Chapter 3
Chapter Three
I pour more Honeycomb Crunch into my bowl just as Zach enters the kitchen, dressed in his dark green sheriff’s deputy uniform.
It’s still weird, but I’ve had all summer to adjust. It suits him, but I never would have guessed he’d choose a career as a cop.
Before our lives fell apart in Alaska, he wanted to be a veterinarian, like Dad.
“Sleep okay?” Zach asks while grabbing a mug from the cupboard above the coffeemaker.
My mouth is full of cereal, so I give him a nod.
Zach pours coffee from the carafe, then adds milk from the fridge. “Can I make you some eggs?” he asks, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and giving his coffee a stir.
My stomach flutters. On a normal morning, eggs would probably be a good idea. Protein and all that. But this will be my first day of high school after three years being homeschooled in the Alaska wilderness, so it’s about as not normal as it can get.
“I’m good.” I tip the bowl to my lips, drinking down the last of the milk. Before my brother can say anything else, I carry my bowl and spoon to the dishwasher, then lift my backpack from the chair and sling it over one shoulder .
Zach opens one arm. I’m not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy right now, but Zach is all I have.
We’ve been through a lot, and I owe him so much.
Today probably feels like a victory for him as much as it does for me.
Even though walking into a brand-new school as an outsider has me scared shitless.
“Have a good day,” Zach says, giving me a final squeeze.
“Yeah, you too.” I walk to the door and slip outside.
Squinting against the bright morning sunshine, I take the path through the dry grass to the road.
Our rental is walking distance to the school, a choice Zach and his fiancée Sofie made for me so I could get to and from practice on my own when he’s at work.
Which is all good but it means I’m taking the crosswalk to the high school way too soon.
Kids who drive are filling up the street parking and student lot and buses chug up the hill to the turnaround.
Like bees to their hive, bodies move toward the big glass doors in the center of the main building.
Though it’s the first day of school, everyone seems to know where they’re going, so I try to blend in, keeping my gaze focused on a spot just ahead of my feet.
It doesn’t matter what people think of me.
I’m going to make the most of this opportunity and fuck anyone who tries to hold me back or get in my way.
You’ve earned it , Zach told me. I ball my fists. Fucking right, I have.
“Hayes!” a guy calls from the right as I weave past two stopped cars in the drop-off lane.
It’s Theo Hannah, my teammate and the closest thing I have to a friend in this town. “S’up, Hannah?” I say, keeping my grin in check. Don’t look so fucking eager to see a friendly face.
He trots over. “Where’s your first class?”
Theo and I fold into the crowd of students flowing through the glass doors, all four of them propped open.
“Uh, Green Pod.” Thanks to the freshman orientation last week, I sort of know where that is. Though I’ve been going to practice five days a week since I moved here in May, that was my first time inside the high school.
“Science?” Theo raises his eyebrows.
“Biology. With Hildenbrand.”
“Oof. He’s tough.”
I shrug. Science is the one subject I feel okay about.
“Wait, I think Charlie’s got him first period too,” Theo adds, nodding toward a group of girls walking ahead of us. “Charlie!” he calls out.
The tallest of the three whips around, her hazel eyes blazing. The red bandana keeping her straight brown hair off her freckled face matches the sleeveless red T-shirt that reveals a slice of tanned stomach above her jean shorts.
“What now?” she snaps.
“Make sure Will gets to Hildenbrand’s class,” Theo says, kind of bossy.
She looks me up and down, and I can’t help feeling like I’m a crab she just cracked open and gutted. It’s sort of annoying. My nerves are jacked up enough.
Then it clicks that this is Theo’s little sister—Charlotte. Charlie .
“Why?” Charlotte puts the hand not attached to her musical instrument case on her hip. That’s right, Charlotte is a band geek. Trumpet? The case is too big for a flute.
“Because you wouldn’t want our star QB to get lost on the first day, would you?” Theo says.
I side-eye him in surprise. I’m dedicated but far from being a star.
“A star QB getting lost sounds way more interesting,” Charlotte claps back, and spins away, her black high-top sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.
“It’s fine,” I reassure Theo while forcing my gaze on anything besides Charlotte. She looks good in those shorts. Or maybe it’s her silky brown hair. Or the burst of freckles I spotted on her tanned shoulders.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Ease the fuck back.
“Actually, do me a favor?” Theo says in a low tone, his eyes on his sister as she melts into the crowded foyer. “Keep an eye on her for me.”
Charlotte seems more than capable of taking care of herself, but I understand. She’s his little sister. “Got it,” I say.
“Thanks,” Theo says before peeling off to the right.
I hurry to follow Charlotte down a long hallway crammed with kids. I spot a couple of teammates. A few give me a nod. I start to relax enough that I can unclench my fists. Charlotte turns a corner and I hurry so I don’t lose her in the sea of bodies.
But this hallway is less crowded, and I just manage to veer back from running her over.
“What class do you have next?” she asks, not breaking her stride.
“Uh, History. McGinley.”
“ Mrs . McGinley,” she corrects. “She’s nice, but watch out for her late policy.”
“Her what?”
“She won’t accept late work. Not even if you’re, like, dead.”
“Got it.” Maybe Charlotte got this info from Theo, who’s a sophomore, but it makes me feel even more unprepared.
Charlotte slips between two groups of passing students and darts into a classroom.
I check the name plate on the door before following her.
Inside, thanks to the big windows at the back of the room, it’s bright, and way too warm, or maybe that’s just me sweating like I’ve run ten sets of bleacher sprints.
Rows of black desks face the white board and a demo table to the left.
Behind the rows are the lab stations, each with a sink and cabinets.
“What lunch do you have?” Charlotte asks while we queue up just inside the door, where the teacher is greeting students as they file in.
A prickle of nerves dance up the back of my neck. “First.”
Her glossy pink lips press together.
“Why?” I ask.
“Same as Theo,” she says. “ You’ll be fine.”
Not a clue what she means by this, and because the teacher calls out that we can sit where we want for today, I’m anxious to snag one of the chairs in the back row before they fill up, so I step around the queue just as two cheerleaders in their white pleated skirts and matching blue and gold vests head for the desks too.
The one on the right looks over her shoulder to give me a sultry glance through her dark lashes.
Sometimes the cheerleaders stick around to watch us practice, so I recognize her face. The embroidered “Victoria” on her vest gives me her name.
“Hey, William,” she says in a singsong tone that sends a shockwave down my spine.
I manage a nod before rounding the last row of desks and grabbing a seat.
I should be used to the cheerleaders after a summer of crossing paths with them, but it still blows me away how fucking good these girls look.
How put-together. Tanned skin and lean limbs and those pouty lips.
How is it that we belong in the same universe?
I spent the last three years being homeschooled by family friends in order to hide from my drug addict mom and her abusive husband.
Not that these girls know any of that shit or ever will, but it’s… wild.
If not for football, I would feel like a total impostor. I still have a long way to go before I feel like I belong—if that’s even possible—but at least I know how to do one thing right, and that’s playing the greatest game on earth.
The two cheerleaders choose seats a row up and to the side.
Victoria keeps glancing at me while unpacking her things and carrying on a hushed rapidfire convo with her friend, a blonde cheerleader the size of a toothpick.
Beyond them, Charlie is in the front row and already has her laptop out.
At orientation last week, everyone who didn’t have a personal laptop got issued one, but it’s still not exactly a piece of equipment I feel comfortable using.
Back in Alaska, the only computer I had access to was at the library and you had to pass a test to use one.
I suck at tests, so I never even tried .
But I’m not in Alaska anymore. And this is high school, where shit counts.
I’ll just have to fake it—which I’ve gotten pretty good at.
By the end of class, I’m trying so hard to keep up with the teacher that I’m not ready for the bell.
When it blares, everyone is already moving for the door.
I scramble to pack up, then fight my way out the door as students start streaming in.
Outside the classroom, Charlotte is waiting with her back against the wall, her instrument case in her right hand.
“Mrs. McGinley’s room is this way,” she says over the slamming of lockers and rising din of conversations, then takes off down the crowded hallway. She’s on the tall side but those lean legs of hers must be extra-long because I’m practically running to keep up.
“Don’t you have a locker for that?” I nod at her instrument case before we part ways around two big dudes. I swear one of them has a beard.
“I have band next,” Charlotte says, plowing ahead, “so it doesn’t make sense. Plus my locker’s all the way in Red Pod.”
“Got it.” I don’t even know where my locker is. They issued me one, but I don’t plan to use it. Most of our textbooks are online. I’m going to have to spend some time figuring out how to access them. Maybe Sofie can help when she’s home this weekend.
We’re nearing another hallway intersection. “Looks like Tori Crenshaw’s got you in her tractor beam.”
“Um, what?”
Charlotte flicks an impatient glance my way. “That’s the only warning you get, QB. Are you going to use your powers for good, or evil?”
I frown while the contents of my rib cage liquify. Because I think she’s dissing me, but…in a friendly way? I’m supposed to be looking out for her, right?
“Bye,” Charlotte says with a sassy little wave, and turns left, melting into the crowd.
I force my eyes away from her tight little ass and weave through the sea of bodies toward where I think McGinley’s classroom is located.
Only, it’s not. There are less people in the halls now—not a good sign.
I whip out my folded-up schedule and check the room number.
Shit. McGinley is 224, and I’m in the low 200s.
“Need help?” a teacher standing in an open doorway asks.
“Uh, yeah. Which way’s two twenty four?”
Just then Victoria slips past the teacher. She flashes him a bright smile. “I can take him there, Mr. Shaw.”
He beams. “Thank you, Tori.”
“No problem.” She arches a slender eyebrow at me before leading me down the hallway. The way she pivots makes the pleated hem of her skirt flare, and for a split second, my throat constricts.
I fall in next to Tori. From the classrooms come fragments of teachers giving instructions and students shuffling into chairs. The bell rings, and I wince. How is it that everyone seems to know where they’re going but me? I should have paid better attention at orientation.
“It’s the first day of school.” Tori waves her hand like she can erase my unease. “She’ll go easy on you.”
We turn the corner. The hallway is completely empty now. “That’s good.”
Tori gives me a sly smile. “You actually care, huh? That’s…cute.”
She sounds surprised, even amused. Great . I stifle a groan and swear to never open my mouth again.
“What’s your Snap?” she asks.
Ahead, the door propped open has Mrs. McGinley’s name on it. I stay focused on getting there.
Tori stops just in front of the door and gives me one last curious look, but I stay quiet. I don’t even have a smartphone, let alone a social media account, something Zach was adamant I avoid for as long as possible.
Inside the classroom, the woman talking to rows of mute students sitting at double desks stops talking, and all eyes turn to me.
“Mrs. McGinley, please excuse William,” Tori says with a pleasant smile she must reserve for teachers because it’s nothing like the looks she’s given me today. It reminds me of Charlotte’s warning. “He’s new here. He needed some, uh, assistance finding your class.”
The teacher’s left eyebrow twitches. “Take a seat, William.”
I hurry into the classroom, avoiding eye contact with the thirty-some pairs of them tracking me to an empty seat in the third row. By the time I settle in, Tori has disappeared from the doorway.