Walk With Me (The Love in Motion #1)

Chapter 1

Eden

If I have to stare at one more limp burger, be it meat or the veggie equivalent, I’m gonna scream.

Holcroft Academy is a private school, and this is the best they can do?

I’ve seen boob patties with more umpf than what the cafeteria is serving.

Like, I don’t even understand how they can get the burger and bun flatter than flat. And why is it grey?

Thank fuck I only have one more academic year left. I curse not having the option of dropping out of school like I could’ve in the UK. By sixteen, I could have gotten my GCSEs and become a starving artist straight out of high school. Let’s be honest, even after college it’s where I’ll end up.

Sighing, I pick up the McDisapointment, add it to my tray and continue to shuffle down the line. The fruit looks edible, but then I remember I would rather chew on tree bark than eat squishy bananas or bruised apples. The half packet of Haribo will have to serve as pudding, I suppose.

After swiping my meal card, I turn to review my seating options.

Holcroft is like any other school as far as groups and hierarchy are concerned.

You have the jocks and their gaggle of sycophants in the left corner near the fire exit.

The alarm doesn’t work, so they like to keep it propped open for us all to freeze.

Guess it never occurs to them that the rest of the school doesn’t run up a sweat right before lunch. Oh well, if I get hypothermia I have a valid excuse to skip a few classes.

To the right of the jocks are the cheerleaders and band members. Maybe that’s one difference between Holcroft and other schools. The band is cool. No geeks there, just hella talented musicians, which I’m down for.

We still have the math nerds, or as I like to call them, people with above-average intelligence. The computer whizzes and science nuts. On the opposite side of the room is where my people reside. The artists, or fuck-ups, depending on which parent you ask.

Making my way through the crowd I drop next to my best friend, Pia. She’s an immigrant like me, although she came all the way from exotic Dubai, whereas I landed from Leicester in the UK. The most fascinating thing about the place was when they found the remains of a king under a carpark.

Pia is the heir to billions of dollars. I’m heir to a rusted VW Golf that’s still sitting on my grandparents’ drive back in Blighty. Despite our vast monetary differences, we are like two peas in a pod. We met on the first day of high school and that was that.

Across the table is Todd. He’s Pia’s boyfriend of ten months and a nice guy.

If anyone deserves Pia, it’s him. He’s like the most genuine person I’ve ever met.

Next to Todd is Bella. She’s four foot one with a seven foot attitude.

Neon pink hair and tatts. Funny as hell to hang out with and queer like yours truly.

Then there’s me, I guess. I make up the last of our troop.

Five foot nine, with long jet-black hair.

The undercut is a relatively new addition.

I felt I really needed to amp up the gay this year.

I have grey eyes and a septum piercing. My clothes are a steady stream of black skinny jeans and large band hoodies.

Not forgetting my battered Doc Martens. My mum gave up trying to dress me in anything remotely form fitting from the waist up when I was six.

As far as school goes, Holcroft isn’t the worst. Sure, there are divisions in social groups, but we seemed to have missed out on the obligatory bullying that every other school stands by.

The jocks don’t stuff people into lockers, and the gay kids are left alone.

That might be because a few of said jocks are gay as well as the captain of the cheer squad.

It’s a harmonious atmosphere, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.

All I want to do is find a nice place by the ocean and create art.

Pia thinks I’m already becoming a reclusive old lady because I have zero desire to hang out at parties getting piss drunk and vomiting everywhere.

Personally, I don’t see the problem in wanting a quiet life.

Why does being seventeen mean I have to conform to every stereotype ever written about kids my age?

At least I have my parents on my side where that’s concerned. They’re more than happy that one of their kids doesn’t intend to get arrested or pregnant by eighteen. Unlike my younger sister, who is only fourteen and already the devil child.

Like, she woke up on her thirteenth birthday and suddenly became Lucifer. Mum and Dad are going to have a hell of a time with her, and I, for one, am super thankful I’ll be away at college. I’ll happily do the older sister bit when Jenna is no longer a hormonal arsehole.

So, I intend to get through this year, slink off to college, and then try my best to make a living off my artwork. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be living alone by the beach in less than fifteen years. Perfect.

“Earth to Eden. Oi!”

“Ow, fuck, P.”

She’s rolling her eyes at me. “I was talking to you, and you were zoned out.”

“So bodily harm was the solution?”

Todd chuckles. “You’re such a wuss.”

I am, it’s true. “Next time could you just wave a hand in front of my face. I bruise easily.”

Snorting, Pia leans her head on my shoulder. “I always forget you’re like a fragile peach.”

“Fuzzy all over?” Bella comments with a grin.

“My fuzzy bits are none of your concern,” I shoot back just in time for Sloane Bishop to hear as she passes by. My face heats up as she smirks at me. Sloane is the cheer captain. The gay and gorgeous cheer captain. I think I’ve spoken to her once the entire time I’ve attended Holcroft.

Pia holds in a snort long enough for Sloane to pass by before she slaps me on the back and belly laughs. “That was brilliant.”

Shoving the now cold slab of grey veggie burger and stale bun in my mouth, I choose to take the high road and ignore her.

It’s not the first time I’ve embarrassed myself in front of a pretty girl, and it won’t be the last. I managed to inherit my dad’s severe lack of game, and I’m okay with it.

Maybe I’ll get better in college, or I’ll die a virgin with only my paintbrushes and cats. Time will tell.

The bell rings and the entire cafeteria moves at the same time, creating a crushing mob as we try to make our way to afternoon class. I have art so I’m chill. Ms Billings is the best teacher here and is always late, so I’m in no rush.

“Yo, UK,” I hear being called across the sea of teens. I’d love to ignore it, but considering I’m the only British teen here I can’t exactly feign ignorance.

Turning, I watch Bryce Buckley, the football captain, make his way over. He’s the quarterback, which I’m told is impressive. His ability to draw is more of an achievement to me, but each to their own.

“Yo, can I sit next to you? I need you to, like, decrypt what Ms Billings says into words I can compute, ya know.”

Honestly, I don’t. Ms Billings isn’t exactly explaining anything other than how to shade and use lighting.

Not difficult to comprehend, but I can’t say that’s the same for everyone.

If Bryce needs a hand I don’t mind helping.

He’s okay for a jock. Lets me get on with my work and isn’t a complete caveman.

I shrug. “Sure.”

We walk to class in silence, which is preferable. My head is already on my art piece that is close to being finished.

We are the last to arrive, but it makes little difference. We have assigned spots and easels. Bryce disrupts the flow of the room by dragging his over to the spot next to me. Pia, Todd, and Bella all chuckle. Whatever, I just wanna paint.

The lesson goes off without too much disruption from my new neighbour. I spend some time talking to him about his piece and he impresses me. I seriously doubt he understands how talented he is. Bryce only thinks about football, which is a crying shame in my opinion.

Our next class is my nightmare. Gym. I mean, surely at my age I should be given the choice whether or not I want to exercise. That has to be a decision I am capable of making for myself, right?

No. According to drill instructor Mr Ass Hat Porter, I am not capable of making that choice, and therefore have to participate. It’s the only class I’m close to failing, to be honest. Simply because I refuse to do more than the bare minimum and in my regular school clothes.

As expected, the cheer squad is throwing themselves around the gym when we make our way out of the locker room. It defies my understanding of how anyone can be that flexible. Bryce shoots me a smile and heads over to his bros and immediately starts lifting weights.

I make eye contact with Mr Ass Hat and smile before taking a lazy walk over to the treadmills. Walking is classed as exercise and there’s fuck all he can do about it as I set the speed. I’m barely walking faster than a shuffle, but it’s enough. He scowls at me but leaves me alone.

Pia and Todd join me, and we have a thrilling conversation about the new art exhibition starting next week in town.

“Hey,” a voice says far too close to my ear, causing me to stumble. Maybe Doc boots aren’t a good choice on treadmills.

Turning, I stare at Sloane Bishop, who is looking at me with a smile.

“Um, hi?” Smooth as always.

She grins and cocks her head. “Did you just say hi in the form of a question?”

“Probably.” As I said before, I’m no stranger to making a tit of myself in front of pretty girls. Now I just lean into it and deal with the embarrassment at a later date. Usually over a pint of ice cream.

“Okay then,” she laughs. “Mr Porter has made us gym partners.”

My eyes shoot to Mr Ass Hat. He’s grinning at me like a psycho. God damn him. Why can’t he just leave me alone? I truly can’t understand what his goal is. He’s tried for three years and failed to get me to become one with aerobic exercise. Like get the fuck over it, dude.

“Eden?”

My eyes snap back to an amused looking Sloane. “Right, um, okay.”

I watch her hand reach over the console of my snail’s pace walking machine. She hits the stop button. I cease moving my legs and let myself get carried off the belt by the last turn of the cogs.

“Want to do some stretches?” Sloane asks.

I look at her like she’s insane. I couldn’t stretch if I wanted to. I’m pretty sure all my muscles would just snap. Turning, I look for some support from my friends. Of course, I receive none because this is far too entertaining.

Time to get real. Facing Sloane again, I beckon her to follow. We arrive at the edge of the gym, and I can feel eyes on us.

“Okay,” I begin before waving a hand up and down myself.

“You see this? This is not made for stretching, running, jumping, or anything other than leaning over an easel or snack table. Porter is out of his fucking mind, and I don’t want your grades to suffer because of me.

Let’s just pretend you got me to jog or something and leave it at that, yeah? ”

There, crisis averted.

Sloane bites her lip before answering, “No can do, sorry.”

What the hell does that mean? I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. “What?”

“Porter has a point. Exercise is important for so many reasons. Mental health for one.”

“My mental health is top notch, ta.”

“I’m sure it is, and we can keep it that way with a bit of light cardio.”

I nod. “We could also keep it that way by doing none of that and leaving me to my life. I mean come on, Sloane. Do you really want to waste your time on a lost cause? Surely, you’ve got better things to be doing, like practising for whatever tournament is coming up, or football game.”

Sloane coughs up a laugh. “Wow, you really don’t want me to help you.”

Slinging my hands in the air, I look at her with pure indignation. “I didn’t ask for help in the first place.”

Another lip bite. “He’ll fail me if you don’t participate. It’s part of the rules.”

“Fuck off,” I snort before realising I just cursed at her.

“I didn’t mean that literally,” I backpedal.

“I just mean there’s no way he’d fail you.

No offence, Sloane, but even if you weren’t the star of the cheer squad, your family owns half the town.

Porter would piss his pants if he had to fail you. ”

She grins. “True.”

I think we’re getting somewhere. “Great, so we’ll just leave it there then, yeah? Forget all about this.”

Her eyes light up and I’m gonna take a wild guess I’m not going to like whatever she’s about to say.

“Sorry, Eden. Those are the rules, and I follow the rules. He probably won’t fail me, but he could. And if he does, that’s on you. Could you live with that? Taking my dreams away.”

Jesus Christ, how has my day gone so wrong?

“Sloane, come on…”

“We’ll start next class,” she beams. “Bring some workout clothes, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” she adds, before leaving me standing by the wall looking outraged.

I watch her high-five Porter, then join the rest of her squad.

He gives me a thumbs up. I’m too shocked to do anything but stand there for the rest of the class.

Eventually, Pia scoops me by the arm and drags me to the locker room. Because my gym period is always at the end of the day, I never shower at school. I’d rather stink for twenty more minutes and enjoy the bathroom at home where there isn’t other people’s hair in the drain.

Today is no different, apart from the fact I stand staring at my tiled wall as the water soaks my hair. Pia dropped me off and I sort of zombied my way up to my ensuite.

“Fuck!” My shout echoes through the bathroom. I was so close to finishing high school without any real drama. Now I’m going to be stuck with Sloane Bishop and fresh air.

What the actual fuck?