Hate You, Love You. - Chapter 118

”Have you heard from Phaedra?” Paris asks as we walk to lunch together. Well, it’s more like I’m dragging her to the lunch hall. I am so hungry I could eat a horse. I had only a bite of an apple for breakfast because I was running late and that extended to Sophie. I had her in school by 8:00am sharp and came in five minutes late to first period because of the early morning rush. Theo even got to school earlier than I did.

I got a firm reprimand from Mr Finkle about tardiness which is a plus for me because the old bat didn’t hand me a detention slip. I’d rather listen to him lecture me in front of the class than spend an hour and a half with him in a room.

Note to self: Never binge watch baby cats on Youtube when you have school in the morning.

”You’re closer to Easton that’s why I’m asking.”

”I have,” I affirm. ”She’s doing good and won’t be attending school for a while.” Phaedra is seven months along now which means she’s two months away from delivering my godchild. We talk on Instagram often, she sends me baby bump pictures (the baby’s so big now), and I talked to her yesterday on the phone.

From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she was really excited to be a mum. She doesn’t have a choice but to be excited because that bump is living and breathing proof that there’s a life inside her and bringing a new life into the world is a beautiful thing. Anyway, I’m happy for her. She and Easton are still going strong and she even said that they’ve discussed names for their little girl.

Yes, you heard right, they are having a little princess and I squealed so loud when she shared that bit of information with me. It was supposed to be a secret, only she, Easton and immediate family members know about it, but since I’ve been upgraded to godmother status, I get special privileges.

After the incident with Mariah at lunch, she decided that physical classes wouldn’t be the best for her and the baby and I agree. People in high school are mean and judgemental and I applaud her for summoning the courage to attend school during the first few months of her pregnancy. Arrangements have already been made with Principal Grande and she has been attending classes online. The SATs are next month and I worry because it is close to her due date but she assured me that she would be able to take the test remotely and be on track for graduation.

”How far along is she?”

”Seven months.”

”She’s about to pop then.”

”You have no idea,” I chuckle. Phaedra also complained about back pain and swollen feet, but I guess that’s normal when you’re close to your due date.

”Would she be able to make it in time for the exams?” We approach the noisy cafeteria and round the corner to our table. I flop down on the chair.

”She told me she would.” I take a quick peek at the notice board to see what we’re having. Pizza. ”She wants to graduate with the rest of the class.”

”I like her resilience.”

”Same.”

”And Easton?”

”I saw him in History.” I guess you could say I’ve been a little distracted with the happenings in my life. I haven’t made out time to check up on Easton to see how he’s doing and adjusting with the realization that anytime from now, he’d be a dad. I know it’s not the most ideal of situations and no one expects to be a parent in their teens, but things happen and it’s life. You just have to accept it and move the fuck on.

If Phaedra’s account is anything to go by, he’s handling things really well and he seems to really care about her. He wouldn’t have fiercely defended her against Mariah that day if he didn’t.

I still wonder how he found out about Mariah’s ”secret.”

”Don’t look now, but your boyfriend is heading this way.” Paris nods in Jason’s direction and he is actually making his way to our table. The rest of the squad have not arrived yet which is weird because Paris, Theo and I are usually the last to arrive.

The noise dies down and eyes follow him as he makes confident strides towards us. I bet they’re wondering why the ”King” is making a detour from the popular table to ours.

I drink him all in slow motion, from the roots of his hair, to his Adelaide uniform and blazer that clings to him like a second skindown to the sole of his feet.

Fuck, he’s handsome. He has always been handsome and I never allowed myself to really let that sink in till we started dating.

Anywho, he’s handsome and he’s all mine.

And his fan base is going to eat me raw because their king is no longer single.

He sees me and his eyes twinkle. No, I’m not making it up. I really did see a twinkle in those aqua blues and I squeal on the inside.

Shit, I need to act cool and not make a fool of myself. People are watching him and watching me too.

”Hey, Paris.”

”Jason,” she acknowledges and gives me a knowing smile.

”Hey, Princess.”

”Hi,” I squeak, almost breathless.

”You good?”

”Not really.” You’re standing so close to me in front of the whole school and I feel like I’m about to faint from breathlessness and a mini heart attack. My heart is beating at an unhealthy rate and I realize that it happens more often than not when I’m around him.

”Want me to make you feel better?” he whispers dangerously close to my ear.

”Yes.” I whisper back. I wasn’t going to say no. Not when he’s this close to me and I can smell his intoxicating perfume.

He has a mischievous glint in his eye and the next thing I know, his lips are on mine.

Holy Mother of all Mary’s.

He is kissing me in front of the whole school.

Our relationship is now out in the open for everyone to see.

Let that sick in.

It wasn’t a secret to begin with, but we haven’t actually showed public displays of affection in front of this crowd before. Literally, the whole school is in this ginormous lunch hall and they’re watching him mix our salivas together.

It’s a quick kiss though and before I fully get into it, he pulls away and gives me a peck on the cheek.

Cue my mortification.

I take a quick glance at Paris who is shocked but still manages to give me a thumbs up. With heat sprawled against my two cheeks I ask. ”Was that really necessary?”

”Just trying to show everyone that you’re my girl,” he answers cheekily. ”It’s no secret.”

”The whole school is staring.”

And their expressions are nothing short of comical. Some have their jaws slacked open to the point that I can see pepperoni bits in their mouth. Others, which are the girls who no doubt hate me right now, are burning holes in my head and whispering to their friends. Jason is their prized toy and he’s unavailable…again. I bet they’re  asking their friends what he sees in me.

I bet they’re looking for ways to belittle me because I’m not as pretty as they are. Jason has a type; he goes for the cheerleaders with the pon pons. His type is people like Mariah who have flawless skin and are a size zero. His type isn’t the ”unpopular but popular by association” black girl who is lucky to attend an upper echelon school because of a scholarship.

I know his type very well and I’m none of those things. If I’m being honest, sometimes I feel a little bit insecure because I don’t fit into the aforementioned categories. There’s always this voice in my head that tells me that I won’t last and he’d dump me like Mariah. What if I’m just a phase to him? A notch in his already full belt?

The last group of people are nodding their heads, not really knowing what to make of the PDA but accepting it anyways. After everyone minds their business, he says.

”We need to talk.” His expression turns from playful to serious and it makes me worry.

”Sure.”

My eyes scan the lunch hall. Getting my drift he shakes his head. ”Not here. I’m thinking we should head to the local Starbucks. We have about twenty minutes till the next bell rings and I’d make sure we’re back before then.”

I have a feeling I know what he wants to talk about. Two days ago, I had a very eye-opening chat with Heather Blunt and she told me that I’m more connected to the Blunt family than I think. It’s weird when you think about it. Patricia is the ex-girlfriend of my ex-boyfriend. Jason is Patricia’s step-brother and I’m dating him. Heather is Jason’s mum and she had an affair with my dad ten years ago.

”Let me get my bag.”

Lord, please don’t let this conversation go left.