicious. “Hey!” I yelled down the hall to him. “What is the big deal anyway?”
“My grandmother’s birthday,” he called back. “She’s coming over. I’ll see you in an hour.”
The phone slides out of my hand and lands with a muted thud on the stained gray carpet. I’m going to kill him. He promised.
“So, did you still need this, or is it up for grabs?”
“What?” It takes me way longer than it should to pinpoint the source of the voice. Some guy is standing in front of me, holding up my phone.
“Sorry, I just saw that you dropped this.” He holds the phone toward me, but just as I stretch out my hand to take it, he pulls it back and up out of my reach, grinning and chuckling.
Would it be over the line to commit two homicides in one day? I glare at him. “Oh my God, Bryan. You have no idea how much I am not in the mood for that right now.”
It strikes me then that I’m only pretty sure his name is Bryan. We’ve had classes together before. He doesn’t correct me, anyway.
“Ooh, sounds serious,” he says, still smiling. “What could possibly be upsetting a valedictorian like you a month before graduation? It’s not grades… did you fight with your boyfriend?”
I snatch the phone out of his hand just as the bell sounds overhead. I don’t even look back as I make a mad dash for the door of the classroom.
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Between the Lines
Teen FictionAn unexpected assignment in English class is about to change everything for Kendal and Braden. Or, What happens when two writers battle it out? Two characters, two points of view, two writers match their wits and their pens. What will happen?