Plot Twist: He Likes YOU

Shay-James Farring: The First Mistake

Cassidy was walking in the break between classes when she heard her name.

"Cassidy!" Emy waved. "Over here! I want to introduce you to the boy." She lowered her voice to a whisper.

Oh goody.

Two days after Cassidy had made it clear that breaking up with Carter should be thought through, and might not be the best idea, Emy had done exactly that.

And two days after that, she'd begun texting Cassidy non stop about a boy who was sweet and smart and a darling. He'd asked her on a coffee date the night before, and Cassidy had been woken up by endless text notifications at ten telling her all about it.

"Ah. The one you went stargazing with? Coffee boy?" Cassidy asked.

She was actually pretty curious to know who this boy was that could possibly be this good.

Emy nodded and grabbed a boy's hand, pulling him away from the group.

"Cassidy, this is Shay-James. Shay-James, this is my friend Cassidy."

Shay-James blinked twice before actually shrinking back a little.

Rude. Cassidy was not that mean of a leader.

"Shay-James?" Cassidy was suprised.

"You two know each other?" Emy asked, also sounding suprised.

Even though Cassidy had mentioned him literally the week before.

Even though Cassidy had Shay-James in two of her eight classes this semester.

"Um, sort of." Cassidy said.

Shay-James was very unhelpful and stayed quiet.

As usual.

"That's so great! I love it when my friends get along!" Emy exclaimed.

Cassidy winced at the second-grade level phrasing.

"Riiiight. So. I'm just going to go to class now. See you later, Shay-James."

Like, in 5 minutes.

When history starts.

Cassidy tried to keep her group focused, but she was already herself mildly distracted.

Emy was going out with Shay-James?

Shay-James?

Shay-James Farring?

Emy studied him.

He wasn't tall.

He was probably the exact same height as Emy. Maybe an inch taller. And Emy was not tall.

He reminded her of an introverted puppy with his big terrified eyes and floppy curly hair.

Definite boy-next door vibes.

But mixed with small labradoodle.

He was a model student.

Got all of his work done.

Never got in trouble.

Didn't make a lot of noise.

Ever.

Cassidy wasn't too impressed because the only sound she'd ever heard had been a laugh at one of the dumb jocks mildly sexist jokes during one of their team meetings, or that one time that he'd hesitantly suggested that she not do the thing that she had already done because it would lose them points.

Why couldn't Emy pick someone else?

She literally attracted every guy.
So really all she had to do was pick and choose.

"Group Japan, what have you decided?" Mr. Gurshed boomed.

Mr. Gurshed was not Cassidy's idea of a good teacher. His lessons were literally just textbook readings, and his tests were based on opinionated ideas in order to get the right answer.

He was a short man, and he was one of the two football coaches. The other was a math teacher who had been just as bad at teaching algebra as Mr. Gurshed was at teaching history, but at least he had been nice.

Mr. Gurshed had a passive aggressive hatred of Cassidy.

And he loved any dumb meathead who played a sport.

So when he asked, "What have you decided?", Derek snickered and muttered loudly, "That Cassidia is a grade-A bitch."

And because he was on the football team, Mr. Gurshed pretended he didn't even hear that.

And Shay-James gave her a sympathetic look, but didn't stand up in her defense.

Cassidy officially hated her group.

She'd gotten 3 jocks. More than any other team. She'd gotten Shay-James, a nerd who picked his nose and looked at her creepily, and one other girl who had opted out for a solo assignment on Day 1.

That's what Cassidy should have done.

They were already behind because they had less people, and her group refused to do anything helpful.

Cassidy shook her head and Mr. Gurshed smirked at her lack of answer, as though it proved that she was an idiot.

"Alright, moving on...."

Cassidy pulled her book out underneath the table and opened it discreetly, tuning out the classroom noise.

She already knew the ending, but re-reading tragedy was better than watching it.

"Ms. Clemonte, please don't text in class. I hate when people show disrespect by using technology innapropriately."

"I wasn't-" Cassidy defended.

"Please don't waste my class time with excuses. You're holding up the class."

Cassidy shut her book with a slam, making it obvious that her phone wasn't out, before tucking it into her backpack and staring defiantly at Mr. Gurshed.

Shay-James flinched at the sound and dropped his pencil.

The jocks next to her snickered.

And in her head, Cassidy took them out in violently graphic ways.

Even stupid Shay-James.