Love in Development (Love & Games #1)

Chapter 1

The squat cement brick building could have been a school anywhere—unlike my old school, which had character—and the metal bike racks out front were easy to find. I locked my bike. Not that anyone would want the hunk of junk.

A boy with dark hair and a sunny smile looked like he was about to speak to me, and I turned my back. I didn’t need to get distracted on a side quest like that. Maybe I would make a friend or two, like Mom wanted me to, but not with a good-looking boy. That was just asking for trouble.

Get your head in the game, Molly.

The noise level of the students greeting each other for the first time since summer already had me wishing for my headphones.

I needed to avoid the mobs today. Like a video game, high school was full of random hostile attacks.

And—as if the mere thought brought the mean girls out—a group of short-skirted, cleavage-showing, hair-flipping Barbie dolls pushed past me.

One wearing enough makeup to start her own theater company turned and folded her arms under her breasts, which threatened to escape from her scrap of a shirt. “Did you just get in my way?”

“Sorry.” I hoped to just smooth everything out and make nice. The last thing I wanted was to start a fight on my first day.

“My skin is delicate. I bruise easily.”

Of course you do. “It’s very crowded, isn’t it? Nice to meet you.” I offered a smile, forcing it into my eyes. I had to make the rude girl believe me, yet I wouldn’t fawn.

“Are you serious?” Barbie stepped in and pushed my shoulder.

I wasn’t ready and stumbled back, tripping, and thankful for the jean jacket that took the brunt of the fall on my elbows. I looked up from the pavement just as one of the Mean Girls cohorts laughed and scooped up the conveniently dropped bag. A trap. I’d fallen for it...literally.

“You should watch where you’re going.”

Her smug smile reminded me of the teeth of a succubus. I felt the urge to hack her down with a sword. Instead, I stood and dusted off my worn blue jeans and ignored the sting in my forearms.

Barbie spun away, then stopped in her tracks.

“What’s going on here?” To go with the stereotypical Mean Girls, a stereotypical gym teacher stalked over, blowing her whistle, ready to take someone down. She was all muscle, clad in sweats, and hair in bun.

In my experience, teachers wanted to be fair, and that usually meant punishing everyone.

Just like at home. First Mom and Dad with their constant arguments, now this.

Why did I always have to be the grown-up?

I looked up to the morning sun for help I knew wasn’t coming and released a sigh.

The warm air gathered on my forehead in a sheen of sweat. Could things get any worse?

Barbie looked over her shoulder in anger, likely as frustrated by the presence of a teacher as I was. She flipped her hair again and turned slightly back but crossed her arms as if readying for a fight.

I’d take all the blame if I didn’t do something fast. I grinned. “Thanks for your concern. I’m just clumsy.”

Barbie’s look turned to confusion. Satisfaction rolled through me.

The gym teacher—radar diffused for the moment—nodded and walked away to go get into someone else’s business.

Barbie and her friends glared, but a fresh wave of students separated us. I was safe—for the moment.

A soft lip-smacking came from behind me, followed by a voice used to being obeyed. “I saw what you did.”

I adjusted my bag before turning to the new threat.

So far, my day was off to a roaring start. So much for Mom’s directive to make friends. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The girl in front of me had no-nonsense, straight black hair: shoulder-length and parted on the left side.

She wore a gray T-shirt displaying a square filled with white sheep.

Outside the box was a single black one. She wore distressed black jeans and biker boots with studs.

The tough look was a little thrown off by the bright pink lollipop that she slipped back into her mouth—the source of the lip smacking.

I couldn’t afford another confrontation before I had even signed in. Mom would never forgive me. I turned, sheathing my imaginary sword, and flowed with the rest of the student body through the double doors into the building.

“Stephanie is now gunning for you,” the lollipop girl said.

So, Barbie was Stephanie. I was close. They rhymed. I’d remember her name. “I just want to fly under the radar and get my senior year over with.”

“I’ve never gotten along with her either. But you won’t make it without some protection,” she said.

I stuttered to a halt. There was no way to read any of the signs through the bodies packed like sardines.

Protection? Was Lollipop Girl the school version of the mob here?

And who would protect me when I lowered my shield, only to be betrayed?

I tried not to think of RogueStriker and the knife he’d twisted in my back. This was real life, not a game.

“I can take you to the office,” Lollipop Girl said.

I didn’t really have a choice. But this girl was just as likely to beat me up in the stairwell for fun as she was to help me. Though there were worse things than a physical beating.

“The name’s Lin, by the way. L-I-N.”

I wove my way through the crowd, following Lin’s quick steps. Though I’d been in track, there were just too many people cutting between us. It wasn’t like I could hurdle them. When I inevitably fell behind, the girl’s firm hand gripped my denim jacket, keeping us close.

“And you are?” Lin asked.

“Molly.”

The bell rang just as we entered a door decorated with a black wreath. Little white ghosts dotted the circle, and a glittery purple “Boo” filled the center. Halloween wasn’t far off.

I was starting to see Lin’s pink orb on a stick as a magic wand. Whether the sorcerer behind it was an ally or an enemy, I had yet to determine.

She collected my schedule—complete with locker number and combination—then tugged me by my backpack back out the door with one hand while perusing my schedule with the other. “Nice. We have some classes together— homeroom, AP English, and digital art after lunch. So, you’re an artist too?”

Uncomfortable with being dragged around, I dug in my heels and refused to budge. There was a ripping sound, and my backpack gave way, spewing books like an opened loot chest. I sighed.

Lin paused at the repeated thuds. “Whoops.”

Whoops was right. At least she had a conscience, squatting down to help pick up the battered and bruised textbooks. But I was done being this girl’s plaything. “Enough. I can do it myself!”

Lin straightened her back and met me eye to eye, holding out my precious idea book.

A slow smile stretched across her face, shifting the lollipop tucked into her cheek.

With the white stick protruding from her lips, she spoke around the candy.

“I like your attitude, Molly. I think we’re going to be fast friends. Meet me for lunch?”

The irritation melted away as I saw myself in her. I nodded.

A few hours later, at lunch, a pixie sat next to us, talking a mile a minute. Between Lin the lollipop chaos sorcerer and now a pixie, I wondered if I was in some sort of fantasy game.

Lin spoke around bites. “Molly, this is Charisse.”

“Lin never makes friends. Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you meet Lin? It’s ever so nice to have someone else to talk to.”

The pixie couldn’t have been five feet tall, her blond wisps in—what else?

—a pixie cut, framing blue eyes that were at least two times too big for her heart-shaped face.

A tiny chin rested between both hands as she leaned across the table, elbows supporting, and looked expectantly at me.

Even her clothes were gauzy and sparkly.

“You don’t need anyone to talk to.” Lin grumbled as she took another bite of her hamburger. “Charisse is what some people politely refer to as a thespian.”

The food here was much better than at my old school. The company was infinitely more interesting. I might actually like it here.

An open milk carton landed on my tray, rolling and pooling milk all over my food, then onto the table. I shot backward, my chair screeching in protest just before the milk dripped onto my jeans.

Did I have a target embroidered on my jacket?

Stephanie crowed, looming behind me.

Looked like the dragon had arrived. I changed my mind about the Barbie metaphor. Going forward, Stephanie was going to be a Big Bad. Whether or not she was a Boss, I wasn’t yet sure. Maybe a Mini-Boss. At the very least, she had Adds, the Mean Girl additional enemies, rounding out her crew.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“Stay away,” Lin growled.

I almost smiled. I had my own group. Protection, Lin had called it.

“Ignore her,” Lin said. “I do.”

High school—senior year—was only a medium-level dungeon. And I was already building my team. Mom would be proud.

THE BELL RANG, AND I rammed the last of my books back into my locker with the remains of my backpack. I shut my locker door and jumped. Lin and Charisse leaned against the lockers on either side of me.

“Yes?” What did they want? It was only day one, and in-person friendship was already feeling like too much.

They linked their elbows through each of mine. “You’ll see. It’s going to be fun,” Charisse said.

“But I need to find a job. College isn’t going to pay for itself, you know.”

“I’ll think about some good places that might be hiring if you come with us,” Lin said.

“Not many places will hire a seventeen-year-old high school student with difficult hours besides fast food.” I said, not very hopeful. But I followed.

As soon as I stopped dragging my feet, Lin let go, but Charisse continued to hang on to me, oblivious to my attempts to disengage.

“Ooh, look at that hat. Where did you get that? Do they have them in red? Gosh, I would just love a red hat like that. What a pop of color that would be!” She dropped my arm and wandered over to accost a girl headed in the same direction as us.