Secretly Forever Yours

I catch myself staring at him again. I look down awkwardly. I can't get over him and it drives me mad. I stare at Kyler again without even noticing it. My eyes seem to have minds of their own.
"Claire," Bella sighs. "You need to stop looking at him or he's gonna freak out and never talk to you again..."
I snap back into it again. I'm in first period Spanish 2 and I'm acing the course. My teacher thinks I am a goddess. My classmates think I'm a genius. What more could a fifteen year-old girl want? I'll answer that with two words.
Kyler Bennett.
It all started last year in Spanish 1. We had that class together too. At first, I thought he was just a cocky, jerky sophomore. (But I was a dumb freshman. I was a total loser.) Heck, I still am. This year changed though. He's a junior now and he kind of matured or something. I see him in a new light. It's only been two and a half weeks into my sophomore year and I may be putting my heart on the line again for the third year in a row. I don't know if I can risk it. I've all ready gone through enough in my short life.
"Hey, Claire," Kyler says. "Wanna partner up for that AP Bio project?"
I look over at him with a shy smile. My throat closes from nerves and my hands start shaking. I drop my pencil and put my hands flat on my thighs so he doesn't notice my stupid trembling.
"Hmm," I wonder out loud. "I'm not so sure about this." I joke, my voice is surprisingly even.
Kyler and I joke a lot and by a lot, I mean almost always. Just last week, to practice our Spanish, our teacher pairs us up and Kyler goes, "Oh, great!" with fake sarcasm and flashes me a big smile and winks. I almost melted.
Wait, what if he's just using me because I'm smart? What if he's trying to lead me on? What if...
Screw it.
"Sure," I say as calmly as I can muster.
"Great," he smiles. "Now I have to listen to you nag me even more!"
"Oh, no," I say sarcastically. "What a nightmare!"
"Isabel!" Senor Vargas yells. "Tito! Silencio o te escribo para arriba!"
"Si Senor," I mumble.
In the beginning of the semester, Senor Vargas had us pick Spanish names for the term. I chose Isabel and Kyler chose Tito.
Ironically, "Tito" means "small" in Spanish and Kyler is built. He plays on our varsity football team. Yes, I go to all of the games, or technically, I will be since the season just stared last week.
Kyler shakes his head at me with fake shame. "Claire... Naughty Claire..."
I stick my tongue out at him and snicker.
"Wow," he mouths at me. "Such a mature sophomore!"
"And you were more mature than me last year, Kyler?" I mouth back.
He just looks at me. "True,"
I get back to my work. I am constantly reminded that I have no chance with this guy. I mean, he's a nerd, yes. But he's also popular with the girls here. Even if they just talk to him, my blood boils and I want to knock her teeth into her skull.
I rethink what I just thought. I really need anger management...

Later in class, Bella gives me a look of great concern. "Claire, this isn't healthy." She says as we continue our partner work.
Bella is scene. She loves music, especially Motionless in White. There's a guy in her life named Matt. She calls him "Fluffy." She really seems to like him too. He's like her with his piercings and whatnot. From what I know, they seem like a perfect pair. I hope it works out.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I sigh.
I write our last past tense expression down.
A thought occurs to me. Homecoming. Yeah, I have a date. No, it's not Kyler, which is very unfortunate. It's a guy I met at homecoming last year, actually. My "date" ditched me and this guy came to my rescue. It was kind of sweet.
Kyler is working with a friend of his, who, I believe, goes by the name of Sam.
"Dude, if you didn't screw up with her, you would have had a hot girlfriend!" Sam says, frowning.
My ears perk up when I hear "girlfriend." A smile creeps across my face.
"Claire," Bella warns. "Don't-"
I tune her out and listen to Sam and Kyler.
"Yeah, I know. Cassidy was a hot blonde." Kyler answers him, frowning himself.
I feel my heart sink at the word "blonde". I look down at my long, curly, brown hair. A little lump grows in my throat.
Great. I think. He's one of those guys. I sigh again.
"See, told ya," Bella says as she breaks her Kit Kat in half and hands me a piece. "Just like the rest."

I go to my Algebra 2 class, a class without Kyler. We learn about complex fractions, practice it, and leave. The class is a simple one. It gets quite lonely and dead quiet a majority of the time.
There's only one thing wrong with Kyler. He's very loud. And loud is very big understatement. A huge one actually.
So math could be more entertaining with him in class, but you can't have everything.
AP Bio is class of work, lots and lots of work. I have no idea why a person in their right mind would sign up for this class.
Guess I'm not sane.
And apparently, neither is Kyler.
Mrs. Brady has earned the title of the "Homework Queen" at our high school and just assigns us very large packets (yes, packets with a S) on weekends. I have done ten packets. Ten.
Don't even get me started on the summer assignments. It was awful.
Kyler sits right behind me in the class. I can never thank Mrs. Brady enough for that. Usually what happens is he pokes my back or my head with his pencil. On an occasion, he whispers stupid things in my ears about how the cats became house pets or how if you die in your house, your dog won't eat you, but your cat will. Freaky, right?
We have to work on a lab report we did before, but the grades were so bad that Mrs. Brady took pity on us and we got to it over.
Another weird thing was my teacher randomly assigns teams and she assigned me with Kyler and a chick named Abby.
Okay, I don't want to be rude or anything, but there are certain people who probably get their rich-kid butlers to do their homework for them. Abby Abbott is one of those people.
She's a sophomore and she's already gotten scholarships from Cambridge and Princeton.
And she's as dead as a door nail.
"So like, what do we say?" Abby asks as she smacks her gum.
I roll my eyes. "We write up our lab reports."
"Like, by ourselves?" She says and smacks her gum again.
My eyes flicker over to Kyler. He's staring at her with gaga eyes. I hit his arm to get him out of his daze.
"Ow!" he exclaims. "What was that for?"
"Staring is impolite," I mumble and begin to write the lab report I got a 94% on anyway.
Kyler got an 86% and Miss Princeton got a 62%. Everyone in the group had to get at least a C. Abby's butler apparently didn't understand the assignment.
"Be right back," Kyler says as he gets up.
"Jealous much, Claire?" Abby snickers when he's out of ear shot.
"What?" I ask. I have to be as calm as possible and not let her sense anything because if I do, she'll never let me live this down and Kyler will never speak to me again.
"I saw that. I'm not stupid. You like him, don't you?" She says she raises one eyebrow suspiciously.
"What? No." I say, my voice normal.
"I see the way you look at him. I'm not blind. There's something there and I'm not crazy." Abby whines.
"Who's crazy?" Kyler butts in when he sits down with a plop.
Before I have a chance to say anything, Miss Cambridge says, "Claire," with her best snobby-rich-kid voice.
His blue eyes seem to smile at me when he says, "Of course she's crazy. She's clearly a St. Cloud and no St. Cloud I've met is perfectly sane."
He's talking about my brother, Chris. He's a senior this year and a total whack-job. He plays on the football team with Kyler.
That was the agreement, apparently. I got the brains and Chris got the brawn. I'm on the school debate team and Model United Nations team, while Chris plays football, baseball, and wrestles.
Chris is smart, don't get me wrong, but I'm smarter. He teases me all of the time about it. "Try out for track!" He jokes. He knows I can't run for two minutes without fainting. I do the same thing except with AP classes. He just looks at me like I have three heads.
Yeah, if I had the athletic ability of Chris, I wouldn't be debating, rewriting an almost perfect lab report for a higher grade, or solving other countries' problems, I'd play volleyball and run track.
My parents really believe in scholarships from colleges. Once they figured out our strengths, they have Chris play sports and push me in academics. Our parents love us, yes, but Chris has been injured so many times and I have been stressed to the point of giving up more times than that. I have to do well because if I don't, I'm on my own for payments for college.
I smile at him and try to hide my blushing.
"Abby," Kyler says suddenly. "I heard that Conner wants to ask you to homecoming."
Conner is a really attractive boy in our class. He has long, soft, dark hair and the prettiest blue eyes. Every girl wants him. Except me that is...
"Really?! I have to go talk to him!" She takes off to the other side of the room.
"What did you do that for?" I ask, trying to not look as puzzled as I feel.
He shrugs. "She pisses me off and I want to work with someone who doesn't drive me crazy for ten minutes."
He wants to work with me. Oh my God. Oh my God. I shiver from the excitement. I can barely contain my joy. I don't drive him crazy. Success!
"Cold?" He asks.
"Little," I answer.
He hands me his football sweatshirt. It's very big and I may drown in a sea of red fabric. It has his last name on the back and his number. 67 is my lucky number, ironically.
I put it on and take a whiff while it is over my head. Axe and spearmint gum; the two most comforting smells in the world.