Chapter 3
June
Anyone with eyes could tell that there was bad blood between Brian Hood and James Hunter.
I looked away from James and thanked Brian for offering to share his textbook with me.
James sauntered past us with his nose in the air as he looked down cockily at the girls’ lovestruck expressions.
The chestnut lock that fell on his forehead didn’t seem to bother him.
Instead, he tousled it even more with an instinctive but damningly hot swooping gesture.
I sensed Brian’s rage flare up as soon as he looked up and made eye contact with Hunter, who looked down at him with a stormy glare. He walked past us and took a seat.
I suddenly felt his sharp gaze burning me. I shouldn’t have, but my curiosity was eating away at me, and I turned around. James was really staring at me. Still. I felt my stomach turn as I looked into his overpowering gaze.
“Everything okay?” Brian asked in a friendly tone, forcing me to turn back around.
“Yeah,” I responded quickly.
My mind wandered. I always complained to my mom about how awful I thought it would be to go to a private school. Now I could tell that she’d made the right decision—the two people I’d met so far seemed nice. That was already more than I’d hoped for, and . . .
“Typical dickhead Brian,” a voice behind me shouted.
Uh-oh. I’d spoken too soon.
“Jackson, why the fuck are you always talking shit behind my back? Come say it to my face,” Brian retorted angrily.
I heard a jarring metallic screech as Brian got up from his seat and glared at Hunter and his friends.
“Nobody’s scared of a guy like you, Hood.”
I turned around. A tall, heavyset guy and a guy with a bleached buzz cut were taunting Brian.
James didn’t acknowledge Brian even though he was sitting right next to him. He was too caught up in flirting with a blond who was obsessively fiddling with the ends of her bob cut.
“Do you want to get hit again, Hood? Say it, and I’ll gladly hit you.”
Those words caught my attention. One of the two guys lurched toward Brian, and before I realized what was going on, the second guy dove in.
I’m gonna get caught in the middle of this. Calm your damn hormones, guys!
“Come on! I want to see what you two assholes can do,” Brian taunted.
The guy with the buzz cut laughed while the other one glared and clenched his jaw.
But just as they were about to face off, James got up and everyone shut up immediately.
“I’m trying to talk to Sammy, can you not interrupt me for ten minutes?”
His voice was so harsh and authoritative that it made me jump.
He turned his fiery gaze to his friends and then to Brian, who reciprocated his glare. Suddenly he directed his gaze at me. His irises darkened, and he stared so intensely that I had to avert my gaze.
“What about you, Hood? Have you really stooped so low that you’re diddling kids now? Don’t you have any shame?”
Was that asshole really talking about me?
“Hi, guys! Sorry I’m late.”
A strong British accent took me by surprise, distracting me from the scene that had just ensued.
The teacher walked into class, and everyone went back to their desks and acted as if World War Three hadn’t been on the verge of erupting thirty seconds earlier.
“Hi, Mr. Beckett,” a few girls in the front row greeted him with singsongy voices.
My jaw dropped.
What kind of school was I in? Students were required to cover up with outdated uniforms while teachers were allowed to show up wearing brightly colored Hawaiian shirts? Tattoo sleeves covered the ripped biceps peeking out from under his lime-green shirt.
But my enthusiasm waned as the teacher grabbed a sheet of paper off the desk and called my name.
“June White.”
Everyone turned to me.
“June White?”
I raised my hand gingerly.
“Oh, there you are, June. I like your name.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Can you tell your classmates a little about yourself?”
My petrified stare must’ve given me away. I was too nervous to talk in front of a room full of strangers.
“Well, I . . .”
I clammed up as a few girls giggled. The teacher seemed to pick up on my discomfort and asked me to sit back down.
“Okay, June. Maybe another time?”
I nodded, and class started.
The bell rang after two hours, and my stomach growled. I was just about to get in line with the rest of the students leaving the classroom when I realized who was standing next to me.
James was towering over me. Oblivious to the fact that I’d just lowered my head, he stared at me.
He was much taller up close, and I couldn’t help but notice that his shirt reeked of strong cologne that almost made me dizzy. I stood still, clutching my books to my chest as I waited for him to go in front of me, but he didn’t move.
“After you, White.” His voice took me aback.
I walked in front of him silently and picked up my pace to get as far away from him as possible. I didn’t know what kind of look was on his face, but I was too afraid to look him in the eye and find out.
“James, you’re such a dick,” a girl’s voice chided him.
I made it to the hallway with no idea where I was going.
I leafed through the paper tucked into my physics textbook and found the modules that the principal gave me, along with a key card.
My locker number was written at the top.
I walked down the hall until I reached the metal door with my number.
Six. I tapped the key card on the lock, but the door didn’t budge.
Then I dragged it across the lock, but the door still wouldn’t open.
Finally, I tried swiping from the other direction.
Even though the light turned green, the door still refused to open.
I curled my fingers under the edge of the door to pry it open.
My attempts to force the lock were all in vain.
Frustrated, I banged on the door with my fist. The locker let out a metallic boom in reply.
A few students turned around and gave me dirty looks, but nobody offered to help me.
“Getting a little violent, are we?” a voice inquired.
A guy looked at me, intrigued. His eyes were as gray as a winter morning and blond hair framed his face like an angelic halo.
“Do you want some help, or would you prefer beating the crap out of it a little more?”
“Would you mind helping me, please?” I grinned sheepishly.
“None of them work. Go like this: Grab the handle and tap your key card as you pull the door toward you. Try it.”
His tone was extremely calm, like nothing could upset him.
As if by magic, the locker opened.
“Thanks, uh . . .”
“William,” he answered, moving a step toward me.
“Thank you, William.”
“You’re welcome, uh . . .”
“June.”
“I like it.” He said this with ease, as if rescuing damsels in distress on their first day of school was something he did all the time.
I stared at him, hypnotized by his delicate features and admiring his face for a few seconds too long.
He didn’t seem to mind. Then he disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared.
This place is really weird.
My stomach roared at me angrily. I decided not to waste any more time. I’d already ignored the hunger pangs for long enough.
I headed toward a vending machine, and saw a long line of people in front of it. I went to the back of the line. The atmosphere became agitated as a figure cut to the front.
“Get in line like the rest of us,” someone yelled.
“The queen of only caring about herself has arrived,” a guy wearing huge Coke-bottle glasses chimed in.
A blond girl in a cheerleader outfit glared at him threateningly.
“Yeah, you’re right. I am the queen, so shut up and wait your turn.”
I suddenly became hyperaware of how my hair looked like a straw-colored rat’s nest. I almost felt like I was standing in front of an otherworldly goddess.
There was no way a human being could have such beautiful, perfect facial features.
Her hair was so shiny that it looked like it had been woven from honey.
But her haughty expression fell as I heard a familiar voice.
“What the fuck is going on here?” James Hunter demanded, coming within an inch of the poor soul who’d dared to stand up to the girl. His glare made his victim tremble. “What the fuck is the problem here?” he demanded again, without any regard to how rude he sounded.
“N-no,” the boy stammered, terrified. “Problems.”
James’s profile was perfect. He looked like a real-life Renaissance painting created with delicate brushstrokes that accentuated the curve toward the top of his nose and a soft chiaroscuro contrast that highlighted the protruding curves of his pouty lips.
“That’s better. For a second I thought I heard you say something different,” he sneered, as he fiddled with a vape pen.
Meanwhile, the girl had just grabbed her fresh coffee from the machine. She stood on her tippy-toes to reach James’s height. I don’t know if they kissed or not. I averted my eyes until I heard her say, “Forget it, Jamie.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked away like they owned the school.
“I take it you just witnessed what kind of degenerates Hunter and his friends are?”
Brian and Amelia had caught up with me, and I couldn’t help but eye the packet of cookies that Amelia was holding with both hands.
“Why’d Hunter go to juvie?” I asked, in an attempt to hide the fact that I was about to faint from hunger.
Amelia glanced at her brother, who kept silent.
“Let’s just say that what you saw today is just the tip of the iceberg,” she answered as she handed me an Oreo.
My eyes lit up. My life philosophy was very simple—whoever shared food was worthy of friendship.
“Thanks, Amelia.”
I held the cookie with my fingertips for a moment before popping it into my mouth.
“What could be worse than what I saw today?” I asked na?vely as we headed toward the courtyard.
Amelia touched her lower lip with her index finger as if to check if her lipstick was still on. “Do you mean him threatening the teachers, the drug dealing, the fights, the street racing, the multiple incidents of vandalism . . .”
“It sounds like you know him really well.”
The only thing more insatiable than my appetite was my insecurity, and the only thing worse than that was that I didn’t know how to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t mean what I’d said maliciously, but Brian shot me a look that was anything but reassuring.
On her end, Amelia seemed to be struggling. “No, well . . . I meant to say that everyone knows him.”
A question entered my mind. What did she see in that asshole?
“June, trust me. If you want to stay out of trouble at this school, forget Hunter,” Brian interrupted, visibly exasperated.
I didn’t say anything. I was too busy eyeing the pack of Oreos until we found a spot on the lawn. All the benches were taken, so we sat on the grass.
With a look of pity at my hungry expression, Amelia offered me another cookie. Just as I was about to bite into it, the guy who’d helped me open my locker caught my eye.
William.
I watched him sit with his back against a tree trunk, poring over a novel with a worn cover.
“Who’s that?” I asked pointing at him.
Brian had just put on his headphones and had completely tuned us out.
“That’s William Cooper. He’s one of Hunter’s best friends,” Amelia answered, pushing the half-empty packet toward me. I was about to grab the last Oreo, but then I suddenly lost my appetite.
“You’re kidding,” I blurted.
“They’ve been best friends since middle school.”
Amelia stared at a specific area in the courtyard.
Just a few feet away from William, James sat with his group of friends, his arm around a curly-haired girl.
The scene confused me. I’d just seen him in the hallway with that blond chick, and before that I could’ve sworn that he was flirting with another girl in class.
“Isn’t Hunter with that cheerleader?”
“Are you talking about Taylor Hart?” Amelia spat out her name in disgust.
“The chick at the vending machine. Isn’t that his girlfriend?”
Amelia burst out laughing. “Girlfriend? Hunter changes who he’s with four times a day.”
It was a real-life textbook example of what the documentary said last night.
“A male peacock mates with four, five, or even six females,” I muttered. Amelia turned to me with a confused expression.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying I don’t understand how someone like that could get that many women. He’s so rude.”
“Rude? James Hunter is the undisputed king of assholes.” She said this emphatically, but her voice softened almost immediately afterward.
“But despite all that, he knows what he’s doing.
” I saw her look down at her knees, while my imagination created a scene in which she and James were the main characters of a romantic tragedy.
“He and I had a thing last year,” she admitted quietly.
“But things ended really badly. Like really badly.” She craned her neck toward Brian, who was still lost in his own world and wasn’t paying any attention to us.
I let out a soft murmur. “I’m sorry.”
I had no idea what Amelia was talking about, but the peacock theory had been proven.
There was no doubt that he’d done something bad.
This belief was supported by the fact that Amelia was still suffering while James sat on the other side of the courtyard with his hand halfway up another girl’s skirt.
“Maybe it’s better that way. He doesn’t seem like he’s boyfriend material. No offense.”
“You’re totally right. It’s just that—” Amelia looked around cautiously. “James is really hard to resist.”
I snickered. “Well, based on everything I’ve seen today, he’s exactly the type of person I’d avoid like the plague.”
“Yeah, but that’s just a facade he puts on. When you get to know him better—”
Maybe it was rude of me, but I was so surprised that I interrupted her. “Didn’t you say you hated him?”
Amelia looked up and swallowed. “Yeah, of course I hate him. The only thing he’s capable of doing is getting himself and everyone around him into trouble.”
“See? It’s better to just steer clear of him.”
“Do you think it’s enough to just keep your distance?” she inquired.
“Yeah.” I shrugged, fully convinced.
“You have no idea who you’re messing with. If he wants you, he’ll have you.”
Astounded, I blinked several times. I could’ve burst out laughing or sat in shock, but I did neither. Instead, I shielded my eyes from the sun’s glare and looked far in the opposite direction.