Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
kane
FOUR YEARS AGO, HIGH SCHOOL
Out of My League – Aiden Bissett
Another new town, another new fucking school because dear old Dad can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Another affair caused us to flee yet once again in an attempt to save a marriage that should’ve ended before my fifth birthday, yet here we are thirteen years later, still dealing with the same old bullshit.
Why my mother hasn’t left is beyond me. I tried reasoning with her for years, but she’s always made excuses for him, so now I just block her out.
She made her own bed, and now she gets to lie in it.
I’m pissed off at the world, hating every part of this place I’ve been dropped in, listening to this kid in front of me drone on and on—a student council member who was assigned as a tour guide to show me to my first class, as if I can’t read the map they gave me.
Usually, I would be grateful for the help, maybe even strike up a conversation, but after a run-in with Dad and another lecture about taking school seriously in order to get into his alma mater—as if he couldn’t buy the whole school to have me accepted—I’m not in the mood.
New places, new people, trying to make friends only to have to pack up and move again—I’m sick of it.
My all-black clothing coupled with my new hairstyle—shorter on the sides, longer on top—complete the whole fuck-the-world look I’m going for. Though, the lingering looks from girls in the hall tell me they don’t seem to mind it.
Maybe this year won’t be all bad. I can play ball, fuck some girls.
One more year and I’ll be gone. Off to college, preparing to join the family business I want absolutely nothing to do with.
The D’Antonios started building their fortune when my great-granddad hit it big in oil and started his own investment firm.
He started a legacy of D’Antonio men who know how to make money but have no fucking clue how to show up for their families.
I scoff to myself, and the kid showing me around looks in my direction. I send a small smile and thumbs up his way, and he turns back around.
I put my foot down when my father suggested a private school. I’m so sick of our inner circle, the fake as fuck smiles and even faker attitudes when they find out what your net worth is. As if money has bought any of them a clue.
This school is top-rated, though, with state-of-the-art gyms and practice fields and a long line of champion athletes. If I’m stuck here, at least I still have football. It’s my last year to do something because I want it, not because my father decided it for me.
The school is laid out like a circle, with hallways branching off from the center.
I missed the first period talking to the principal, so when we finally reach my second class, the kid showing me around turns to me and says, “This is Mr. Adams, he’s a really good teacher.
He also coaches football as one of the assistants, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of him.
I have class on the other side, so I probably won’t be here when you get out. Can you find your next class, okay?”
I nod, and he waves and takes off the way we came.
I take a small breath and steel myself as I push open the door.
When I enter, everyone is still up and talking while the teacher is at the board writing something down.
A large whiteboard takes up most of the front of the room, with a teacher’s desk in the opposite corner from the door.
Roughly four rows of five desks take up most of the room.
The teacher, Mr. Adams, looks up when he notices me at the door. He caps the marker and sets it down, a polite smile on his face. “You must be Kane,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” I answer, hands in my pockets, not yet looking at the other students, though the noise has quieted down a lot since I walked in.
Turning toward the class, Mr. Adams gestures to me, as if the whole class isn’t already locked onto me at the front.
“Class, this is Kane D’Antonio, a new student. Please welcome him and take your seats. Let’s get started.”
The new student orientation never gets easier, even if being stared at doesn’t bother me much.
I care little about what people think of me, but there’s always a hierarchy at schools, everyone falling into cliques made up of sports and social statuses.
The haves and the have-nots. Whether society wants to believe they’re a thing of the past or not, every school has one, and day one always begins with figuring out where you are going to fall into it.
After all the upheaval over the recent years, I’d just like a few chill friends to look forward to seeing, to try to enjoy my last year. Who knows, maybe I’ll actually go to homecoming—though prom is a definite no.
It’s never been hard to get girls, but my last name always sends some unwanted attention my way—people hoping to get in good with me to benefit from what that name offers. What they don’t know is that I’d trade with any of them just to be free from the shackles of it.
I finally look out at the class, quickly glancing at each student until I get to the row closest to where I’m standing My gaze almost skips right over her at first. Then it whips right back to the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Her stunning blue eyes are locked on mine, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders. She has her full pink lips wrapped around a pen, as if she was mid-thought.
My tongue gets stuck in my mouth, and my palms instantly start sweating. I can’t seem to tear my eyes from hers.
She sits forward in her seat, elbows braced on her desk, and the way her breasts are pushed up in a tight long-sleeve shirt, pulls my gaze there for a moment before I force it back to her eyes.
Cornflower blue.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to pick up a color that easily before, but the way they stare at me matches my mother’s favorite flowers in her garden.
Cornflower blue. Not as piercing and vibrant as a cerulean blue, more muted but no less stunning.
My mother always built a new garden in any house we moved to.
I used to work on it with her—that was our thing together.
My heart feels like it’s palpitating, the beats feeling irregular in my chest.
Is this acid reflux?
Should I ask to see the nurse?
I’ve never experienced such a visceral reaction to another person before. The girl’s eyes burn a hole right through me.
“Sit anywhere, Kane,” Mr. Adams says, gesturing toward the seats and turning back to the board, effectively dismissing me.
I spot a seat behind the girl, so I urge my feet to move me closer to her. It’s almost as if an invisible string is pulling me to her by some unknown force. My feet have no other choice but to be wherever she is.
The closer I get, the more stunning she is.
Her features fit her face perfectly, light makeup dusting her face, the mascara enhancing her blue eyes.
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed such small details on a person’s face before, but I cannot seem to stop myself from cataloging every detail, as if she might disappear at any moment.
She tracks me with her eyes as I make my way toward my seat.
Some people wave as I walk by, a few girls looking me up and down, but I ignore them.
As I pass by her, I get a whiff of something citrusy. I take the seat behind her and slide in, noticing her shoulders tense a bit. I drop my bag to the ground and lean back, legs spread slightly, unable to take my eyes off her.
Her long dark brown hair flows down her back, narrow shoulders followed by a slimmer waist. Her blue long sleeve shirt stands out against her pale skin. She reaches back and pulls all her hair off her neck, making that scent of hers drift toward me again.
Lemons. Fuck if I don’t want to bottle that up and take it with me.
Never in my life have I cared to focus on a girl’s scent before and fuck if I don’t sound like some lovesick idiot, whimpering after her already.
Mr. Adams has started his lecture, yet I don’t hear a word. Unable to wait a second longer to speak to her, I lean forward and tap her shoulder. She jumps in response before turning to me.
Fuck, do her eyes hold me hostage. They’re even bluer up close, standing out against her dark hair and pale skin. I swear she’s a fucking goddess sent to lure me to the underworld. A siren playing her music from her eyes only, snaring me in and never letting me go.
“Can I borrow a pencil?” I ask, a small smirk on my lips, deciding to pack on the charm. My hands are spread out on the desk, fighting the urge to touch her—because that would be fucking creepy, and the last thing I want to do is scare this girl off. I think I want her closer.
“Who the hell doesn’t bring a pencil to their first day of school?
” bursts out of her, shock on her face as if she hadn’t meant to say that.
Her cheeks turn pink under my gaze, and her teeth nibble her lower lip.
I have to stop myself from reaching over and tugging it free.
Her plump-as-fuck bottom lip reddens, sending a shock through me that goes straight to my dick.
Great, just what I need in the middle of class.
“I forgot,” I admit with a cocky smile still on my face, shrugging.
Fuck, I’ve never had trouble getting a girl’s attention, but for some reason she seems immune to my charm.
She furrows her brows as she bends forward and grabs a pencil out of her black backpack.
She puts it on my desk, and just before she turns around, I add, “I’m Kane. ”
“I know,” she says, a soft smile on her face. Embarrassment floods through me, remembering the teacher just introduced me. She goes to turn around again, but fuck, I’ll do anything to keep her attention on me. Apparently, making a fool of myself is first on my list of things to try.
“What’s your name?” I ask, needing to know with a sense of urgency I don’t quite understand yet.
All I know is that her answer might just be something I’ve been waiting for my whole life.
She turns back to me, her face unreadable as she looks me up and down.
What I wouldn’t give to be inside her head right now.
She looks at me for a moment as if she’s unsure whether or not she wants to answer. She reaches up and pushes a lock of her long brown hair behind her ear, giving me the most stunning, unobstructed view of her face, and I note a small diamond stud encased in black metal in her nose.
“Avery. My name is Avery,” she says, her voice as sweet as honey, floating through my head again and again.
Five words, that’s all it took for my entire life to change—somehow rearranging the very makeup of atoms, forever altering what made me before to make room for the girl sitting right in front of me.
She just doesn’t know it yet.