for the boys with Uncle Noah. Come on. I’ll text my mom. She said it’s fine. I just have to text her your address,” she says.
I nod and take her phone to enter the address. I know I’m skating on thin ice. I’ll have to get us to my house soon and we’ll have to work fast before my dad gets home.
I start for the bus stop, but Jordan places an arm on mine to stop me. She gives me that bright smile again, nodding her head toward the parking lot. My dick twitches in my pants from her simple touch and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.
“I have a ride. My driver, Shep, is waiting for me. Come on.”
Oh yeah, I forgot that all the Blacks have cars at their beck and call. Some of the older ones drive their own cars to school. The others arrive in SUVs and shiny expensive cars.
Every time I see them come to school it reminds me that I’ve only been in their world because of a scholarship. A scholarship that gets my ass kicked almost daily and not only by the kids at school who hate having me here.
I’m a lot smarter than I look. Or at least that’s what my father says. My mother took a chance when my kindergarten teacher told her to have me tested. I’ve been getting a free ride to places like this ever since she did.
When we walk to the shiny Mercedes and the driver opens the door for us, it’s one more reminder of how far out of my league Jordan is. She’s gorgeous, super smart, and rich. At fifteen, Jordan is a grade ahead. Yeah, I’m smart, but I’ve never been skipped a grade.
I slide into the back of the car beside her thinking that in all my sixteen years, I’ve never been inside a car that cost anywhere near this much. Turning, I watch Jordan put lip gloss on her full lips. When she turns those amazing eyes on me, I don’t feel like the bummy kid at school.
It’s like Jordan sees more. She sees me. That’s one of the things I love about her.
“Stop looking so nervous, Weston,” she says with a small giggle. “I promise not to ruin the project. I plan to do my share. I’m not like those slackers in our class.”
“I know. I don’t think you’re going to slack.”
“Honestly, I was so glad you were assigned as my partner. Swear to God, if I would have gotten one more assignment with a partner that did nothing but pick their nose the entire time while I did all the work, ugh,” she says with a grimace.
The way her little nose wrinkles is adorable. I wish I could lean in and kiss her. I’ve daydreamed about it so many times over the years. Each year Jordan becomes prettier and prettier.
“Shit,” I say when my phone rings in my pocket.
The smile drops from her face and her lips flatten. I don’t have time to analyze what just happened. I rush to take the phone from my pocket.
Boy do I sigh in relief when I see it’s my mom informing me that my dad will be coming home late. The tightness in my chest releases. Great, not only will I avoid getting in trouble, we’ll have time to really work on the project.
I turn to Jordan and she’s now looking out of the window. Something caused her mood to shift. I sneak a sniffle at my armpits.
Not so bad.
Feeling awkward, I start to fidget with the sleeves of my shirt. I breathe the biggest sigh of relief when we pull up in front of my home. That is until Jordan steps out of the car.
She looks around the trailer park and I want to vomit. I’m sure her home looks nothing like this. The cute sneakers on her feet probably cost more than everything I have on.
I’ve had the same five uniform shirts since last year. I’ve been literally threatened not to grow anymore. Too bad my body hasn’t planned on listening to that.
“We don’t have to do this today,” I murmur.
She turns to me with her brows drawn. “What?”
“We can do this another day. You know at your place or something. I’ll try to get permission—”
She grabs my hand and tugs me forward. “Come on. We’re wasting time. I have so many ideas. We’ll need all the time we can get to plan and execute by Friday,” she says