Other Fan Fiction ❯ I'll Take You Away ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3

 

What was I supposed to do? I knew that Trevor liked me, as confirmed by my trustworthy best friend Becky, so what was I expected to do about it? Go over and confess that I felt the same way? And what about yesterday when he told Jennifer that he didn't like me? Maybe he liked me before but is now over it? If that was the case, I couldn't admit to him or anyone else my feelings. I had to play it safe, test the waters for sharks because no one wants to be eaten alive.

 

I thought all of this over as I sat at the back of the classroom of my fourth period history class and stared at the back of Trevor's head who was two seats in front of me in the next row over, chatting animatedly to Matt who had just finished passing another note to Becky who was currently reading it as if it were a New York Time's Bestseller.

 

“Excuse me, class, if you'll please quiet down,” requested Mrs. Turner from the front of the classroom. She was holding a stack of papers, which made me anxious. “I'm going to pass out the grading rubrics and instructions on your group projects.”

 

The simultaneous groan from the class was perfectly timed and was quickly followed by the fierce scowl set into the wrinkled face of our graying schoolteacher as she passed out the papers. Heather Ryan raised her hand.

 

“Yes Ms. Ryan?”

 

“How many people are in a group?”

 

“Two, and I'm picking them for you.”

 

Another groan and I felt my stomach drop. There was only one person in this class that I would ever be able to work well with while doing a group project and that was Becky and the chance that we would actually get paired together was slim. Very slim.

 

I grudgingly took the papers handed to me by Mrs. Turner and briefly scanned them. From what I could gather we were required to re-enact in a video or in class, an important event that affected our country. I sighed. This was a way harder project than I wanted.

 

“If you have any questions, speak to me after class. The instructions are pretty self-explanatory, I think. Now, I'll sort you into you're groups. Brittany Abbot, you're partnered with Fred Ackwood.”

 

She went on and on, pairing students together. It was by the third pairing that I finally noticed the pattern. She was going down the class roster, pairing us alphabetically. My insides froze, as I looked frantically about the room trying to remember all of the students whose last names began with `M'. There were three: me, Becky, and…Trevor.

 

Madison, Miller, Mitchell. I sighed in relief. If everything went right I'd be paired with either Becky or whoever was before me…at least it wouldn't be Trevor. I wasn't ready to deal with being alone with him yet.

 

“Raven Madison you'll be working with…” Mrs. Turner's eyebrows creased as she studied the list. “Trevor Mitchell. And Becky Miller, you'll be paired with Regina Nelson.”

 

Trevor turned around in his seat and smirked at me triumphantly. My hand shot up into the air. “Mrs. Turner, I object.”

 

She looked at me over her wire-rimmed spectacles, her face expressionless as if she didn't expect anything less from me. “I'm sorry Ms. Madison, but I'm not budging. You're working with who I assigned as your partner and that will be the end of it.”

 

“That's fine but I'm not supposed to be working with Trevor, Regina is. Her name is next to his, not mine,” I explained, hoping that she would apologize for her slip-up and change my partner.

 

“Ms. Madison, I'm sorry but no one else gets to choose their partners and neither do you. It shouldn't matter if I paired you with Trevor or Becky, either way you should accept the situation.”

 

“But the thing is, I'd love to work with Becky,” I pleaded. I almost stood up in my seat, I felt so determined to find a new partner, anyone else but Trevor.

 

“And that is exactly why I paired you with Mr. Mitchell. I want you to get some work done, not fooling around with your best friend.” She glanced at me one last time before she continued pairing up the rest of the class. I groaned dramatically and dropped my head into my arms. This was going to be a nightmare. It wasn't that I didn't want to work with Trevor because I didn't like him because that was a complete lie. But seriously, it was going to be so awkward now that I knew how he feels about me or at least once felt. Then again, this could be the perfect chance for me to discover how he feels now.

 

“Ok, please move so you and your partner can work together for the remainder of the period,” ordered Mrs. Turner. I glanced at the clock. The rest of the period was ten minutes.

 

“Hello partner,” Trevor greeted like a cowboy as he slid into the desk next to mine. Seeming unhappy with the whole two feet of empty space between us, he picked his desk up and moved it until it was adjacent to mine, the legs of his chair screeching uncomfortably across the beige tiled floor. I folded my arms across my chest and grimaced at him although on the inside, I was shaking with anxiety.

 

“Go ask Mrs. Turner for a different partner, she likes you,” I ordered. Even though I said it and half meant it, the thought of losing this chance to spend time with Trevor made me regret my words a little.

 

His green eyes seemed to darken a little and his smirk faltered the tiniest bit but besides that, his face remained smug and of course, oh so gorgeous. “But I don't want a different partner Raven.” The words rolled off his tongue like a practiced line repeated just the right amount of times until he could pronounce each word perfectly to achieve the desired affect in the girl it was aimed towards, that girl right now being me. And the thing was, it did work. His words planted butterflies in my stomach and I suddenly felt as if I was on a roller coaster and that at any moment, we'd take a wrong turn or a sudden unexpected plunge and I'd puke my guts out all over my desk.

 

I threw up words instead. “Bull-freakin-crap Trevor.” I was through with his lies, with him leading me on. Every time I looked at him I remembered what he had said to Jennifer Warren yesterday and the raging dragon inside of me awoke and breathed fire, igniting every fiber of my being with a fiery inextinguishable anger.

 

I heard him sigh beside me but I didn't look at him to read his expression because I was too busy trying to focus on what Heather Ryan was saying to Mrs. Turner at the front of the classroom.

 

“…please. You know how much Trevor and Raven fight and I really don't think it's very fair to pair them together. Brian,” she pointed to the short fat, glasses wearing nerd sitting in the corner reading a manual on Dungeons and Dragons. “He would be more than willing to work with Raven. I don't mind working with Trevor, we get along great.”

 

I couldn't believe my ears or my eyes as I watched Mrs. Turner actually consider what Heather Ryan had said while just a few minutes ago, she hadn't budged the least for me. It was so unfair. She opened her wrinkled, maroon painted mouth. “Trevor Mitchell, come here please.”

 

“I miss you already,” he whispered to me before standing up from his desk and walking to where Mrs. Turner was seated with Heather. Inside, I was in turmoil. Heather's face brightened visibly as he approached them and a sudden wave of jealousy hit me full force and I knew that regardless about my previous thoughts, no matter the fact that I liked Trevor and he made me nervous, no matter what he had said about me yesterday, and no matter the fact that working with him would be near impossible there was one thing I was suddenly certain of and it took me seeing Heather's fake tanned face smiling toothily at Trevor for me to realize it. He's my partner and she can't have him.

 

I stood from my desk and made my way towards them, listening to their conversation as I waited for the right moment to make my entrance and pounce.

 

Mrs. Turner gestured towards Heather as she looked up at Trevor who was standing in front of her desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a resigned look on his face. He wasn't smirking. “I've changed you're partner. You'll now be working with Ms. Ryan here, she says you two are friends so it shouldn't be a problem.”

 

I saw Trevor go rigid as his eyes darted to Heather's smiling face and he grinned half-heartedly at her but his smile didn't reach his eyes. That was my cue. In two strides, I darted forward and latched my hand onto the soft fabric of Trevor's blue sweater, pulling his sleeve like a leash.

 

“No way, I think Heather should just `accept the situation' and go back to her own partner because Trevor is mine,” I growled, glaring at Heather. My words wiped the smile off of her face and I knew she understood the double meaning behind my declaration and couldn't wait to go running to Jennifer Warren after the bell rang to tell her how I had just hinted my feelings for Trevor. Great.

 

“I guess I'm taken. Sorry Heather,” Trevor said not sounding sorry at all as he stretched his arm across my shoulders and lead us away.

 

“Whatever,” I heard her grunt but I didn't pay any more attention to her because the bell had just rung and I was wrestling my way through the clumps of conjoined desks to retrieve my stuff, losing Trevor along the way. As I rushed out of the classroom, one of the last ones out, I smacked right into someone on my way out the door.

 

I blinked away the stars and shook my head. Trevor was standing there, waiting; our project papers clenched in one hand and his other hand now on my shoulder. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” I said curtly, instantly feeling like a jerk for being so brash.

 

Trevor held up the papers. “I have soccer practice almost every night during the week so the only time we'll have to work on this is over the weekend meaning tomorrow and Sunday. So what time will you be over at my house?”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Who said I was going to sacrifice my weekend to spend time with you?”

 

He smirked, of course. It was our little game and he enjoyed every second of it and the thing was…so did I. To anyone else, it sounded as if we loathed each other but it was an unspoken secret between Trevor and I. Fighting was our way of telling each other how we really felt without all the awkwardness. We both knew how to read between the lines.

 

“Of course you want to spend time with me, why else would you yank me out of Heather Ryan's oh so willing clutches? If Mrs. Turner wasn't there you probably would've clawed her face off,” he murmured, stepping closer to me and twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. I swallowed the lump in my throat that was blocking anything witty from making it's way out of my mouth. I didn't know what to say.

 

He dropped his gaze so that he was looking down and my heart began beating nervously as he stepped even closer to me. I could feel his breath falling softly on the skin of my exposed collarbone. “This is pretty,” he said softly, bringing his fingers up to toy with my black lace choker, his fingers tickling the skin on my neck. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end.

 

“Th-thanks,” I stuttered stupidly, blushing as his eyes darted back to mine. I looked away. Why did I have to act like a stupid crushing girl all of a sudden just because of what Becky said? Usually, I'd slap his hand away and stomp on his foot, cursing him to the grave for his touchiness or I'd kick his shins and stick out my tongue like a three year old. I wondered what he was thinking as he witnessed my sudden change in attitude towards him. Did he notice? I hoped not.

 

“If I say please, if I beg, will you come over tomorrow?” he asked me, tauntingly.

 

I cleared my throat and glanced up at him. His face seemed a little flushed. “What time?” I asked, defeated. I just couldn't compete with his unfair provocations.

 

“Eleven,” he said.

 

“One.” I countered.

 

“Twelve, and not a second later but feel free to come anytime before that. Maybe we can have breakfast together,” he suggested, grinning. I tried my hardest not to smile even though the invite made me happier than I liked to admit.

 

“I might take you up on that offer. Do you guys have any Count Chocula?”

 

He frowned. “No, all we have is Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

 

I shook my head. “Never mind then. I don't eat anything but Count Chocula and Cinnamon Toast Crunch just doesn't cut it for me.”

 

“Actually…I think we do have some, hidden in a dark corner somewhere. It shouldn't be a problem, I'll give you all the Count Chocula you want.”

 

I actually smiled and he seemed taken aback for a moment. “Ok, then I'll be there bright and early with a heaping load of books so we can get started on our research. It's going to be oodles of fun,” I said sarcastically, turning on my heel and walking away.

 

The moment I was out the door, I set off at a run to find Becky's truck. I needed to get home as soon as possible so I could begin planning an outfit for tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

“Raven!”

 

I groaned. “What?!” I called, hoping my dad could hear me through my closed bedroom door. I was digging through my drawers looking for my lacy black v-neck dress. The one negative thing about only ever wearing black was that it was almost impossible to distinguish one clothing article from the other in a packed drawer like mine making getting dressed a really drawn out experience.

 

“I need you to run an errand for me!”

 

“What?!”

 

“Come here!”

 

I whipped open my door and dashed downstairs, avoiding stepping on all of Billy Boy's nerdy gadgets littering the stairs. Breaking my neck definitely was not on my list of things to do at the moment. I found dad in the living room on the computer, scanning a web page of complicated graphs and tables, the glowing screen reflected in the small rectangular panes of his glasses.

 

“Huh?” I asked warily.

 

“I need you to pick up something for dinner at the store real fast. I have to catch up on some work so I don't have time to make anything extravagant for dinner tonight,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of the computer.

 

“Where's mom?” I groaned.

 

“At a meeting.”

 

“I'm not hungry.”

 

“I am and so is your brother so you're going. My keys are on the counter,” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Here, and don't blow it all on candy.”

 

I took the twenty and pocketed it. I'd find the cheapest TV dinner in the store and then spend the remainder eighteen dollars on myself. I think that's a fair trade for making me run his errands. I snatched up dad's car keys and floored it to the Go-Go-Grocery. I was definitely going to make this fast because I had a killer outfit to plan.

 

I scanned the glass-door covered freezers, my finger poised thoughtfully on my lip as I argued with myself Kid Cuisine or Smart Choice? I weighed the pros and cons of each. Kid Cuisine cost slightly more but came with a brownie so even if I had less money for candy, I'd still have the brownie wouldn't I? But if I did get Kid Cuisine, Billy Boy might be offended and dad would probably need two of them just for himself, so I wouldn't end up saving anything. The Smart Choice on the other hand cost a meager ninety-nine cents meaning I'd spend a total of two dollars but unfortunately, there was nothing even close to what Billy Boy would normally consider appetizing. After a couple more minutes of weighing my choices, I finally decided to get two Kid Cuisines for me and Billy and a Smart Choice for my dad. The total came to four dollars and thirty-eight cents leaving me plenty for candy.

 

As I loaded my shopping basket with individually wrapped sugary delights, I heard the squeak of crooked shopping-cart wheels coming from behind me and I casually turned around to find Mrs. Mitchell, pushing her loaded cart down the isle towards me, oblivious to my staring. Not wanting an awkward encounter, I hurriedly made my way towards the opposite end of the isle but stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed a can display blocking the end of the isle leaving me with no choice but to turn around.

 

Mrs. Mitchell was dressed to the nines in glossy black stilettos, a black designer pantsuit, and an expensive leather handbag hanging from her arm. Her nails were polished a fiery red and her Prada sunglasses were sitting atop her blonde head. As I approached her I prayed that she would remain too busy studying the different brands of cookies and chips to notice me but as usual, being the `eye sore' that I was, it was almost impossible to not see me.

 

“Oh, Raven. I didn't notice you earlier,” she lied, flashing me a forced grin. “How are you?”

 

“I'm okay. How's…” I wracked my brains trying to remember any family members of hers besides Trevor that I could pretend to be concerned about. I came up with nothing and asking about her husband just seemed nosy, but it was too late now, I had to say something. “…Trevor?”

 

She raised a pencil drawn eyebrow at me curiously. “Don't you just see him today?”

 

“Uhh…but it's been a couple hours. You never know…” I improvised stupidly, avoiding her condescending gaze.

 

“Trevor tells me you're coming over tomorrow morning. Hopefully he'll clean his room because it's a complete mess,” she muttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out her ringing phone. “Hello?”

 

I stood there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, not sure if it would be rude to leave or not. I decided to pretend to be shopping while she finished talking.

 

“What is it Trevor?”

 

My ears perked up instantly.

 

“…no…no…yes, ok. Oh, wait, before you go, what was the name of that cereal that you wanted me to pick up?...okay…I'll be home soon. Love you Trevy,” she cooed before flipping closed her phone with an audible click. Trevy? I filed it away in my head for future reference.

 

“Raven, what isle is the cereal?” she asked me as if I worked here, which slightly irked me. I turned around to face her.

 

“Umm…isle five I think,” I answered, pointing past her through the packed shelves. She sighed and turned her cart around.

 

“Seriously, since when does he eat Count Chocula anyways?” she muttered under her breath. I smiled in disbelief. Trevor was serious about having me over for breakfast. The thought created a weird stirring in my chest. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow Raven. Say hi to your parents for me.”

 

“Bye Mrs. Mitchell. Send Trevor my love,” I called as we went our separate ways. I clenched my jaw. I probably should not have said that but then again…why not?

 

It was about time for me to be sending the mixed messages and I was going to enjoy every moment of it over a giant free bowl of Count Chocula.

 

 

 

A/N: OKAY. Now that all that is over with I can finally start getting to the hot stuff. I really don't want to rush this story, which I often find myself doing…I want to take this slow because I really don't think Trevor and Raven are just going to hop into bed together next chapter, in fact, I KNOW they're not. I'm truly sorry…really because believe it or not…lemons are my favorite thing to write. Did I ever mention I was a perv? Hahahaha PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!