Dared

Chapter 03

Yeah, Game on.

I am a lot prepared to tackle the Kara problem when I set off from home on Tuesday. Despite my Mom gawking at me for the entire time, we sat down for breakfast, she did not say a word.

My hair is combed and I managed to put some cologne on from one of Dad's old bottles that Mom keeps around in their room. Don't ask me why. She is not the best role model when it comes to handling break-ups.

I walk to the locker room, scanning the crowd for Kara. She is at her locker, scrolling through Instagram when I pop my head in front of her, with a cheery, "Hey Kara!"

She jumps a bit, taken aback.

Eyes wide, she gives me a fierce look. "Gosh! You scared me," she hisses under her breath, looking around nervously.

"Sorry," I say

"You should go," she tells me.

"Why?"

I notice her eyes scanning my hair - I hope that she is impressed.

I combed it just to look good for her. It wasn't an easy feat taming that wild mess.

She clears her throat, still looking around, "You should."

"That's not fair," I say leaning against the locker next to her.

She heaves a tired sigh, opening her locker and pulling out a few books.

A strand of her dark hair flops towards her face. I think of swiping it away, but that is an awkward move. I don't want to scare her away.

She pushes her backpack into her locker and closes it shut, hugging a huge book to her chest.

"I'm waiting," I tell her when she turns to face me.

"Please don't. Just go," she gives me a fake smile, "Leave me alone."

"Can't do that," I say with a grin.

Kara Merrick. Damn, why does she have to be so difficult?

Her lips press into a thin line, giving me an annoyed look before walking away without another word.

Damn!

I follow her, pushing past a bunch of kids that she easily slips past. She heads to a classroom and slips inside.

Not Again! Come on!

I pull my phone out of my pocket. The screen lights up with a clock. I have five more minutes before the bell.

Without another moment of hesitation, I push the door to the class and step inside.

A bunch of kids who are already settled gives me a confused look. But I make my way to where Kara is sitting.

There is no one on the desk in front of her, so I plop down onto it. Kara watches me, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes wide.

"Hey," I grin at her.

"You're not in this class!" she says.

"Yeah, give me your address, and I will get out of this place."

"Very funny," she mocks.

"Haha," I say.

She heaves another of those tired sighs. "Look, Brian. If Dylan wants to get back with Hailey, tell him that she is not interested."

"Why are you pulling Dylan and Hailey into this?"

Does she know about the dare? No way!

"That is why you are doing this, right? Dylan asked you to do this so that he can weasel his way into Hailey's life through me - "

"No!" I cut her off, shaking my head, "No, this has nothing to do about Hailey or Dylan. It's about You. And Me."

She narrows her eyes at me, studying my face. I grin wider, hoping that helps. But no, she sighs again.

Clearly, she has had enough of me, but there is no way that I am going to back out of this now. No way!

Kara huffs, blowing a strand of her hair away from her face, "No," she gives me a firm look, "you can't have my address."

Before I can protest, the class falls unusually silent. I did not hear any bell, it can't be that school already began, right? Right?

Wrong.

When I turn around to face the front of the class, there is a balding man giving me a quizzical look.

"I've not seen you around this class before, Mr...," the teacher speaks addressing me.

"Jenkins. Brian Jenkins. Uh-no. I mean, I'm new," I tell him the first thing that springs to my mind.

"I wasn't told that I am to expect a new student in my class," he says, his eyes dropping to my football jersey.

Yeah, no 'new' student can get into the Football team, especially during the middle of the season. He knows that.

His eyes snap back to my face with a questioning look.

What can I say? That I am crashing his class so that I can get an address from Kara Merrick. Not so smart, in my opinion.

He raises both his eyebrows at my dumbfound silence.

"If you are changing classes in the middle of the year, you have to bring a permission letter from the admissions office," he says in a monotone, "I'll let it slide for today, but I want to see that tomorrow."

Crap!

Without waiting for my reply he turns to the board, scribbling a topic in huge letters.

Renaissance Art

"I hope that you are working on the essay due next week on the works of Leonardo Da Vinci-" he drones on.

Damn. I'm in the middle of a History Class?

What the heck did I get myself into?

I risk a glance at Kara over my shoulder to find her trying hard to hold in a laugh.

Great.

When all this is over, I'm going to kill Dylan and Noah