"Jayda, hurry up." My dad yells from downstairs.

"I'm coming," I yell back.

I grab my rubber band, pull my hair into a ponytail, and then twist it into a bun. My mother would be happy that I pinned it up. Even though it's a messy bun, it's still pinned up and shows my face. Just how she likes it.

She hates it when it is down all over the place. I love it, though all my untamed curls fit me.

"Jayda!" He calls again.

I run over to my bed and grab my black hoodie, along with my bookbag.

I look at myself in the mirror one more time before running out of my room, down the stairs, and to the car. He starts up the car just as I get in and then pulls off.

"Who were you talking to last night?" He asks.

"A friend," I say more as a question than an answer.

He looks at me, shooked, "Friend?"

"Yes," I respond.

"Well, who is this friend?"

"Her name is Violet; she is new in town. You don't know her."

Oh

After about fifteen minutes, we finally reach the school; he pulls up across the street. "You're not going to drive me to the front?"

"No. I know how it must feel to have your parents drop you off, and you're a senior."

A small smile comes across my face. "Thanks."

I pull the car door handle. "Jayda," he says. I turn back around.

"I know you haven't been home long, but you're doing a good job, really," he says.

My heart aches at his words. I nod my head and close the car door. I was not doing good just yesterday. I cut, I relapsed. It's been six months since I've cut. I know it's only because of the facility, but I had still gone six months without cutting, and now I'm starting over. I'm back to square one, and my parents have no idea.

I spot Violet and Liam in front of the school. When Violet spots me, she smiles brightly and embraces me in a big hug.

"Hey, Liam," I say once she releases me.

"Hey." He looks at me then looks away.

"I thought you weren't coming," Violet says when I turn back to her.

"Sorry, my dad is just a little slow," I say even though it's my fault we were a little late. She laughs at my words.

"Come on," She says while wrapping her arm around mine.

...

"Class, take out your American history book. Do pages 45-52."

I reach into my bookbag and pull out the book. I turn to the pages and begin to read, while resting my head onto my hand and scanning the pages, reading all the annoying, partially accurate information about the civil war. I hear the classroom door open, but I don't look towards it.

"Nice of you to join us. Take a seat in front of Ms. King." my history teacher says.

The reason I sit in the back is so that I won't be bothered.

He just had to tell someone to sit back here. I see the chair move out from across me. I look up, and it's Ryder. I try to hide the shocked expression on my face. He didn't have this class yesterday. Why is he here now?

I look back down at my book. I don't need to pay attention to him. I need to do my work. He is already going to cost me my English grade. I don't need him to mess up my history one. I start playing with the black ring I have on. I'm twisting it with my thumb.

"What page are we on?" he asks. His voice is deep and empty; he speaks with no emotions, no feelings.

"45-52," I respond.

My phone buzzes, and I remove my hand from my head and reach into my pocket. It's Violet.

*Tell me I didn't just see Mr. Adams walk into your class. -Violet

*you did. I respond.

*OMGGGG where is he??? -Violet

*right in front of me.

*LMAO...ask him about the book. You have to get something down before class. -Violet

I look up at him, then look back down at my phone. He looks relaxed; maybe I should ask him.

*I don't know. I don't want him to go off on me in front of everyone.

*I highly doubt he will. -Violet

I click my phone off and put it back into my pocket.

"So, are you seriously not gonna help me with the book?" I whisper.

He looks up at me. "No, I'm not. I have better things to do." he snarls.

"Like?" Why would I ask him that? I don't care what he is doing.

"Like, fucking my girlfriend," he says, a little too loud.

My eyes go wide. I wasn't expecting him to say that. "I'm sorry, so is that more important than getting your work done?

"Yes, sex is more important to me than doing that dumbass work. You of all people should understand why." His eyes are burning into me. I roll my eyes, shake my head, and grab my books, moving to a different table.

...

"So, who wants to go next?" Mr. Brooks says.

It's now third period; I feel like all my classes with Ryder go by slow, and those without him are over fast. History seemed to never end even after I moved my seat, and yet Math was over in what felt like 20 mins. Now I'm back in English, my second class with him.

"Violet and James. How about you?"

Violet and James get up from their seats and stand in front of the class.

After five minutes of reading their first chapter and explaining to the class and Mr. Brooks, he claps his hands. "Amazing, I think I'm going to love this one the fact that being gay, let alone bisexual was something you didn't see back then; I can already see the types of problems that Romeo will have. I like how you guys didn't change the setting of the book. I really like that. You decided to deal with today's problem during that time. I love it, I really do." After his praises, Violet and James both take their seats.

"OK, we only have 10 minutes left in class. Everyone has gone, except for Ryder and Jayda. So come on up."

I was hoping there wouldn't be enough time for us to go. The class is silent; I can feel eyes on Ryder and me. "Guys?" Mr.Brooks says. I'm trying my hardest not to lookup. I'm so embarrassed. I didn't do it. I just couldn't complete it. I tried, but I came up with nothing. "Did you guys do it?" Mr.Brooks asks, looking at me then at Ryder. "So you do know that is an F, Mr.Adams? Which means no game on Friday."

The whole class burst into commotion. Even I am a little stunned, no game. He's the Quarterback. How can he not play? The bell rings, and everyone walks out.

"Jayda, Ryder, stay." Mr. Brooks says before we have a chance to leave. I tell Violet I will catch her at lunch. Mr. Brooks walks over to the classroom door and shuts it. "Come up here." He says. We both walk to his desk and stand in front of it.

"So why didn't you all do the assignment?" He asks. We both stay quiet. I don't want to say that he refused to do it with me. That is the truth, but I'm not a snitch.

"I was busy with practice," Ryder says.

"Mr.Adams, your grades are more important than sports. I know that's not how this school makes it seem, but it is. When it's time for college applications, you need teacher referrals, not coach referrals." Mr. Brooks turns to me. "And Jayda, it's unlike you to skip an assignment. I would have at least expected you to do it and put his name on it."

A small laugh comes from Ryder because that is what he said to do.

"I know I just couldn't think of anything; I wasn't--"

"It's fine." He says he looks at Ryder and me. "I'll give you guys till Friday. That should be enough time for you to fix whatever is going on with you two."

"Nothing is going on with us." Ryder blurts out.

"Yeah...right. If you don't give the paper to me by Friday before class is over. You won't be playing in the game."

"What about her?" He shouts.

Mr. Brooks lets out a breath. "Well, sadly, Jayda here will face the disappointment of doing the project without you." he smiles at his joke because me and him both know I won't be disappointed.

Ryder smacks his teeth before walking out of the classroom. I look at Mr. Brooks and smile before walking out of the class also. Ryder stops right in front of me, causing me to crash into him, the back of him. He turns around. "What's your number?" He abruptly askes me.

"What?" I heard him, but I just wanted to make sure I heard him correctly.

"Your number?" He says.

"What do you need my number for?"

"The project. I'm busy with practice every day after school, and after practice, I'm busy doing...other things," he smirks."So Ill just call you when I'm done with whatever I'm doing." he continues.

"Uh, OK." Is all I manage to say. I reach into my pocket and take out my phone. He snatches it from me and types in his number, then gives me back the phone.

"Don't call me." He says.

"Trust me; I wasnt going to,"