The Jock & The Wallflower

Chapter 11: Bryson

Bryson’s POV

The second the bell rang, I knew I was in trouble.

And honestly? I was looking forward to it.

Most of the class filed out in the usual chaos of scraping chairs and chattering voices, but Avery stayed in her seat, methodically packing her things with the kind of deliberate precision that meant she was planning something.

I took my time gathering my own stuff, trying not to grin. When I finally stood up, she was waiting by the door. Arms crossed, eyes blazing, looking like she was ready to tear me apart with her bare hands.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all week.

"We need to talk," she said, her voice deadly calm.

"Do we?" I asked, shouldering my backpack. "Because I thought you preferred the silent treatment."

"Bryson, outside. Now."

She walked out of the classroom without waiting for my response, and I followed, trying to keep the satisfaction off my face. She was talking to me. Actually talking to me. After weeks of being ignored, this felt like winning the lottery.

She led me down the hallway to an empty section near the emergency exit, far enough from the main flow of students that we wouldn't be overheard. The moment we stopped walking, she spun around to face me.

"What the hell did you do?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," I said, leaning against the wall like I had all the time in the world. "I do a lot of things."

"Don't." The word cracked like a whip. "Don't you dare stand there and act cute. We both know this wasn't a random assignment."

"Cute?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think I'm being?"

"Bryson—"

"You know, this is the longest conversation we've had since you've been back. I'm starting to think I should do this more often."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "So you admit it."

"Yeah and it worked," I said with a shrug. "So really, I don’t see the problem.”

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious. You wanted the competition, I wanted to work with you. Win-win."

"Win-win?" She stepped closer, and I could see her brown eyes were practically sparking with anger. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to march back into that classroom and tell Mr. Kevinson that you can’t do this. Tell him you want to switch partners."

"Nope."

The simple word seemed to throw her off balance. "What do you mean, nope?"

"I mean no. Not happening. We're partners now, Avery. Might as well get used to it."

"I am not working with you."

"Yeah, you are." I pushed off from the wall, closing some of the distance between us. "Because as much as you hate me right now, you want that A even more."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? Then walk away. Drop out of the competition. I'll wait."

She glared at me, her eyes narrowed, but she didn't move.

"That's what I thought," I said.

"I'll ask to work alone."

"It's a partnership competition, Avy. Kind of defeats the purpose." I knew calling her Avy would piss her off even more. But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted more…anything but the silence.

The color drained from her face, then rushed back twice as red. "You don't get to call me that."

"Right. Avery, then." I tilted my head, studying her face. "You know, I have to say, I like this angry version of you."

"How nice that I amuse you."

"You have no idea."

She stared at me for a long moment, and I could practically see her brain working, trying to find another angle of attack.

"If you won’t fix this," she said finally.

“What?” I asked. “What are you going to do?” I dared her.

For a long moment, she stared at me. I watched as anger flared up in her until it dissipated like a calm after the storm. “I hate you,” she whispered.

The words should’ve hurt…but I knew they weren’t true.

I stepped closer to her, blocking her against the wall. “Then prove it. Prove that you do.”

We stood so close now I could feel her breath…My eyes traced her nose…her eyes..her lips. This was all too familiar.

She was all too familiar even though she had changed.

And I hadn’t touched her in so long. Not since then.

She continued looking at me, anger swimming in her eyes. “You’re not worth it,” she finally said.

Now that stung.

She pushed past me, turning to face me. “You’re not worth losing my grade over so let me make something clear. If you think this gives you some kind of opening, some chance to play whatever game you're playing, you're wrong."

"Who says I'm playing a game?" I shot back.

"Everything with you is a game,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

I shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just really need help with chemistry."

Her laugh was sharp and bitter. "Right. Because, you, Bryson Gray, did all of this just because you need help with chemistry."

"What can I say? I like to be thorough."

She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her shampoo, and her voice dropped to a whisper that was probably supposed to be threatening but just made me want to lean in closer.

"Here's what's going to happen if we do this. You're going to show up when and where I tell you. You're going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. And if you step one toe out of line, if you so much as breathe wrong, I will make your life a living hell,"she breathed. “I swear to God, Bryson.”

"Promise?"

The question clearly wasn't what she'd been expecting. "What?"

"You promise to make my life hell? Because honestly, Avery, any hell that involves spending time with you sounds like an improvement over the last two years."

She scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

"I've been told that before," I smirked, enjoying the irritated look on her face.

"Not a compliment."

I shrugged. "I'll take what I can get."

She backed away, shaking her head like she couldn't believe what she was dealing with. "First meeting is tomorrow after school. Library, corner table by the science section. Be there at 3:30 sharp, and come prepared to actually work."

"It's a date."

"It's not a date," she shot back.

"If you say so." I grinned at her. "Anything else, or do you still need me to stand here?"

She glared at me." You’re such an ass. Don't mistake this for any kind of forgiveness, Bryson. I'm doing this for me.” She was already walking away, but she threw the words over her shoulder. “The second this becomes more trouble than it’s worth, I'm done."

"Yeah, yeah." I called after her. “A date it is.”

I watched her disappear around the corner, and this time I didn't bother hiding my smile.

She could threaten me all she wanted. She could promise hell would rain down, set whatever rules she wanted, be as angry as she needed.

None of it mattered.

Because for the first time in two years, Avery Whitmore was talking to me. Really talking to me.

And if I had to endure her being mad at me, hating me, to get her to speak to me…I'd suffer through a lot worse for a lot less.