The Perfect Balance

Chapter 5

We enter the large school as a group before dispersing without a single word. As I arrive in the hall where my locker is, I notice Diana digging through her belongings in search of something. I approach her with a quirked brow. "What are you looking for?" I inquire.

"My stupid history textbook," she complains.

"Well, I can't help you there. I don't have that class," I tell her.

"Yeah, I know, Ms. 16 AP Classes," she remarks and I shrug.

"I only have 3," I reply matter-of-factly. I open my locker and gently put away some of my books. When I close it, I prop myself against it and watch my friend struggle to find her book.

"I bet you'd have more if you weren't required to have a study hall," she replies. Though her statement is true, I don't want to prove her right and agree so I rack my brain for a reason as to why taking on more advanced placement classes wouldn't be a good thing.

"No because then I wouldn't have time to work," I counter.

"You barely do," she notes. "You study for six hours a day on the days you don't work." I simply shrug in response. I mean...she's not wrong.

"I'm content with it," I confess.

"When was the last time we hung out?" she asks.

"Yesterday," I respond.

"Not at work, Ri," she replies as she discovers her textbook hidden deep under a bag of gym clothes. I'm not even sure if she has gym this year. Wrinkling my nose slightly, I watch her move a single tube sock from under the textbook's cover. How'd her locker get that dirty in the span of two weeks?

"Hm..." I think. When was the last time we hung out?

"Exactly," she answers, cutting off my thinking period. "It's been a while."

"We see each other all the time in school..." I trail. We have a class a day together and then we sit together at lunch, so it's not really all the time. "And then we see each other at work."

"Yeah, but we can never just sit and hang out," she replies. "And Ri, when was the last time you even interacted with a boy, by choice, who doesn't identify as your brother or a project partner?"

"I talk to J.D. whenever he comes in," I mumble, referring to a regular customer that pops into the bookstore once a week to say hey.

"Don't get me started on J.D," she practically hisses. "He's everything you want in a guy and more and you won't even give him the time of day. He's practically in love with you and you don't even notice."

"Diana..." I say with a sigh. J.D. doesn't like me. She assumes that any guy that talks to me by choice must be in love with me simply because no guys do.

"Fine. Forget about J.D," she exhales quickly. "I think my point is proven-."

"Actually," I start, biting my lip, "I talked to a boy this morning."

She immediately turns to look at me. "Who? About what?"

"You probably don't know him," I tell her with a shrug. This is a big school and our class count alone is about three hundred, give or take.

"What's his name?" my best friend asks eagerly, begging to hear my boring recount of a casual conversation. It wasn't even a conversation. I asked him two questions and barely got responses.

"Diego," I reply and she furrows her eyebrows in thought, tilting her head. Her thick, coarse hair flops to the side, causing a wave of deep brown to follow her head.

"Last name?" she asks. I think for a moment. I know this.

"Ruiz, I think..." I trail and she snorts.

"Come on, if you're going to lie, be more realistic," she replies with a laugh.

"I'm serious," I tell her and she looks at me with a dubious expression. "He's staying at my house for a month. He officially moved in on Saturday."

"Do you have any idea what realistic is, my friend?" she asks me with a playful grin on her face.

"I'm serious, Diana!" I respond, growing irritated. "My dad and his dad are friends."

"Okay, is the president staying at your house too?" she asks with a smirk. "And the first lady?"

I glare at her with crossed arms. "I'm really serious."

"Look, he's coming this way. If he's staying at your house, then talk to him," she insists and I turn around to see him approaching with a cup of coffee. His free hand brushes through his wet, black hair.

"What do I say?" I ask her and she shrugs.

"I don't know. You better think of something quick because he's walking pretty fast," she states and I turn to see him breezing past us.

"Diego!" I call and he stops walking, backtracks and turns around to look at me. We make eye contact for a few seconds and I struggle to find something to say to him. When something remotely plausible comes to mind, it flies from my mouth at lightning speed to make up for the silence filled gap. "Are you going to class?"

"If I wasn't, would I be in school?" he asks with a small smirk on his lips.

"Where else would you go?" I reply quietly and he chuckles airily before sipping his coffee.

"Your house is in walking distance, you know?" he rejoins.

"How would you get inside?" I ask. I don't think my parents gave him a key.

"Your mom told me where the spare key is," he responds as he holds eye contact. "And even if she didn't- you guys don't have an alarm system and I left one of the windows in my room open."

"It's on the second floor," I counter.

"There's a tree close by," he replies. Before I can respond, the bell rings and he narrows his eyes slightly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to class before I get marked tardy. Maybe you should tear a page out of my book and do the same."

I turn to look at Diana to see her eyes wide and her jaw agape. "You were serious," she whispers before slapping my arm repeatedly. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Ow," I mutter, shying away from her touch.

"Oh my gosh! He's staying at your house! This is just like in the books you read!" she sighs in delight. "Maybe he's the guy who'll spark up your love life! You know how you want to create your own romance story? Maybe he'll be the male protagonist!"

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," I tell her, grabbing both of her hands and putting them at her sides. "He has a bad reputation. I don't want to get involved with him any more than I have to."

"Even better! He's a bad boy!" she squeals.

"I don't like bad boys. I want a boy I can study with and talk to about school," I clarify and her smile immediately falls and is replaced with a look of disgust.

"Do you really need to talk about school more than you already do?" she asks. "Loosen up! Live a little!"

"I am living. I wake up. I eat. I breathe. I sleep," I tell her.

"Go out! Do something crazy! Maybe some illegal stuff," she whispers the last part. As tempting as 'doing something crazy sounds,' I wouldn't even know how to go about it.

"My dad's a cop," I reply with narrowed eyes. "I don't think that'd go over too well."

"He doesn't have to know!" my friend retorts.

"Look," I start, unsure if the words I'm about to say are true, "he's not the type of guy I'm into. Besides, I'm not looking for a relationship or anything like it at the moment."

"It doesn't need to be a relationship. You could always just hook up. He's right across the hall if you need him," she says with a wink and I start backing up, slowly shaking my head.

"I'm not even going to reply to that. I'm heading to class. I'll see you in Psych," I tell her, listening to her laugh loudly as I walk down the hall.

I arrive to class barely a minute before the late bell. As I'm walking down the aisle towards my seat, a familiar voice speaks from beside me. "You really wanted to make sure I was in class, huh?" I turn to find Diego stretched out in the seat directly in front of my usual one.

"If you bothered to show up, you'd know I was in this class too," I retort as I sit down, pulling out my notebook and pencil case. His eyebrows raise as he looks at me. "No offense or anything," I add quickly as an afterthought, which earns an eye roll from him.

Just as I'm about to ask why he hasn't been coming to class, Mrs. Jeffries begins handing out papers for the day, starting on our side of the class. As she reaches Diego, she looks at him in slight surprise. "Glad to see you showed up to class today, Mr. Ruiz," she greets him.

"Can't say it was my choice," he mumbles quietly and I clear my throat before greeting the teacher.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jeffries," I smile, accepting the paper.

"Good morning, Orion," she returns the smile. As she moves on to the people behind us, Diego turns around.

"'Good morning, Mrs. Jeffries,'" he mocks as he tilts his head to the side. "You probably have an A+ in this class already. Do you really need to kiss up?"

I narrow my eyes at him and he smiles in a smug manner. Mrs. Jeffries makes her way back to the front of the class and starts her lesson before I can respond. I simply go with a quick and sharp nudge to the back of his chair with my foot. His seat jerks forward and he turns around and looks at me with narrowed eyes. I cough and point to the teacher, which gets me one last glance from him before he turns back around.