Feral by Anne Berkeley

Author:Anne Berkeley [Berkeley, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Anne Berkeley Books
Published: 2013-11-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“You look like crap.”

Glaring, I stared at Mike with blatant aversion. He really didn’t know when to call it quits. I had no interest in him. He was a phase of my life that was over. So over. I had a zillion other things to worry about. The last thing I needed was his continued badgering.

My top priority at the moment was passing my calculus test. East’s curriculum was about two weeks behind West, and having missed a week of school, that left me three weeks off the pace. I was struggling to catch up. Mrs. D assigned double the homework every night, but that was only math. I still had homework assignments for three other subjects to complete as well.

Dropping his tray on the table, Mike straddled the stool across from me.

“Sure, have a seat,” I said sarcastically. As if I were inviting him. As if anybody else were sitting there. I’d been so bogged down with work that I hadn’t had time to befriend anyone. Not even old classmates from before the school division.

“Late night?”

“None of your business.” Bored of the routine, I went back to my work. Perhaps he’d get the point that he wasn’t welcome and go away.

“You’ve been sitting by yourself all week. I’m just trying to be courteous.”

“I’m studying, and you’re disturbing me.”

“What’re you studying? Maybe I can help.”

“Perhaps,” I said, packing up my things, “you can help me with practicing language arts. Goodbye. Au revoir. Sayonara. Arrivederci. Adios.”

Moving to a table on the other side of the cafeteria, I resumed my studying in somewhat peace. Around me, I could hear the hiss and snickers of our senior classmates as Mike’s tray once again plopped down opposite me.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear. Fuck off, Mike.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Yet, here you sit.”

“How many times do I have to apologize, Thale? I was sixteen, and drunk. And vainglorious. I was trying to look cool in front of the guys. It was stupid and immature, I know. And I’ve regretted every minute of it.”

I wondered how long it took for him to compose that small speech. About a week was my guess. “Every minute since last Monday when I told you I knew about the bet?” I countered. “I’ve regretted it for two years and running, Michael, so excuse me if I come off as bitter.”

Homework. Concentrate. I was so going to fail calculus.

“Thale.”

…antiderivatives of functions which contain th roots of or other expressions. WTF? I was so going to fail calculus.

“Thale.”

Frustrated, I looked up. “Michael. Can you not see that I’m busy?” I gestured to the books splayed out in front of me with a fan of my hand.

“I meant every word I said. Back when we used to talk about college and our future together. I swear. What happened at the party that night, it was all a show for the guys.”

“What do you want from me?” I said with an aggrieved sigh. “Are you looking for some kind of absolution?”

“I want a second chance.”

“I’m not interested,” I said, returning to my work.

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