Chapter 1 #2
There’s a sharp intake of breath behind me. I battle the urge to look over my shoulder and witness the moment Caleb Winters realizes I’m a member of Landry’s most disgraced family.
What little is left of it, anyway.
“And this must be Caleb Winters with you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Caleb steps forward, stopping about five feet to my left. Distancing himself from me. “I’m Caleb Winters.”
Confidence saturates his voice. Attention shifts from me to him. Judgmental murmurs morph into excited whispers. Pitying stares become admiring glances.
It doesn’t surprise me. It doesn’t sting, because pain is easier to ignore when you expect it. But it does piss me off.
“I’m sorry we’re tardy. Caleb thought the room was the other way.”
I regret the hasty, false words as soon as they leave my mouth. I’m not a liar. Or I didn’t use to be. But it’s easy—disarmingly easy—to act poorly if that’s what people expect from you.
Everyone in the room is staring at me. But the gaze of the guy standing next to me feels different. Feels heavier, like a weight I can’t avoid. His attention crawls over my skin as an inescapable itch.
I want to ignore Caleb.
To be unaffected by his attention and presence. But I’m … not .
“I’ll let it slide since it’s the first day,” our teacher announces. “Just make sure it doesn’t become a pattern. Take your seats, please.”
There are exactly two open seats left. One in the second row and one in the very back. I head toward the rear of the room, disparaging stares following my journey from front to rear. A wave of snickers travels through the room when I stumble a foot from the chair.
I drop into the seat, willing the heat in my cheeks to disappear as the classmates around me shift at their desks, like unpopularity is a contagious disease.
I focus on my notebook, ignoring everyone in the room except the teacher.
Especially the guy sitting in the second row.
* * *
I stop off at my locker before lunch to dump the three heavy textbooks I’ve already accumulated this morning.
Landry takes its academics very seriously.
My plan is to avoid the cafeteria and eat lunch in the library instead. I’m about to head in that direction when I hear a voice that belongs to someone I’d really rather avoid.
Ryan James is a stereotypical jock. He’s been Landry’s quarterback since whatever age boys start playing football, and the status of that position combined with a seemingly endless supply of self-confidence has granted him some form of popularity.
He spent the first half of the summer directing more concentrated attention my way than I thought him capable of. My best friend—now ex -best friend—Madison was convinced he had a thing for me.
Nothing my dad’s death didn’t take care of.
As I hide behind my locker door, I wonder how Ryan is handling Caleb’s arrival. It’s the first challenge to his alpha male status since kindergarten.
As if I summoned him, I hear another voice I recognize immediately. I shouldn’t know Caleb’s voice well enough to identify it instantly. But I do, it turns out. “Hey. It’s Ryan, right?”
“Right,” Ryan confirms. I smile a bit at the annoyance I can hear in his voice.
“Colt said I should meet him here,” Caleb explains.
“Oh. Cool,” Ryan responds. There’s a little less hostility in his tone. “So, what do you think of Landry so far?”
My initial reason for stalling at my locker was to wait for Ryan to leave and avoid an awkward encounter.
But now I’m waiting for another reason. I’m curious what Caleb will say.
I want to know if he’ll mention the rude girl who led him the wrong way this morning.
If he’ll share anything I don’t already know.
“It’s all right. I already know Landry pretty well from visiting in the summers. Not that much of a change.”
He’s lying . I’m not sure how I know, but I do.
Ryan’s oblivious. “The whole school wants to show you around, man. Just go with it.”
“Won’t be necessary,” Caleb responds. There’s a pause, and then, “You play?”
There must be some football paraphernalia in Ryan’s locker. Probably a framed photo of himself in uniform. “Yeah,” Ryan replies. “Quarterback. You?”
“No. Baseball.”
“Oh, good. You’re here. Was worried you might get turned around.” Colt Adams’s voice joins the conversation. “Must have been Lennon’s fault you got lost earlier.”
Colt laughs. I cringe.
“You know Lennon Matthews?” Ryan asks; to Caleb, I presume. Colt and I have gone to school together since we were five. New students are rare here, which makes Caleb a novelty even if you ignore his last name.
“Not really,” Caleb replies.
“But you heard about her dad, right?” Ryan questions. “Not that much of a surprise, really. I would have overdosed too, if I had to live on an old farm that’s falling apart. Poor dude. And you know her mom was looser than—”
I slam my locker door shut, a brief thrill of satisfaction racing through me as I watch Caleb, Colt, and Ryan jump along with everyone else in the immediate vicinity. The three boys remain silent as I walk toward them, giving up eavesdropping and heading in the direction of the library.
“Don’t stop your conversation on my account, dudes ,” I comment as I pass them by, barely registering their expressions. Colt looks concerned; Ryan uncomfortable. I can’t get any read on Caleb. His face is blank.
But as I continue down the hall, he ends up being the first one to say anything.
“The cafeteria’s the other way, Matthews!”
And that’s the moment I decide I hate Caleb Winters.