“I’ll still make you breakfast,” she adds, thinking that’s my problem with driving myself. “Besides, you’ll end up eating donuts every morning if I don’t and I have to try and get some healthy stuff into you.” She waits beats before she mumbles, “Not that you can cook.”
“I can’t cook because you are always beating me to it,” I defend. Okay, I can’t cook. She’s tried to teach me. I have no idea why I can’t master cooking. It’s mixing a bunch of stuff together. It should be so easy. I am in advanced chemistry, for christ’s sakes.
“Hmm humm.” She purses her lips, fighting a laugh. I don’t fight my own. I laugh because it is ridiculous how terrible I am at it. “Can’t win them all, darling.” She pats my leg.
“This is your stop, kiddo,” Mom says as we pull up in front of my new school. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and gather my things.
“Thanks for driving me. Love you,” I say, getting my things together.
“Love you. Have a great day. Just be yourself.”
That sounds easy enough. For some reason the boy from the other day flashes through my mind again. He’s made a habit of doing that since I saw him in the food court at the mall. I’m not sure you would even call him a boy. I keep wondering if he goes to my new school, but I’ve pushed that idea aside. There is no way he’s in high school. He has to be in college. Still, that nervous rush hits me again when my mind drifts to him. The same feeling I’ve been having all morning about my new school. I don’t have time to try to understand why that feeling would be linked to him. I push the thoughts of him away and concentrate on what I’m doing.
Mom reaches over, grabbing my hand and giving it a small squeeze. I take a deep breath and push the passenger side door open. I can feel the stares coming from the small bunches of students that have gathered in front of the entrance. I shut the door, swing my bag over my shoulder and begin to walk into the uncertainty of my first day.
4
Owen
“What’s the hurry?” Ben Hamilton asks as I quickly wipe my freshly showered body off with a towel.
I glance at Carter at the end of the bench but he’s either pretending he can’t hear or is too engrossed in the contents of his phone to spill my deets. Not that it’s a secret. As soon as I find Alice everyone in school will know what’s going on because I’m slapping my name on her butt. Or she can slap hers on mine. Either way works.
“Got to meet my girl.” I pull on my briefs and jeans and then root around for my stick of deodorant. I can never find anything in my damn locker. FU is filled with money and this locker room looks like something you’d find in those Division One football schools with its dark wood benches and the marble tiled floors, but the lockers are still too small to fit anything more than a pair of shoes and a backpack.
“What girl? You don’t have a girl. Or do you and I’ve been a shit friend and haven’t noticed? What the fuck?” Ben sounds legit distressed.
I slap him on the shoulder. “Nah. It’s new. I’ll introduce her at the next party. We’re doing something after Friday’s game, right?”
Ben breathes a sigh of relief and turns to our captain. “You’re hosting, aren’t you, Carter?”
Carter nods but still doesn’t look up. Whatever is on his phone must be riveting. None of my concern, though. If Carter wanted us to know, he’d tell us. I throw on the rest of my clothes and grab my backpack.
“I’m off. See you losers later.”
At the door, Billy Cunningham stops me. “Hey, I heard you were taking comparative English.” He pulls out a slip of paper. “My sister took it last year so I have notes and shit if you want to look it over.”
I take the paper even though I have no intention of cheating my way to a good grade, but Billy’s trying to be helpful in his own fucked-up way and I’m not going to call him out in front of the team. He’s already on Carter’s shit list because of something that happened before I came. “Appreciate that. I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, well, we can’t have our new star wide receiver flunk out.” He gives a funny laugh and darts through the door.
Before I exit, Carter’s at my shoulder. “Be careful,” he says.
“Yeah, I know.” I stuff the note into my back pocket. “I’m not doing anything that jeopardizes the team. Besides, I signed up for the class because I actually like to read.”