The Boy That Hates Books

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Chapter 23: The Boy From Science Class

The soft purr of the trucks engine fuelled my dreams that night. I was so exhausted that even the gush of cold air that hit me as I was carried up to my front door didn’t wake me up.

I opened my eyes and looked around, the feel of his arms wrapped around me still present even now. The curtains in my room were drawn back, letting blindingly white light flood the room. I squinted, pulling the covers back from my body and sitting up. I was still in the same clothes from last night, my hair a knotted mess. A smear of mud trailed up my leg, reminding me how he’d tickled me last night, so much that I’d ended up a laughing mess on the floor.

I remembered how his tired eyes had smiled along with me. But the thing that stood at the forefront of my mind was the fact that I’d agreed to a road trip with a boy who I hardly knew.

How was I supposed to get my mum to agree to this?

I rolled onto my side, lifting up my fingers up to rub my temple. My eyes wandered over to the dresser beside my bed, landing on a piece of folded up paper. Frowning, I leaned over and picked the paper up, opening it to reveal handwriting that was oddly recognisable.

I squinted whilst I read,

′I took care of everything with your mum. Just pretend you were upset about your friends leaving and wanted to confide in someone. I told her I knew you through school, we’re working on a science project together.

You’re welcome.

p.s You know where to find me.

- The Boy That Hates Books’

Wow. Could he not of thought of anything more original? ‘Working on a science project’ was every teenage girls excuse for seeing a guy. It was bad enough him not reading books, but he clearly didn’t watch any movies either. I laughed to myself, feeling like a huge weight had just lifted off my shoulders. Having to explain why I hadn’t got home until gone midnight would’ve made all hell break loose. I just hoped he’d made a good impression on her.

A gentle knock sounded on my door, and my mums head popped around the corner. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped into my room. I knew she was trying to act like she knew nothing about last night. She wanted me to explain myself.

I swiftly tucked the note beneath my duvet and acted like I’d only just woken up. She raised her eyebrows, arms folded across her chest.

“Where were you last night?”

Thank god The Boy That Hates Books had left that note. If he hadn’t I would of made up some lame excuse and got myself grounded.

“I’m so sorry mum,” I started, acting clueless, “I should’ve messaged you. I went over my friends house. We have science together-”

Her mouth tilted up into a smirk, “It’s okay Kirsten. I spoke to him.”

I exhaled, pretending to act relieved.

“But when I said you should go out and find yourself a distraction, I didn’t mean all day and all night.”

“I know.”

I knew that even though she had spoken to him, she would’ve been worried sick last night. The thought of her waiting for me to come home made a wave of sadness wash over me.

“Never again okay?”


She came over and sat down on my bed, curiosity replacing her stern expression.

“He seems nice.” She raised her eyebrows, nudging my shoulder.

Oh great.

“No, mum it’s nothing like that. Seriously we just work together at school and that’s it.”

“I’m not stupid Kirsten. I was once your age too you know.”

Classic parent. Pulling the ‘I pulled the same tricks with my mum’ card.

“I’m not interested mum.”

“If you say so.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds, and in those seconds I thought of him.

“But seriously, if there is anything going on promise me you’ll be careful.”

I knew what she was talking about. She was talking about Nala and Vixen.

“I promise.”

She lent forwards and kissed me on the forehead, before standing up to leave.

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

And I did. I was lucky to have a woman like her in my life.

I couldn’t help but wonder how she would react when I told her I was going on a road trip with the boy from my science class, the boy who was slowly but surely,

changing my life.

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