CinderEli

CinderEli

Rosie Somers

CinderEli

By Rosie Somers

Copyright © 2015 Rosie Somers

Smashwords Edition

This book is a work of fiction. All characters,
places, names, events are either a product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any events,
locations, or persons, alive or otherwise, is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved.

First eBook edition, December 2015

Contents

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

One

Katie

I spun my car into
the parking spot like a
stunt driver and was already half out when I slammed the shifter
into park. According to the dashboard clock, it was 7:27 am, and I
had less than three minutes to get to class. I grabbed my backpack
and my sandals from the backseat and jogged in bare feet across the
parking lot to the science building.

I didn’t exactly make the best impression,
sliding into the classroom just as the teacher was beginning his
introduction, shoes dangling from my fingers instead of on my feet.
But it wasn’t the first time I’d been late to school. This wasn’t
even the first time I’d been late to class that week. My first week
of senior year, and I was three for three. Procrastinating was kind
of my thing. “Always Late Kate,” that’s what my friends called
me.

“Nice of you to join us,” the teacher greeted
me, basically inviting the whole class to look at the slacker who’d
just disrupted their learning experience.

“Sorry, sir. I got stuck in traffic.” I
dropped my eyes to the floor apologetically, remembering too late
that my feet were naked. He lifted a hand to stroke his
salt-and-pepper beard while pointedly staring at my toes. My
sandals slapped as they hit the ground, and I stabbed my feet
through the straps sloppily.

“Take a seat over there.” He pointed to a
seat at the back of the room. Good, I would be safely tucked away
in the corner, away from all of the curious eyes currently roving
over me. “Next time, do try to be on time. And fully dressed.”

I slunk across the room and squeezed by all
of the conscientious students who’d been on time. I’d almost made
it to my seat when I tripped over someone’s foot. My embarrassment
couldn’t end with me just being late to class. Oh no, that would be
too easy. I yelped once and teetered for barely more than a second
before toppling face-first into the boy sitting next to my empty
seat. I’d almost made it to my chair, one seat to go, and now I was
in my neighbor’s lap with my face squashed against his incredibly
hard chest.

Ugh. Could I just die now? I pulled myself
off my unfortunate victim and looked up into his face as I knelt to
grab my backpack from where it had landed during my fall. To say he
had the face of an angel would be an understatement.
Chocolate-brown eyes were emphasized by an arrow-straight nose and
strong, square jaw. His skin was creamy smooth, and my mouth
watered at the sight of full, rosy lips. As if sensing the turn of
my thoughts, his tongue darted out to wet those lips.

“If you’re finished introducing yourself to
your classmate, I’d like to continue with the class.” The teacher’s
gravelly voice brought my surroundings into sharp focus. I was on
my knees between this guy’s legs, and the whole class had been
witness to it. I scrambled up into my seat and did my best to
disappear. The guy next to me shifted uncomfortably in his
seat.

“Now, as I was saying—I’m Mr. Carson. Welcome
to Chemistry.” Teach grabbed a stack of papers from the podium in
front of him and headed for the nearest student as he spoke.
“Please take out a pen. Take a copy of the syllabus and pass the
stack on. This semester, we’ll use a combination of learning tools
. . .”

While I waited for the syllabi to make it to
my row, I grabbed a hair-tie out of my backpack and yanked my
unruly, blonde curls into a crude ponytail, then dug into the bag
in search of a pen. A minute later, I was forced to admit defeat.
Obviously, I was cursed. Being late to class, falling into the lap
of another student, and now finding out I had no pen.

I leaned over to the guy whose personal space
I’d inadvertently violated and whispered, “Do you have an extra
pen?” Without skipping a beat, he fished a spare BIC out of the
cargo pocket of his khaki shorts. He passed it to me, without
looking my way, but froze when our fingers brushed.

One quick glance at his face was enough to
see he was blushing furiously. The poor kid was more embarrassed
than I was. Luckily, the jock on the other side of him chose that
moment to slap the last two syllabi down in front of my new pal.
Hot Embarrassed Guy tossed mine onto the desk like it was on fire.
Or I was.

“The last page of your syllabus is the
syllabus quiz. It doesn’t count for a grade, but it will be used
for attendance and to show that you understand the syllabus,” Mr.
Carson intoned, now seated behind his desk. I scanned the document
while the teacher continued his instruction. “Everyone with a seat
near the aisle and everyone next to the wall please look to the
student next to you . . .”

Hot Guy next to me cleared his throat,
drawing my attention.
Oh me!
I was next to the wall. And
Hottie was next to me.

Mr. Carson continued, “This person is going
to be your lab partner for the remainder of the semester. If he or
she transfers out of the course, or just doesn’t do the work,
you’ll be responsible for their share. You’re going to be spending
a lot of time working together, both during and outside of class. I
recommend you get to know each other well . . .” He paused to stare
pointedly at me. “Some of you have already started.”

Yep, it was official. I could die from
mortification now. I could try to transfer into another class, but
that would leave Hot Guy to fend for himself with double the work.
I’d already been enough of a headache for him. The least I could do
was pull my own weight.

The teacher returned his attention to the
class as a whole. “Get started on the quiz. When you’re finished,
you may have the rest of the period free. Just drop your paper off
on my desk on your way out when the bell rings.”

I sighed. Apparently, there was no chance of
being able to avoid this boy for the rest of my life. Or the rest
of the semester even.

I scooted my chair closer to the table and
settled my elbows on top. “I guess we should get started.” I turned
slightly toward my new partner but was careful to keep as much
distance between us as possible. “I’m Katie.”

“Roman.” He still wouldn’t look at me.

“Look, I’m really sorry about . . . you know
. . . earlier.” Before I could stop myself, I’d underlined my
breasts with my hands and followed the action up with an awkward
gesture toward his lap.
Jeez, get it together, Katie.
He
must’ve thought I was a total whack-a-doo.

The pink of his cheeks deepened to a
strawberry red, but he finally cast his eyes my way. To his credit,
Roman managed to keep his gaze on my face for a full five seconds
before it dropped to my cleavage. He cleared his throat and turned
to the papers in front of him. And he was back to avoiding looking
at me.
Lovely.

“So . . . question number one is about the
grading schedule.” His voice was deep and rich and left me
imagining all the things I’d like to hear him say to me. None of
them included the grading schedule, but I flipped to the last page
of my syllabus anyway. At least he was speaking to me.

Forty-two awkward minutes passed before the
bell rang. When the period finally ended, I fled my seat like I was
being chased—by something other than my own humiliation. I set my
quiz down on the small stack of papers left by other students and
made for the door. With any luck, I’d make it through the rest of
the semester without humiliating myself any further. But right at
that moment, my only focus was getting through the day, driving to
my house, and burying myself under a pile of blankets so big, no
one would ever find me.

I was hyper-aware of Roman close behind me,
placing his paper on the stack, keeping up with me stride for
stride out the door and down the hall. When I got to the stairs, I
clung tight to the rail and paid extra attention to each step as I
descended. I didn’t want to add a graceless fall down the steps to
the morning’s list of embarrassments.

An eternity stretched between the second and
first floors of the science building. We were the only two people
on the stairs, but Roman seemed to fill every inch of that space,
own it. Own me. I should have known that being in such close
quarters with the hottest boy to ever grace a high school campus
would lead to butterflies taking up residence in my stomach.

A million miles later, we reached the bottom,
and I headed out into the warm mid-morning air toward the Language
Arts building. Halfway down the hallway, he was still trucking
along behind me. When we reached my class, I turned to face him.
“Are you following me?”

He sputtered and stepped back. He shook his
head vehemently and opened his mouth, but it was a few seconds
before he managed to say anything. “No! Definitely not! I’m right
over there.” He pointed to the class across the hall.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. There
probably wasn’t anything I
could
say to salvage any shred of
dignity at that point. I dug my hands into my pockets and turned
toward the relative safety of the classroom.

“Hey.” Roman pressed soft fingertips to the
inside of my elbow, and I turned to face him. He made a show of
checking the syllabus he still held. “We um . . . we’re supposed to
read the first three chapters of the book and be prepared for the
quiz.” He paused to stare at the toe of his sneaker as he scuffed
it along the pavement.

I shook my head. “It’s the first quiz of the
semester. He’ll probably drop the grade anyway.”

He looked me square in the eyes for the first
time that morning. The action gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe
working together for the next few months wouldn’t be devastatingly
awkward. It also set those butterflies off in my stomach again.
“Maybe we should get together before the next class and study. You
know . . . since we get a shared grade on the classwork and
all.”

Ah, he wanted to make sure I knew my stuff so
he didn’t get a bad grade. Well, it was good enough for me. “Sure,
here.” I dug his BIC out of my backpack and grabbed his arm,
turning it to bare the smooth underside for prime writing space.
When I’d finished writing on him, I recapped his pen and handed it
back to him. “That’s my phone number.”

“Okay, cool. I’m open Friday, if you want to
get together then.” His voice rumbled in the quiet hall.

“Friday it is.”

Two

Roman

Katie Lennox had no idea
who I was. And why
would she? We’d only been attending the same high school for the
last three years. Now, I was supposed to study with her tonight and
what? Pretend I didn’t know her either? All day, I’d rolled every
scenario around in my head, imagining what I would say, what her
reaction would be. And I always came back to the same thing: the
path of least embarrassment seemed to be acting like I’d been just
as oblivious to her existence as she’d been to mine. When the last
bell of the day rang, I took my time packing my book and notebook
into my backpack, waiting for the other students in my American
Government class to head out into the hallway before I stood and
slung the bag over my shoulder.

I dragged my feet on the way to my locker,
killing time, letting the hallways empty before I left for home. My
Chem book was already in my bag; I’d been holding onto it like a
life-preserver since class yesterday. Every time I looked at it, I
remembered Katie landing in my lap, the way her eyes had widened
and her lips had parted in surprise, the scent of her shampoo—a
light, melony scent. It was the closest I’d ever been to her, not
that I hadn’t thought about it. I’d spent more time than I would
ever admit out loud thinking about Katie, about being near her.

When I was satisfied that the hallways were
deserted, I headed toward the gym. The boys’ locker room was silent
and empty when I got there. There were no games tonight, so there
was no reason for anyone to stay late—everyone was probably eager
to start their weekend. For the first time since I could remember,
I was too. My weekends were usually spent studying or mowing lawns.
Tonight, I actually had plans—with the most beautiful girl in
school. My stomach twisted with an unfamiliar nervous feeling. I
couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or dread. Maybe both.