A Cardiac Mistake

Chapter 5

"You good?"

Dexter watches me as I exit the bus warily, my fingers clutching tightly to the railings. I'm shaky, and definitely no good with busses, so when I'm off the vehicle, I clutch tightly to his outstretched arm and sigh heavily.

"Let's walk next time?" I request, still leaning on him.

"We got to leave at seven in the morning next time then," My new step-brother says, smiling as he pulls so I'm standing straight. "Oh, come on, Stanford. Are you really giving up because of some bus ride? School hasn't even started."

I glance up at Dexter, squinting my eyes. Before we were dating, we were always challenging one another with petty competitions: archery, grades, summer classes, games, all sorts of things. One competition that was never ending was the grades in the cram school we both attended, and had met in.

The competition was one reason why we became friends, and then started dating.

"Sadly, even if I'm a new student here," I mutter, now walking alongside him. "I think even with this nauseous feeling, I'll beat you and get that position again of being top one."

"Dream on, Stanford," Dexter replies haughtily. "Dream on."

I feel myself tense as I walk past the gates of the school. Philip had explained to me earlier that the school I was attending, was the same school Dexter and Taylor was in. I gripped my elbows with both my hands, hugging myself.

"This is my first time attending a new school," I mutter.

Dexter sighs on the other hand. "I can't believe I'm attending the same school as you," He said softly, hoping Logan who was just walking behind us a few paces, wouldn't hear. "Last summer we were just having cram classes together, now it's school."

I jut his elbow, laughing. "I beat you in all our cram classes, I can't wait to beat you here."

"As if, I'm better than before," He chuckles.

"Whatever. You always piss me off whenever we compete," I whine, trying to hit him.

"I am to piss you off," My ex-boyfriend teases.

"Shut up, Dexter."

"You two seem awfully close," Logan notices, peering in between us. "Maybe it's the age? Or maybe Dex was hitting on you last night and you actually flirted back? I can't believe this."

"No, no way." I denied, rolling my eyes. "There's no way I'd ever go out with him."

"You did once," Dexter mumbled, and I slapped his arm.

"What did he say?" Logan asked me.

"That I would if I got to see his abs," I lied.

Logan started laughing. "That's Dexter all right."

We arrived at the hallways minutes later, and I watched Dexter claim his schedule. Logan stood beside me, and I actually noticed the number of students marching in and greeting the Greene brothers.

"You've got a lot of friends."

Logan had just greeted another pair, and Dexter looked at me, smiling. "It's normal here. Especially since it was an all boy's school before. Kind of hard not to know everyone when it's a small school."

"I have to get going," Logan interjected, handing me a note. "This is my number and class just in case you lose Dexter in the classes. He always cuts."

I glance at my ex-boyfriend, raising an eyebrow.

"It's the first day," He scoffs. "I'm not cutting."

"Did you get her schedule?" Logan asks, shifting the topic.

Dexter shook his head. "We might have to get it at the office, so I'll go with her to claim it. I think it's a nice idea to let her meet the dean too, while we're at it."

Logan bids his good bye and we're walking down the hall when he stops at the end of it. Dexter knocks on it once, and someone ushers him to come in right away. We step inside the room, into the Dean's office.

"Good morning, sir." Dexter greets with a wave of his hand.

A young gentleman stood at the center of the room, holding some papers in his hand. He turns to face Dexter, grins, and greets us both. "Good morning. Is something the matter? Who's this?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Dexter explains first.

I almost smack him instinctively.

"Don't worry," Dexter explains as if I asked him the question. "The dean is a friend of mine."

"Any top student of the school is a friend of mine," the Dean assures, smiling. Dexter has that silly, winning look on his face, and I hold in the urge to kick him again. "Are you the new transfer student?"

"Yes sir," I nod admirably. "Thank you for having me."

"Your name?"

"Sam Standford-"

"Greene," Dexter interrupts.

I blink once, then twice, then bite my lower lip and correct myself. "Sam Greene," I mutter, the name foreign to my ears. Even Dexter has a weird expression on his face when the name escapes my lips.

The dean chuckles behind his table. "It's alright, use whichever surname you like."

I could see Dexter sag his shoulders. "Anyways, we came here to get Sam's schedule."

The head of school nods his head, tapping his fingers to his chin. "Ah, right, right. Please, take a seat and I'll look for it right now." He said, sitting behind his desk. "I believe I printed your schedule early this morning."

Only seconds passed when he procured a brown envelope. He glanced down on the document and read, "Samantha Stanford. I guess you're still Sam Stanford here."

When I hear him say that, I breathe in a sigh of relief.

It felt weird hearing the name "Sam Greene" or "Samantha Greene", especially if the teachers would start using that name once I attended their classes. But hearing that I would still be "Samantha Stanford" was a relief.

"Thank you sir," I told him, taking the envelop in my hand.

Pulling it out of its packet, I read the first few classes I knew: "French?"

"What?" Dexter had his mouth open. "No way!"

The dean raised an eyebrow. "Is something the matter? Are you that bad at it?" He chuckles. "I'm afraid changing classes is impossible right now, so you'll have to learn that as quick as possible to pass senior year. Dexter's in your class."

My ex-boyfriend started scratching his face, an expression of foreboding on it.

"It's not that I'm bad at it, sir," I reply with a smile. "I had lessons before."

"Lessons my ass-" Dexter muttered.

"You already did? That's good then," The dean replied. "I don't see why Dexter must have that crazy reply then. He acted like you'd fail miserably in the class."

"Scratch that," Dexter cried. "She might even perfect it. She's a natural at French!"

"You are?" The dean inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"French is like a second language at her!" Dexter exclaims. "Her father used to work in France."

"I only stayed there for a summer," I rolled my eyes at his frustration. "And I wouldn't say it's like a second language. There was nothing else to do since my dad was always busy, so I just took language curriculums while I was staying."

Without warning, he threw a question at me. "Comment bon êtes-vous?" How good are you?

"Pas bon du tout , monsieur." Not that good at all, sir. I said with a smile.

"Vraiment? Dexter semble penser le contraire." Really? Dexter seems to think otherwise.

"I never took French," Dexter complained, hiding his face in his hands. "So I have totally no idea what you're asking or saying, even if you did just add my name in your conversation. I've only had basic German!"

I laugh at Dexter's response.

"Well, you seem knowledgeable enough," the dean agrees. "I guess I'll see you soon enough?"

Dexter and I glance at the clock. We had minutes before classes began. I shake the dean's outstretched hand as we both rise from our seats. "It was nice meeting you, sir. Thank you again for the schedule."

"You and Dexter have first period together," He said with a wink.

As soon as we head out, the bell rings up front but still, Dexter doesn't run. "First period is biology," He said. "The teacher in that class rarely arrives early so we're still good. Give it five minutes, I think. Do you want to use the washroom first?"

I shake my head. "I'm good."

"After biology, what class do you have?"

I take a quick look at my schedule. "It says here Contemporary Lit, yours?"

"Calculus," He responded. Dexter takes the schedule from my hand and scans down the list. "You've got Clubs as your last subject, and French before it. So we have the same classes for French and biology only. I have swimming as my club this semester."

"So clubs..." I start, glancing at him, waiting for him to complete my sentence.

My ex-boyfriend raises an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, clubs. You get to choose whichever you want in PE. We have multiple choices here, but sadly, no archery." He juts his fists in the air. "One class down, one step away from the top rank in our grade."

I roll my eyes at him. "Sore loser," I wanted to say.

"There's library work," He adds to his conversation earlier. "Oh! And the Health Committee."

That class rings to my ears. Health Committee. Something similar to medicine. Even if I weren't into medicine or science like mother or Max or Kate, I wanted to learn more about it. Might even help with my case.

"I think the Health Committee sounds good."

Taking back my schedule, we turn at the corner and I can see the classrooms. "Are you still training for archery in Southampton?" He asks all of a sudden.

"Yeah," I answer, nodding my head. "Every weekend."

"Is Max coming to pick you up then?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Look, just because you know something's happened between Max and I doesn't give you the chance to think every time I head to Southampton, Max will be one reason."

"Well, he might," My ex-boyfriend rolls his eyes. "So is he?"

"No," I flatly respond to his question. "He isn't picking me up."

"Damn," Dexter replies, and I'm surprised. "What? Just because Max and I aren't as close as you two, doesn't mean I can't give him a piece of my mind."

"Dexter!"

My ex-boyfriend raises his hands while shaking his head. "I'll have you know you still did it with him, even when we only had just broken up that morning. I still consider it as cheating, babe."

"Whatever Dex," I mutter, clutching tightly to my regime. "Whatever."