Chapter 2 Stevie
Stevie
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Never once did I ever think a similar scene would unfold in real life, especially to me, especially here at Hollow High.
But I swear time slows. I’m positive every head turns with cinematic precision.
I’m certain there’s a soundtrack playing, somewhere, somehow, and it’s one hundred percent a Taylor Swift song.
More importantly, I know I’m the only person with a vagina who is not at all impressed watching Lexington Hall saunter down the hall on the first day of senior year with his designer clothes, too-white teeth, and halo of unnaturally perfect hair.
The slow-motion montage continues for a few more heartbeats when he does a double take, those disarming blue eyes wheeling in my direction and lingering, a look of confusion sweeping across his face as familiarity registers.
But he looks away as quickly as he finds me, and the scene speeds up to real time.
Background noise returns, outplaying Taylor’s romantically tragic lyrics, and then Misty is hopping in place beside me, punching my arm.
“Holy shit balls, Stevie. Did you see the new kid?”
I clutch two textbooks to my chest, still staring at Lex’s retreating back as he disappears into one of the classrooms. “I saw him.”
“No, but did you see his face?”
“I did see his face. I saw it two weeks ago actually, when he wrecked my car and blamed it on me.” Harrowing memories churn to life, drawing my lips into a flat line. “It’s still at the shop. Dad had to go into work late to drop me off since it was already ninety degrees by seven a.m.”
“Wait.” She punches my arm again. “ That was the guy who hit you?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. You never told me about his face.”
My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. He was kind of an ass.”
She pushes up from the row of lockers, her shiny red ponytail swinging side to side as she links her elbow with mine. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair to be blessed with inhumanly good looks and a sparkling personality. No one is perfect.”
Misty has been my best friend since middle school.
She’s a little more extroverted than me, but we both come from lower-class families, putting us outside the perimeters of the in-demand social groups.
We’re not pariahs or anything, but we’re not cheerleaders or homecoming queens either.
It’s always been Misty and me, ever since gym glass in the sixth grade when we were teamed up together for a two-legged race.
She is going to obsess over this new guy.
As the day stretches on, it isn’t long before the gossip train takes off, and Lex’s name is in everyone’s mouths by lunchtime.
Eyes are alight with the gossip surrounding his transfer to our little town outside Chicago, and while I pretend to be unabsorbed, curiosity has me hanging on to every word.
“He was a famous child actor.”
“He was in that TV show called Whispering Tails .”
“His parents are loaded.”
“He moved here from Hollywood.”
“His mother was that actress in that one soap opera.”
It’s been less than five hours, and Lexington Hall is already Hollow High’s renowned golden boy.
I’ve been going to school with these kids since I was five, and I’m pretty sure 70 percent of them still don’t know my name, outside of Choir Girl, that chick who lives on the farm, or Joplin St. James’s sister—even though she’s a grade younger than me.
So he’s been on TV. I’ll never admit to him that I googled that sitcom the night after he rammed his six-figure sports car into me and spouted off his Hollywood accomplishments. I expected his acting chops to shine.
But they weren’t all that inspiring: cheesy camera angles, fake smiles, and dialogue wrought with melodramatics and laugh-track jokes.
Admittedly, he didn’t have a ton to work with, especially in the few commercials I also discovered while scouring the internet for his name.
There was only so much he could do with frozen pepperoni pizzas and their extra flaky crusts.
An image pops into my mind of him sitting at a kitchen island as the camera zooms in for a close up and he moans, “ So flaky! ”
One of my drama friends, Jameson, shoves a ham-and-cheese sandwich into his mouth, talking between chews. “How does he do that?” His eyes narrow at Lex, who is seated at one of the cafeteria tables across from us. “Literally a magnet to every hot chick in this school. Zero effort too.”
While Lex was sitting by himself at the start of lunch, it took less than ten seconds for him to be surrounded. Currently, Natalie and her boobs are taking up most of his personal bubble.
Lex glances up at me, catches me staring, and I whip my gaze away and blink over at Jameson. “Misty claims it’s his face.”
Her ruby-red ponytail bounces in agreement as she gawks at him shamelessly. “That bone structure. Flawless.”
“Mist says he’s the guy who wrecked your Saturn,” Jameson continues. “Brutal.”
I swirl my chili in aimless circles with my spoon. “Insurance is dealing with it, I guess.”
“This Hall guy…he’s an actor. Do you think he’s going to try out for this year’s show?”
My insides pitch at the notion. I hadn’t thought of that.
Lex strikes me as more of the model type. Fashion ads, commercial work. I can’t imagine him gracing the stage in bohemian garb and singing his soul to a live audience. That takes gumption and heart, and Lexington Hall exudes arrogance and steel.
I lean back in my chair, dropping the spoon into my bowl. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? If I get the lead role of Satine, I assumed I’d be acting alongside Barron or Rigs. Maybe even you,” I say to Jameson.
Misty sighs, fluttering her mocha-brown eyes fringed with long lashes. “I’d let him sing for me. I don’t even care what it is. It could be a grocery list. Terms and conditions. Hell, even the directions on an IKEA instruction manual would sound like poetry.”
She is lost to her infatuation.
When the bell rings, I gather my book bag and say goodbye to my friends as we go our separate ways. Algebra is up next. I’m headed down the long corridor to Mr. Mason’s class when a familiar voice catches me off guard.
“Tell her I’m not interested,” the voice bites out, edged with thorns. “I don’t know. Make something up. I don’t fucking care.”
I halt in place, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before I swivel around and my eyes meet with disarmingly clear sky blue.
Catastrophe dances inside them, something almost dangerous.
He has a cell phone pressed to his ear as he trails behind me, stops short, and flops back against the lockers, severing eye contact.
Lex’s voice pitches louder. “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Fine. Just say I’m busy forever.” He disconnects the call and shoves it into his pocket, muttering more curses under his breath. “Fuck it.”
Swallowing, I inch away, not wanting to be a snoop.
But he catches me still lingering in his periphery, and his aggression heightens. “What?” he snaps.
I chew on my lip, my cheeks heating. “Nothing.” I watch as Lex looks straight ahead and closes his eyes, causing a rebellious pang of empathy to stab me in the chest. “Everything okay?”
“Mind your business.”
My face burns hotter. “Right. Sorry.” The empathy dissolves into dust as I turn away.
“Nicks, right?”
I falter again, my back to him. “It’s Stevie.”
“Mm.”
As I swivel around to face him, a few feet from where he leans sprawled against the taupe lockers, I skim my eyes down his well-dressed form: another white button-down paired with expensive-looking blue jeans, a leather belt, and familiar black boots.
They look freshly polished, as if they’ve never stomped through a muddy barnyard or trudged across a dusty field.
There’s a coffee cup attached to his hand, reminding me of the drive-thru coffee I never got to fully enjoy, courtesy of his flashy blue car.
“How was your first day?” I ask.
Instantly, I feel like an idiot.
I watch his light-brown eyebrows bend, almost like the ordinary question has thrown him off-balance somehow.
He slowly cants his head in my direction, his gaze rolling over my denim overalls, wrinkled sea-blue T-shirt, and sheaves of long brown hair, all the way down to my ratty white sneakers. “Why do you care?”
“Just making conversation.”
“I heard you live in that barn off Madison Street. The red one.”
I’m not sure what that has to do with anything. “It’s a farm, but yes. I do.”
“Also heard I might get to hear you sing.”
I frown. “What?”
“The musical,” he says. “Auditions are coming up.”
Oh my God —Jameson was right. “Are you…trying out?”
He shrugs and turns to fully face me, wedging a shoulder against the locker. “Thinking about it.”
I blink at him half a dozen times, his words oozing into my psyche like thick sludge. I can’t make it make sense. “Really?”
“What? You don’t think I’ll be any good?”
“I never said that. You just don’t strike me as—”
“Any good.”
“A stage performer,” I correct. “It’s different from your Hollywood stuff.”
He huffs out a bitter-sounding breath. “Hollywood stuff,” he echoes.
“Well, yeah.”
“You watch my TV show, Nicks?”
“Maybe. I found some commercials too.” I straighten my stance, clear my throat, and press both hands to my chest. “Sooo flaky!” I singsong, mimicking his frozen pizza performance.
“So you do have a TV.”
“I also have YouTube.”
It’s possible a sparkle inhabits his eyes, but it could be a trick of the light. “Bet I made you go out and buy those pizzas.”
My sister did. But I’m not going to tell him that.
I shake my head.
“Uh-huh.” He lifts up from the locker, his expression resorting to its usual slab of stone. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”
“You might. Guess we’ll find out.”
His head tilts sideways. “You don’t strike me as one of those drama kids.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno. You’re a little…” His head cocks farther to the side, one hand lifting and traveling over me from head to toe, an evaluation of my existence brewing in his mind. “Underwhelming.”
I can’t help the little choking sound that falls out.
His opinion of me shouldn’t hurt this much, but it does, it really does, so it’s impossible to wipe the dumbstruck look off my face as I stand there in all my underwhelming glory, gaping at him like he just jammed a dull blade through my chest.
Lex’s eyes flare slightly, almost like he regrets saying it but doesn’t know how to take it back. He doesn’t need to. It’s already out there, echoing in my ears, and I know that word is going to stick with me. Glue itself to my soft heart like an acid brand and liquify it into pulp.
He swallows, throat rolling. Silence pilfers the apology he may or may not give.
“Lex!”
We both flinch.
Natalie skips over to his side, curling her red-tipped fingers around his bicep. He flinches again, a noticeable wince. And then a sharp pullback. His attention shifts from my heartbroken expression to the beaming smile on his left.
“We have chemistry together,” she chirps. “Walk with me?”
Lex frowns down at her and takes another step back. He doesn’t respond. All he does is spin around on his polished boots and storm away in the opposite direction, leaving us both flustered and wide-eyed in the hallway.