Don't Go (For You 3)

Prologue

Henry

I stand in the lunch line with my tray, trying not to get caught staring at her. There’s an ache in my chest as I watch her in the kitchen dishing out food and bringing it over to the buffet. She shouldn’t be serving all these spoiled assholes.

I know I come from money, but that’s not what defines me. My parents taught me that it didn’t matter the dollars I had in my pocket; all that mattered was what was in my heart. I never realized what they truly meant by that until the first time I saw her. When I laid eyes on her, it was the only time in my life that I cared about what someone thought of me. Of course, like any senior in high school, I wanted to impress her. But more than anything, I wanted her to see I was different. That I wasn’t some spoiled rich kid who slid in here because of my last name. I wanted her to look at me and see someone kind and smart. Okay, and maybe supremely hot.

Kory Summers moved here at the beginning of our senior year, but I don’t know her story. She’s quiet and keeps to herself, and I don’t have many classes with her. I’ve avoided asking about her because I don’t want to draw attention. It’s clear she wants to remain under the radar. She’s a scholarship student, which is obvious from her place on the other side of the counter during lunch.

Our high school is one of the best private schools in New York City, and if you can’t afford to pay the astronomical tuition, they offer a few rare scholarships that require working for the school in exchange for an education. We call the kids in these programs “ships.” The ships usually band together and don’t mingle with the rest of us for the most part. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out why, but Kory even stays clear of most of the ships unless it comes to work.

I’ve poked around and found out she hasn’t joined any teams or clubs. She has no after-school activities other than helping some of the ships with the rowing equipment after practice. If I didn’t pay so much attention to her every movement, if I was like every other person in this school, I might have missed her completely. But I don’t miss a thing when it comes to her.

“Yo, Henry, grab me three of those,” my cousin Pandora says as she walks past me and cuts in front of the line. I look down and see Kory place small plates of tacos in front of me, and I grab some for Pandora.

My twin cousins go here, too, but they’re almost a year younger than me. Most of the time, we eat lunch together, unless Penelope is in love this week and she’ll sit with whatever guy she’s picked up.

By the time I look up, I see Kory’s back as she walks away and could kick myself. It would have been a perfect opportunity to say something to her. Anything.

It’s not that I’m shy or that I have a problem talking to girls. I just don’t make the effort most of the time. My parents have ruined me for falling in love, and I don’t know that I want to play the hook-up game like some of my guy friends.

My dad fell in love with my mom the second he saw her. He did insane things to make sure he’d have her and the two of them are inseparable. They’re crazy about each other, and being a kid in the shadow of that makes it feel like finding what they have is impossible. So instead, I’ve gone out of my way to avoid the possibility of that kind of love and focused on school. Until Kory showed up. Now I can’t get her off my mind.

“Are you going to move or what?” someone says from behind me, and I tear my eyes away from Kory to go to the cashier.

I pay for my food then spot Pandora. Penelope is talking to a table of cheerleaders, but she’s still holding her tray in her hands, so I’m guessing she’ll be over to our usual table soon enough.

A few minutes later, Pandora gets to our table. Though she already has a full tray, she reaches over to take her tacos without so much as a thank-you. I’ve long ago stopped being surprised by how much she can eat.

“You talk to her today?” Penelope chirps as she arrives and sits beside me.

I pretend I don’t hear her and take a drink of my soda.

“You’re becoming obvious,” Pandora mumbles around a mouthful of food, and Penelope agrees with her.

“It’s true. We only noticed it in the beginning because we know your tells. But now you’re getting sloppy.”