Chapter 3 #2
“Any time you think about kicking a ball around, I want you to study instead.”
“That’s crazy. I’ll be studying around the clock.”
Coach points a finger gun at me and winks. “Bingo.”
I click my tongue. “Ugh. Lame.”
“Go on, now. Get yourself to the locker room. I want you to improve your attitude toward schoolwork.”
I kick the grass as I turn away from him. “Fine.”
I scuff away from Coach. This is a living nightmare. Studying is a challenge, but also having no soccer? Unbearable.
Once I’ve changed into my restrictive school uniform including a blazer, blouse with irritating neckerchief, tartan skirt, knee-high socks, and shiny black shoes, I move into the main school building.
I have zero energy to get to my locker. I just want to be done with the day already and it’s not even 9 a.m.
My backpack slings over one shoulder and it’s wearing me down. I fling it behind me, aiming for the other arm stretched behind my back.
Someone yelps behind me. “Ugh. Watch it!”
I look over my shoulder and see the hard edges of Camila Garcia’s reddening face as she grits her teeth and scrunches her fists. “Oh, ahh, sorry.”
Camila smooths down her blazer and fixes her sleek black hair. “Sorry? You’d better be. You just whacked me in the head.”
Before I can yammer a feeble response, Camila looks up and into my eyes. Her lips crook into a sinister smile, realizing it’s me who has wronged her.
“Well, well,” she says in a throaty voice. “If it isn’t the little harlot’s daughter.”
I jerk backwards, running into a student behind me. “Excuse me?”
“You almost sound as sickened as I was when I found that dirty, dirty picture,” Camila says in a menacingly mocking tone.
“What,” I stammer. “What picture?”
Camila pulls out her phone and taps on a photo. “Here’s dearest Mommy, looking her absolute finest.”
Air constricts in my chest as I look at the under-lit and awkwardly framed photo. But it doesn’t matter how bad Camila is at photography. What matters is why she found a deteriorating flyer of my mother in a silver bikini, posing against a metal pole.
“How?” the word trembles out of me. “How did you...?”
“How did I find this?” she asks teasingly as she locks her phone. “Everyone knows my father is a property developer. Imagine my shock when I found out he’d taken me to such a seedy location.”
“My mom,” I stutter, “umm, she hasn’t… It, umm… Not for ten years.”
Camila huffs, brushing me off. “Oh my gosh, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. But it’s your mother. I found old ledgers in the building. Oh, and don’t worry, I have the original for safekeeping.”
Sweat builds on my forehead. “Why? What are you...?”
Camila flicks her sleek chestnut hair, looking off to the side as she says, “Like, I didn’t even want to post it to my story last night, because it’d be admitting I was in such a seedy location.”
My heart pounds rapidly as hope burns inside me. “You didn’t?”
She eyes her glittery manicure and grins. “Only five-hundred people saw.”
I gulp hard, feeling all the blood drain to my feet. “Why… Why?” It’s all I can manage as she struts away from me.
I blink hard, watching the student body merge Camila into the crowd.
Why would she do this? Even though I hate when she personally attacks me, it’s better me than my mother.
It’s not like she did that work because she thought it was fun.
She got that job to make the most money she could to get us out of Logan’s Point.
Grams gave her a job at the cafe, but Mom still wanted to provide more for Maddy and me.
She spent the next few years completing her cafe shifts and then would drive back to Logan’s Point to work nights at the club.
Of course, if I had understood what was happening when I was an infant, I would’ve told her not to do it.
But Mom did what she thought was right. Even if it meant going back to the place she fled and avoiding any contact with my dad.
“Hey, James, how was practice?” Kai asks, walking toward me. He stops dead when I’m still paralyzed with shock. “Whoa. What’s happened?”
I shake my head, keeping my mouth clenched tight. The whole interaction makes me sick to my stomach.
“Jamie?” he asks softly, pulling me off to the side. “You look completely rattled.”
I swallow hard, wincing at the sour taste. “Camila.”
Kai rolls his eyes. “What’d she do now?”
“Have you seen her latest story?”
He pulls out his phone. “I don’t follow her junk.”
I wipe my brow and hunch over. “She posted a picture of my mom.”
Kai makes a strange face. “Why?”
I hug my middle, my eyes darting around the students passing us in the hall. “She found it. My mom’s wearing very little, advertising a club.”
Kai quickly searches on his phone, and I smack my hand over it. “No, don’t. I don’t want to see it again.”
“Let me see it,” Kai says. “Then I know what I’m up against when I tell her to take it down.”
I drop my hand and exhale a shaky breath.
Kai clicks on Camila’s page and shakes his head. “It’s not here.”
I peer over at his phone. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just pictures of her breakfast and her dogs.”
“Maybe it’s already expired?”
Kai slips his phone back into his pocket. “What have I told you about her? She’s all talk, no action. I don’t know why you let her get to you.”
I give him a sharp look. “It was a picture of my mom.”
“I get this time, but I mean the other times. So, she says some things about you being one of the boys. So, what? If you didn’t let her see it hurt you, she’d look for a new target.”
I push away from him. “I’m sorry. I can’t just switch off like you.”
Kai grabs hold of my arm, tugging me back. “Where are you going?”
I turn around and blurt, “How can you date someone who’s friends with her?”
Kai smirks. “Dating? I’m not exactly dating Tabitha. We kissed, that’s all.”
“And apparently you’ve been texting heaps without ever telling me.” I look him up and down with concern. “Since when did you get flirty?”
Kai folds his arms across his middle, leaning against a locker. “I dunno. We partnered up in chem lab and started vibing. Tabby’s gorgeous.”
“Tabby? You’re on a nickname basis with her?”
Kai laughs and I swear his cheeks are growing pink. “Give me a break. Everyone calls me Kai. It’s not a big deal that I shortened her name.”
“It’s cutesy. It’s just weird because you never mentioned liking her, and then I see you two kiss. It was a shock, that’s all.”
Kai peels off the locker and pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you in the loop from now on.”
“Oh, I wasn’t saying…”
“I like her, Jamie,” he says softly. “I don’t want to mess it up. Maybe we will start dating for real. You know, like, official.”
A jitteriness runs through my veins. Kai. Dating. Weird.
“Look, I’m sorry if I was harsh before,” he says. “I knew something was off with you when I saw you. Makes sense now.”
My chin dimples as my bottom lip balloons out. “Camila wasn’t the only thing ruining my day.” Kai leans in, waiting. I blow out a breath and blurt it out. “I’m off the team.”
Kai’s mouth hangs open. With the way his eyes grow circular, it’s like he wants to gasp, but he’s on mute.
I rake my hands into my hair, shaking my head. “I know. I can’t understand it.”
Kai clears his throat, life coming back into his face. “What? I mean, what? Has Coach Anders had a total breakdown or something? He’d have to go insane to kick you off the team.”
I slump against a locker, my legs officially turning to jelly. “To be fair, I’m not kicked off the team. I’m benched until my grades improve.”
Kai scoffs, throwing his head back. “What a load of crap. As if what you do in the classroom matters on the field.”
“Coach said he doesn’t want soccer to be a distraction.”
“But you love soccer. It’ll be a distraction thinking about not playing. James, did you protest? How could you walk away without fighting this?”
I pull myself off the locker to stand taller. “Because it’s useless, Kai. If my grades stay low, I lose my scholarship and I’m off the team, anyway. I can’t stay on the team if I no longer attend Ashworth Academy.”
Kai settles an arm across my shoulders and leans his head against mine. “I get it. This sucks. Then Camila puts the cherry on top before you even get to your first class.”
“I…” I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Never mind, the bell rings overhead, giving me an easy out. “I gotta get to my locker. See ya later.”
Kai smiles, squeezes my shoulder, and then turns in the opposite direction. “See ya.”
Why does this bother me so much? As I watch Kai walk away, I want to be happy for him.
He genuinely seems to want to know Tabitha better.
I just thought we were non-daters together.
He acts like I’m supposed to be neutral and not into guys or anything girly.
Since when was it okay for him to show some vulnerability?
I swallow uncomfortably and move toward my locker. I know why this is so uncomfortable. Because I doubt this will be a two-way street. He’s never given me any indication he’d be okay with another guy hanging around who happens to be my boyfriend.
“Okay, students, get moving,” Vice Principal Franklin calls as he strides down the hall. “Classes won’t teach themselves.”
I grab what I need for class and shove the rest of my bag into my locker. Oh, man. I’m jealous of my bag. I just want to hide away for the rest of the day, too.
I get it together and meander my way to my math class.
Ahead, Camila and Yvette giggle and chat behind cupped hands.
My mood plummets further as I walk into the classroom behind them.
Not only did I have a run-in with ragey Camila, but now she has her partner in crime to back her up.
The only thing worse is when Tabitha joins and the trio is united.
Ugh. I can’t stand the Miss Perfects.
I sit at my desk in the back row, slumped down, and tune out their girlish giggles.
Aunt Maddy has accused me in the past of being jealous of them.
In what universe would I want to be friends with these girls?
My friends are absolutely gaga about Yvette, calling her, “every man’s fantasy.
” And now I live in a world where Kai is into Tabitha.
In the past, Kai always said he liked me because I’m not a girly-girl.
Is that, so he’s not attracted to me? Am I a complete turn off?
Oh my gosh. Will I never find a boyfriend because I’m not like these girls? Will no boy ever want to date a tomboy?
I search the classroom for couples. The playing field is lowered at school because we all dress in this stupid uniform, but there are some girls who strive to make this look cute.
And there are guys who eat it up. My eyes land on Tim Field, one of the Mr. Handsome types all the girls fawn over.
He makes the uniform have that effortless, dapper look.
Something Kai could never pull off. So, why is Tabitha into him?
This is so confusing.
To make matters worse, my teacher, Mr. Pritchard, has started the lesson and I have no idea what he’s talking about.
There’s a long equation on the board with lots of letters, minus signs, and parentheses.
He walks to his desk, asking us to solve the equation.
I can tell by the way other students lower their heads and begin working on the solution that Mr. Pritchard gave us a starting point.
Oh, geez. I got nothing.
I copy the equation into my notebook and then glimpse the kids on either side. Even though I see some of their work, it doesn’t help me understand what I’ve written or what I’m meant to do with it.
Oh, crap. What’s he doing?
I gulp.
Mr. Pritchard is making his way toward my desk.
“Miss West,” he says, landing in front of me.
He’s holding a wad of paper and pulling my classmates’ attention my way. From the corner of my eye, I spy Camila and Yvette looking over. As they whisper behind cupped hands, heat prickles my neck, and I know I’m turning a brighter shade.
Mr. Pritchard puts the papers on my desk. “This is a study guide and some extra problems for you to work on. I’m also available during office hours for extra help.”
Murmurings rustle around the classroom and shoulders nudge in my direction.
Mortifying.
He taps the papers. “I don’t want you falling behind any further.”
Oh my gosh, just go away! “Okay,” I mutter.
He walks away, and the murmurings have a hint of laughter to them. I slink further down in my seat. Seriously, won’t this day just end?
I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. I turn Yvette and Camila’s way. They’re both intently staring at me, shaking their heads.
“Does she need to go to a remedial school?” Camila says loudly enough for everyone to hear.
An eruption of laughter follows.
“She can’t help it,” Yvette replies. I shift in my seat, cringing. “It’s hereditary.”
It’s hard to take a breath, like she’s just whacked me in the chest with a bat.
Camila giggles, nodding. “We know who her mother was.”
As rumbling laughter swells around the room, Mr. Pritchard clears his throat and sits at his desk. “Okay, okay. Settle down and get back to work.”
Well done, sir. Let them get their jabs in first.
The classroom quiets except for the sounds of scribbles against paper.
I try my best to get the girls out of my head.
Even though that was pretty mild compared to other insults I’ve heard, it still takes a minute.
I look down at the formula on my page. I then look at the papers Mr. Pritchard left.
How are more of these problems going to help me figure this stuff out? It won’t suddenly make sense.
I flinch for the rest of the class, ready for another slanderous attack.
A few boys mutter about a tiny silver bikini, and my skin crawls.
The girls don’t say anything else. However, it’s Mr. Pritchard who gets on my nerves.
He remarks three more times about my extra homework and to see him between classes or after school for more tutoring.
Hard pass.