The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,112
me about her teachers and how her writing teacher was her favorite and last class of the day.
I was still searching when the bell rang. Moments later, several doors opened, and kids spilled out of them. None of them paid me any mind as they rushed past me. Eager to start the weekend, it didn’t take long for the hall to empty.
Still no Bee.
Giving up, I pressed my back against the wall and stared at the white tiled floor. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there before the door right in front of me opened, and a girl stepped into the hall. The first thing I noticed was the mint-colored ankle boots with a dark-brown heel. Her long, slim legs were covered in white floral tights, and I almost laughed knowing how much Bee would hate them. Whenever her mom forced her into them, she’d say they itched liked hell.
Dismissing the girl without checking out the rest of her, I straightened only to find that it was Bee all along. My heart started to pound as surprise, confusion, and joy rushed through me. I barely noticed the blank stare she gave me in return. Suddenly, I realized there was only a couple of feet separating us now rather than a couple of hundred miles. I rushed across the hall and swooped her up in my arms.
“You’re okay,” I said more to myself than to her. I’d begun to fear the worst. “Why didn’t you write me back?” When she said nothing, I set her down, worried that I held her too tight. I couldn’t help myself. I thought I might never get the chance again.
The second her feet touched the ground, I stumbled back. I stared at Bee in shock as her worried gaze searched the hall. We were completely alone.
And she’d shoved me.
“Bee?”
“My name is Barbette.” She started to walk away, but then she paused. “I hope you find who you’re looking for.” Was that regret in her tone? What the hell was going on?
I watched her walk—no, strut—away in those heels. When the hell had she learned to walk in those? And what the hell did she mean?
She was the one I wanted. She was the reason I’d come all this way and risked being grounded for the rest of my life. After this stunt, my parents probably wouldn’t even let me come back next summer. I had told myself it would all be worth it. Of course, I’d called Ever first. All he would ever tell me was that she was fine, so the moment he hesitated to tell me more, I knew something was up.
Finally getting my feet to move, I followed after her. She obviously hadn’t been paying attention if she thought I’d let her go that easily. I burst through the front doors of the school, ignoring the curious glances I got and searched the parking lot. A few feet away, I could see Barbette heading straight for a black Escalade. Why hadn’t she ridden her bike to school? An expressionless man dressed in a black suit stood at the open back door. I reached her before she could reach him.
“Bee, stop. Wait,” I pleaded as I grabbed her hand.
Turning her around, I shoved my fingers through the strawberry locks that had grown out, messing up her perfect curls. It wasn’t my first time seeing her hair like this, but she never lasted more than an hour out of her mother’s sight before shoving her hair underneath her favorite red baseball cap. At a loss, I pressed my forehead to hers. I’d grown a little faster than her in the year since I met Bee, but in those heels she had on, we were the same height.
“Please, talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong.”
I inhaled her scent, fearing it was the last time I’d hold her this close, but she no longer smelled the same—like the sun and the grass and the rain. I nearly choked on the heavy perfume soaking her skin.
“Please, let me go.” Her voice trembled, making me hold her tighter instead.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend before. I was afraid you’d say no. I was afraid, but I’m not anymore.” Lifting my head, I met her tearful gaze.
“Jamie,” she gasped.
Relief flooded my chest at hearing my name on her lips. For a second, I thought she’d forgotten me. Just as quickly, she ruined my hope.