Last Dance (The Last Girl #2)

Chapter 1 - Jessica

JESSICA

Back in Black by AC/DC

Fuck high school. Fuck the preppy little posers in their designer clothes.

Fuck the teachers with their uptight rules.

Fuck the noise, the overstuffed hallways, the bells that control our every movement, and especially that square fucking cardboard ass pizza from the cafeteria that they pretend is a nutritious lunch.

I hate high school. They all suck. I can say, without a doubt, that there is no public high school in this country that is not a soul sucking cesspool.

And as someone who has now attended five different schools in the last three and a half years, I consider myself an expert at the true misery which is the American high school system.

Listen, I know what you’re thinking—five high schools in three and a half years?

I must be some sort of nightmare teenager who starts fires or some shit.

What do they call that again? Pyromaniac, I think.

Well, no, I’m not a pyro or a criminal or anything really.

My mom is a single mom. She does what she has to.

And often that includes moving me and my brother along with her when the next new boyfriend invites us to live with him.

Usually they’re shit heads, but it puts a roof over our heads, even if only temporarily.

The newest one, Steve, is a car salesman with a bad combover and persistent sweat stains.

I’m not a fan. But he’s invited us to move in with him which is why we moved to the very inappropriately named Sunnyvale, since it doesn’t appear very sunny. In fact, it’s cold as fuck right now.

“Ready, buddy?” I ask as I look down at Tommy. My little brother smiles up at me timidly.

He’s what others might call a ‘fragile kid.’ He’s always been frail and pale.

His red hair sticks up at awkward angles.

A splattering of dark freckles marks his face.

I worry about him. I know the other kids bully him.

Plus, now he’s at his second high school within his very first year. It’s not ideal.

“Think this one will be better than the last?” he asks. I can see fear glint in his dark eyes and I feel guilt wrack through me. I wish I could save him from the cruelty of others but I can’t be with him all the time.

I liked our last school. It was small, less uptight than some of the others. Plus, I had a girlfriend there who ate me like her last fucking meal. I was pissed we had to pack up and leave.

“I bet it’ll be great.” I plaster on the fakest smile I can muster and pray it’s convincing. “Plus, it’ll be spring soon and I bet there’s some spring sports teams you could join.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah right. I’ll go get my football pads right away.”

I laugh alongside him but I’m only half kidding.

At least if he could join a team, any team, he’d have some friends who could watch his back.

The only friends he had at our last school were other dweebs who also played Dungeons and Dragons.

And they sure as shit didn’t have his back against the bullies.

“Let’s head in. Don’t want to be late on day one,” I say as I hitch my bag up my shoulder.

Everyone here appears to be dressed in cute sweaters and fleeces. All the girls have fur lined boots and cute knit caps. Apparently, that’s what’s in fashion out here in Sunnyvale.

“Welcome to Sunnyvale High School. Home of the Fighting Boars” a large sign says as we walk up the snow streaked sidewalk. I scoff under my breath at the ridiculous cartoon pig with tusks depicted on the sign.

“A pig. How terrifying.” I laugh as we pass. Tommy chuckles too but I can tell he’s nervous.

The school is a two story red brick building with white trimmed windows.

The paint is peeling around the glass frames and there’s stains on the bricks.

It looks old, like it’s seen too many lives come and go.

A frigid breeze blows a lock of red hair across my face and I move to push it back behind my ear.

A shiver runs down my spine and a sense of dread curls in my core, but I push it away.

“Here we go,” Tommy whispers under his breath as we join the throng of students walking up the front steps and entering through the wide front doors.

The hallways are crowded and cramped. The persistent buzz of noise grates against my nerves almost immediately. I feel claustrophobic.

“What number’s my locker again?” Tommy asks beside me as we push and shove through the sea of bodies.

“You’re 107 and I’m 425,” I tell him as I look down at the two pieces of paper clenched in my hands—his schedule and mine. Our locker numbers are at the top along with the combos. We asked if we could change the combos but they said they’re preassigned.

“This is you,” I tell Tommy as we saddle up next to his locker. “Need help? Know where you’re headed?”

“Jess,” he tells me with the clipped tone of his that’s somewhere between exasperated and entertained. “I’m fifteen, not five. I got this.”

I worry my bottom lip as I watch him spin the silver dial and pop open the black locker. The metal clangs as it swings open.

“You sure you don’t want me to—“

“Sis.” He levels me with a glare, his dark eyes serious beneath the lock of ginger hair that’s fallen across his forehead. “I’m good. You’ll be late for your own class. For real.” He nods reassuringly, and I swallow down the nervous lump forming in my throat. “Meet here at three?”

I nod swiftly and give him a small side hug.

“Find me if you need me,” I tell him as I hand over his schedule.

“Have a good first day, sis,” he says cheerily before moving to shove books and binders in his locker.

I walk away, glancing past my shoulder as I do. A small boy walks up to him. He has frizzy brown hair and glasses. They shake hands and start talking. Tommy smiles.

Shit. Did my little brother really just make his first friend already?

Pushing and shoving my way through the crowded hallway, I follow the curved path further down to the 400s—the senior locker bank.

Here the air just feels different. There’s electricity in the air, just waiting for a spark to ignite it.

I swallow down the unease bubbling inside me and scan the numbers along the black painted metal.

My eyes land on a girl leaning against the lockers smoking a cigarette.

She has bright blue hair and several facial piercings.

Her dark brown eyes swirling with a hint of mischief.

Her dark skin seems to glow in the low light of the back hallway.

Slowly, she blows the smoke from between her darkly painted lips and smirks.

Her tongue flicks out to lick her lips, and I catch a glimpse of metal.

Pierced tongue. My core clenches. Fuck me. She’s hot as hell.

“Hi!” a bubbly voice sings songs from behind me. Reluctantly, I break eye contact with the blue-haired beauty. “You must be Jessica!”

I turn to see who’s talking to me and am met with a blonde girl bobbing on her toes.

She’s pale and pretty, with perfectly curled hair falling just beneath her shoulders.

Her petite form is clothed in a soft pink sweater, plaid skirt, and thigh high knit socks.

She looks like a ski lodge catalogue come to life.

“I’m Lacey, your official Sunnyvale leadership society ambassador.” She smiles widely, revealing a set of perfect white teeth between her pink glossed lips.

“My what?” I ask as I take her in. She looks preppy.

“Your leadership society ambassador.” She smiles again. “I’m here to show you around.”

As much as I want to despise her preppy little ass, she seems sincere. The look on her face holds a hint of vulnerability as she smiles timidly.

“You don’t have to show me around,” I tell her as I turn to my locker and spin the lock, double checking the numbers printed on the paper. “Not like it’s a huge complex. I’m sure I can manage to find Algebra with Ms…”

I glance back down at the paper.

“Ms. Semons. She’s a bitch.” Lacey whispers the last word and glances over her shoulder. “Just try to sit in the back and avoid her wrath.”

Hearing this little good girl curse brings a smile to my face. I feel my defenses lower slightly.

“Who else do you have?” she asks, glancing down at the schedule I’m holding.

“RUN PIGGIES! RUN PIGGIES! RUN! RUN! RUN!” Booming voices fill the halls, the deep male tone bouncing off the walls and echoing through the space.

We turn to look as a group of guys come storming down the hallway.

Students part like the Red Sea, desperate to get out of the path of the horror thundering towards us.

There are at least five of them—all dressed in jeans and letterman jackets.

And all of them are wearing disgusting looking pig masks.

They alternate between the chant and horrific noises of fighting boars.

The sounds of grunts and squeals and screams is almost too much to bear.

Next to me, Lacey laughs. “They do this before every game,” she tells me. “It’s a hype up ritual.”

I look around at the faces of the other students. Some look like Lacey, entertained. Others have fear streaking their expressions. Clearly not everyone thinks this is all fun and games.

“Who are they?” I ask Lacey as the masked men circle around a boy who looks terrified. They snort and snark in his face as he shakes with fear.

“The senior football players,” she tells me.

Of fucking course.

One of the pig men spots us and freezes.

He crouches low and lets out a feral noise.

He sounds like a beast about to attack. I instinctively step away until my back hits the metal lockers behind me.

He stalks towards us, the swine mask obscuring his eyes completely.

My entire body is on edge, my nervous system screaming for me to flee as the predator closes in.

“Kiss for the piggie?” he asks as he approaches, and I slip my hand into my bag where I keep my blade.

“Ew,” Lacey whines before giggling. “Not with that mask on, babe.”

Babe?

My brain struggles to catch up as I watch the mask slide up his head.

Beneath the porcine facade is the most striking guy I’ve ever seen.

Dark, shaggy hair hangs across his forehead, falling across his emerald eyes.

A square jaw and straight nose were hidden behind the horrific mask.

He licks his full lips. I watch the path his tongue traces. He smirks and I realize I’m gawking.

“Jess.” Lacey’s voice breaks the spell I seem to have found myself under. “It’s cool if I call you Jess, right?” She doesn’t wait for my reply. “This is my boyfriend, Sam. Sam, this is Jess, the new girl.”

Boyfriend? Heat flames my cheeks and I avert my eyes, staring at my worn out Chucks.

“New girl, huh?” Sam’s voice is deep and smooth. It sends a shiver across my skin despite my best effort to not let him affect me. “Welcome. If you need anything, just let us know. My sister and I moved here a few years ago. It’ll be nice to not be the newbies.”

I chance a glance up. His emerald eyes bore into me. I shift uncomfortably.

“Oh my god, babe. Shut up.” Lacey slaps him in the arm, the very muscular arm, playfully. “You’re captain of the football team and you’re going to be prom king. You’re not the newbie.”

“Not anymore, I’m not,” he counters as he throws me a wink.

I look away, and when I do, my eyes fall on a figure lurking behind the rest. Smaller than the rest of the pig-masked figures, and they appear to be female. Despite the mask obscuring her face, I can tell that she’s staring straight at us.

“What class do you have first?” Sam asks me, and my eyes snap back to him.

He’s taller than I originally would have guessed, at least six-foot.

I notice what appears to be black ink peeking out beneath the sleeve of his jock jacket.

Interesting. The mask is still pushed up on his head but somehow he doesn’t look ridiculous.

He’s unbearably attractive and I can’t help the way my eyes want to drink him up.

But his arm is currently slung around his very pretty girlfriend.

“She’s got Algebra with Semons,” Lacey answers for me.

Sam cringes. “Rough start, newbie,” he says with a chuckle. “Come on, we’ll walk you there.”

I slam my locker closed, the sound filling the swiftly emptying hallway.

Class starts in just a few minutes and students are hurrying into classrooms. As we walk off down the hall, I chance a glance over my shoulder.

The girl is still standing there. She’s still staring.

The empty black eye holes of the horrible swine mask, which covers the eyes beneath, following my every move with extreme intensity.

Whoever she is, I want to make sure I stay the hell away from her.