Between the Lines

- 3 -

                                                                     Kendal

Until five minutes ago, Mrs. Buchanan was my favorite teacher. I knew I was taking a risk signing up for this fiction writing class in the second semester of senior year, because nothing about her classes is easy. It’s taken me everything I have to hold on to my A and my status as valedictorian.

What she’s taught me has been worth it, though. Her feedback on an essay got me a scholarship that will cover my first year of college, and the short story I wrote back in February is being considered for a magazine.

But this? A paired writing assignment for our final? I have to depend on someone else for a quarter of my grade? That would have been bad enough, but then she looks right at me and says, “Kendal, your partner will be Braden.”

And, I swear, I didn’t even know there was someone in the class named Braden, but then I look around, and there he is, raising an eyebrow at me, smirking in a way that reminds me of a vampire. And not the sexy kind, either. The guy who, less than ten minutes ago, stole my phone in the hallway and I called him Bryan. My face could  reheat the ever-present mug of coffee on Mrs. Buchanan’s desk.

“I guess I’ll just come over here and sit by you then.” For a second, I don’t even understand how Braden got over here, but when I look past my desk, everyone is moving around the room to sit with their new partners. I must have missed that part of the announcement.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to recover, wondering exactly how far off in outer space I’d been. “Might as well. There’s an empty seat.”

Avoiding making eye contact for as long as possible, I open my binder, looking for a clean page as he pulls over the desk and turns it so it’s facing mine.

Although it’s inevitable, of course, I really don’t want to look at him. My face has to be the color of a ripe tomato, or at least it feels that way. And though apparently I didn’t know him well enough to remember his name, I just know he won’t be able to resist commenting.

“Bet you’re wishing you’d gotten stuck with just about anyone other than me, right?” His words are unexpected enough to bring me out of my reverie, and I find myself doing exactly what I was avoiding – staring right into his green eyes.

“Uh…” yes, actually, though I can’t say that out loud, can I? “I don’t know.” I glance around the room, my eyes landing on Madison Kerger. “It probably could have been worse.” I am sort of trying to be funny, but it strikes me – too late – that this comment really isn’t any nicer.

But, somehow, he doesn’t seem to take any offense at it. Instead, his gaze follows mine, and he chuckles in a way that’s more friendly than threatening. “She still not over you stealing Kyle away from her?”

What the…? How did he even know about that? That whole nightmare had happened two years ago, but no, she still wasn’t “over it.” I don’t even know how to respond to that question, but I force what I hope is a giggle. “I suppose I could have made it work by telling her she can have him back if she wants to go to his grandmother’s stupid birthday dinner.”

He shrugs. “I think she likes his grandmother.”

I frown. “Are you friends with her?” Too late, I notice the twinkle in his eye. He’s playing me.

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