I paused in the doorway to see her still sitting there with her cat on her lap and a coffee mug in her hand. “Careful, Aunt Lucy, you’re coming dangerously close to fretting.”
Her lips quirked up in a grudging smile. “I don’t fret. I nag. There’s a difference.”
“Uh huh.” I laughed as I headed toward the door. “Well, you won’t have to do either soon enough. I’ll be out of here.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” she called after me in a sing-song voice.
I let the door snap shut behind me and wrapped my sweater closer around myself as I headed toward the main street leading to the school. It would no doubt warm up as the day went on, but the morning air held a chill as I walked the frighteningly empty sidewalks.
I understood that not every town could be as overcrowded as Manhattan, but these deserted streets looked like something out of a zombie apocalypse.
I turned a corner and the school was impossible to miss. The closer I got, the more people I saw. Cars were pulling into the parking lot as I crossed the street, and small clusters of teenagers were piling in through the front door.
I passed through the parking lot and was surrounded by people calling out to one another in greeting. It was all so very wholesome. Everyone knew everyone, and the way they were dressed and the cars they drove made me feel like I was on the set of some primetime sitcom filled with white picket fences and an annoying laugh track.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I just knew it would be a text from Taylor.
At least Taylor missed me.
The moment I stepped through the doors of Lindale High, one of my lifelong dreams came true. I finally knew what it meant to be a celebrity.
The stares, the whispers…the stares.
Holy crap, people. Hadn’t anyone in this town learned the art of subtlety?
Apparently not. But whatever. I didn’t care. Let them stare, right? I had nothing to hide.
I got my class schedule, then half-listened to some dweeb named Spencer as he gave me the official tour of the school. As if I could get lost in this school, which basically consisted of four major hallways that linked together to make a big square.
It wasn’t exactly rocket science to find my way to my first class.
“There you are!” Callie caught up with me after my second class. I almost didn’t recognize her without the wig and the makeup, but that big smile was hard to mistake.
“Hey,” I said as she fell into step beside me.
“How’s your first day going?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Is there a word that accurately sums up boring and depressing, but also with a hint of underwhelmed?”
She laughed. “I’ll ask Willow. She aced the SATs. I bet she knows the vocab word for that.”
I smiled for the first time all morning. It was kind of hard not to smile around Callie, and it didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Walking next to her was like walking beside someone handing out candy or money or something. Everyone heading toward us suddenly smiled. People walking past said hello.
I went from being the object of silent scrutiny to the sidekick of Lindale’s most popular sweetheart. Nerds, jocks, weirdos with face piercings and tattoos–they all nodded and smiled at the bubbly little pixie at my side.
We passed a group of pretty girls. The kind of girls who actually possessed some sense of fashion. Cheerleaders, most likely. A tall blonde in the middle cut us a killer look as we passed, but of course Callie gave her a bright smile and a wave. “That’s Savannah.”
I nodded. “Ah. The famous Savannah I heard so much about the other night.”
“Yeah, she’s the lead princess now,” Callie said.
“I love that you managed to say that so seriously,” I said. “Lead princess?” I shook my head. “So lame.”
She laughed. “Maybe. But it’s the best money you can get in this town while still in high school.”
I sighed. I shouldn’t need money. I didn’t need money. And I wanted to be a ‘princess’ even less.
Once we passed Savannah and her mean-girl crew, Callie turned to me to explain. “Savannah’s actually pretty nice, she just doesn’t really hang out with us at school, you know?”
I arched my brows. I could imagine.
“Willow’s the same,” she said. “And Flynn, actually, now that I think about it.”
I tried not to flinch at the mention of the hottie who’d laughed at me like I was a freakin’ joke the other day.
“We all kind of do our own thing at school and outside of work, but it’s a good group. They'll have your back.”
I forced a smile. Have my back against what? No clue. Did I care? Not even a little.
I wouldn’t be here long enough to find out.
I’d be back home where I belonged any day now. This was basically my new mantra. It was the only way I could survive this nightmare. The call with my mom this morning had only left me more on edge, though. I mean, she’d been saying the same thing for weeks. And while I wouldn’t exactly say my mom was a liar, she definitely knew how to spin a story.
She’d married rich—AKA, my dad—but if she hadn’t gone the charity route, she would have made a killer PR person. Which was all fine and good when she was getting me out of trouble or making the rest of their socialite friends think that we were the perfect family, but now?
I didn’t want her spin. I wanted results.
“Do you have lunch after your next class?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Great! Me too. Come sit at my table.”
“Sure. Sounds good.” I headed to the next class, walked into a room full of stares, and then headed toward the back.
And straight toward Flynn.
He was slouched in his seat in the back row, that dark hair in his eyes and a row of empty seats between him and the rest of the class. “New girl,” he murmured by way of greeting as I walked past him toward an empty seat of my own.
“Rebel without a cause,” I muttered back.
His smirk made me want to slam my bag into the side of his head before setting it down.
I didn’t, of course. I wasn’t a fan of physical violence. It tended to mess with one’s nails.
I glanced over to see him buried in a book, like he’d already forgotten me.
Nope, I was not one for violence. But for this guy? I might be willing to make an exception. His self-righteous smugness grated on my nerves, and now pretending I didn’t exist?
I was not a fan.
I sank down in my seat with a sigh. I had a little time before class started, so I took out my phone and tortured myself some more by watching all my friends go on with their lives without me.
Taylor’s text from earlier was about homecoming. Of course it was. Senior year was everything she and I had been waiting for. Homecoming, prom...me being crowned queen at both.
That was what this year was all about.
Taylor: Homecoming nominations are all anyone is talking about. And it’s only the first day! Can you believe it?
I could believe it.
And then another she’d sent me along with a pic of her, Logan, and a few guys from our crew at lunch.
Taylor: Logan’s telling everyone you’re his date so, girl...you’d better get your butt back here by then.
I shut down texts and scrolled through photos. Logan was in nearly every one. He’d be voted homecoming king for sure. And everyone knew I was supposed to be his queen.
I would be his queen.
I had three weeks. Plenty of time, right? Three full weeks for my mom to work her magic and get me back home. But even if she didn’t…
I stared at the photo of Logan grinning amidst a group of girls who’d be all too ready to pounce if I didn’t stake my claim. He’d asked me to homecoming a month ago, back before the whole lipgloss incident.
Back when I was on track to have the perfect senior year.
I opened my phone’s browser and pu
lled up the airline my parents always used. Just in case my mom wasn’t as serious about getting me back where I belonged, it couldn’t hurt to take some precautionary measures.
I smiled as I clicked the dates and then entered the credit card number I knew by heart.
Nothing wrong with having a plan B.
Four
Flynn
I flinched when the teacher called my name. I’d come this close to making it through the day without an incident. Not that this was an incident, necessarily, but being called to stay after class was rarely a good thing.
Not to mention, Mr. Kern’s chem class was my last of the day, and I was supposed to be at Mrs. Messner’s shop in an hour to go over the details of my new job.
Willow was in the same class with me and she shot me a sympathetic wince before heading out.
Chem was my only AP class, and I wasn’t even sure how I’d gotten in. It wasn’t like I busted my butt at school. I wasn’t a total slacker, but I just had more on my plate than studying.
There’d be time for all that later. That was what my mom said, and it was the truth. There’d be a time and a place for school, but this wasn’t it. We had mouths to feed.
I’d heard that phrase often enough that there were days I imagined my little brothers to be more like little birds with their mouths open just waiting for me to come along and regurgitate some worms.
Awesome visual, right?
It was possible I’d watched too many nature docs when I couldn’t sleep. There was nothing more calming than Richard Attenborough’s voice when insomnia kicked in.
“Mr. Masterson,” my chem teacher said when I was the last one left.
The tension inside me ratcheted up another twenty notches at his use of my dad’s name. I wasn’t a fan of the reminder.
He held up a sheet and waved it. “I see you didn’t sign up to do a project for the science fair.”
I stared at him. He was kidding, right? Did I seem like the kind of guy who signed up for science fairs?
His smile was understanding. At least, I assumed he was going for understanding. The kind teacher who cared. I could practically see him reveling in the role. From where I was standing, he just looked patronizing.
“Look, Flynn, I get it. Science fairs aren’t cool.”
The way he stressed cool made me flinch. It made me think of Fonzie and Happy Days and the countless times my mom had made us watch the reruns when I was a kid.
He arched his brows and leaned forward like he was letting me in on a secret. “But these fairs are great for college applications. And what’s more, if you place, you’d be eligible for a scholarship.”
Applications. Scholarships. Did he have any idea how crazy he sounded right now?
“Okay. Great.” I took a couple steps backward toward the door. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“The sign-up closes next week,” he called after me.
I was already in the hallway when his voice reached me, shaking my head as I walked down the crowded hallway toward the parking lot.
The crowds moved quickly, and I headed to my locker, ready to shove some books in there before I drove home. I wasn’t sure why I was rushing. Since my mom had flown to New Jersey with my brothers, it was just me at the house. Packing up an entire house alone was depressing, but it kept me busy.
But even so, I wasn’t in a rush to go home to a nearly empty house and a mailbox full of bills. Not to mention the Sold sign out front. All of it screamed ticking time bomb. I wasn’t even sure why I was going through this farce of going to school when I’d be quitting in a few weeks’ time.
I guess because it gave me something to do, right? Plus, it had made my mom happy. It’d be that much easier to get my GED when I left this place. So, win-win, right?
Yeah. Sure.
I took my time at my locker, waiting for the first wave to leave. The parking lot was always a mess right after the bell rang. The hallways were starting to clear when I passed by the new girl’s locker. Isla.
The girl had been in two more of my classes today, and she’d been just as standoffish and snotty in every one. Not just to me. I mean, I couldn’t have cared less that she didn’t want to be pals. But I didn’t miss the way the others stared. At the way they whispered when she refused to smile and make nice.
It was kinda funny to watch. Clearly my fellow seniors had no idea what to make of this girl from the big city.
I’d almost passed her when the sound of her voice hit me like a brick. It wasn’t what she was saying, it was the way she was saying it. She was practically hissing, her voice quiet but desperate. “What do you mean he restricted access? He can’t do that to me.”
She held the phone to her ear with one hand and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other. Her eyes were squeezed shut and...crap.
Was she—
Was she crying?
I looked around in alarm, hoping to spot Callie or Willow. Heck, even Savannah would be a better option than me.
A, she clearly didn’t like me. B, the feeling was mutual. And C, I had absolutely no clue what to do in the face of tears.
I started to walk away, but her sudden and loud inhale made me freeze. I glanced over to see her shaking her head. “No, you said you’d talk to him. You said you’d handle it.”
I looked from the new girl to the door and back again. To walk away or to help?
Ah crap. Who was I fooling? It was like this weekend’s wedding reception all over again. Sure she was hot, and yeah she’d walked these halls like some fearless warrior all day today, but right now, all I could see was somebody vulnerable.
Not terrifying. Not a brat—not at this particular moment, at least. She was just...sad. Upset. And I found myself walking over to her before I could stop to think. She hung up the phone with a sigh just before I reached her. “You okay?”
She tensed at the sound of my voice, but a heartbeat later she was turning to face me, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Were you eavesdropping?”
I gave a laugh of disbelief. “No. I was walking past and you seemed upset, and so—”
“And so...what? You wanted to rub it in?” she snapped.
I flinched at the sharpness in her tone. Even more at the suspicion. “Wow. That was completely uncalled for.”
Her defensive posture eased a bit, but there was still a wariness about her.
I held my hands up and backed up a step. “I was just making sure you were all right, that’s all.”
Her eyes narrowed further. “Do I look like a damsel in distress?”
“No. You look...” I eyed her from her long wavy brown hair to her black flats. She looked gorgeous. But the look in her eyes was still wariness and anger. Like an alley cat backed into a corner, ready to hiss. “You look feral.”
Her brows came down in a scowl that was so fierce it bordered on comical.
There it was again. That urge to laugh. Honestly, I wasn’t much of a joker, and I hadn’t found much to laugh about since my dad left. Stepping up and filling shoes that were never meant to be mine wasn’t exactly a laugh riot. But this girl? She cracked me up.
Unintentionally, of course.
“Okay, well, since you clearly don’t need my help…” I started to walk away.
“I definitely don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.” She was muttering to herself now, and even though she was kind of the most atrocious human I’d ever met, I felt a kick of sympathy at the bitterness in her voice.
Whatever was going on with her, she was in a rough spot.
But—I pushed open the doors to the parking lot and ducked my head as a late afternoon storm dumped rain on me. Then again, so was I.
I had my own problems to worry about, and my family deserved my focus. They needed it.
I told myself that as I headed to the car. I told myself that as I turned on the windshield wipers. I told myself that as I tried my best not to think about the pained expression she’d worn before she’d realized I’d sp
otted her.
I even tried to tell myself that as I pulled out of the parking lot and saw her huddled in on herself. She was walking home. In the rain.
Crap.
I was more annoyed than anyone when I pulled my car over to the side of the road beside her.
She glanced over with that suspicious glare as I rolled down my window. “Get in.”
Her lower lip jutted out, and the term spoiled brat didn’t begin to do this girl justice. She stood there getting drenched for a full thirty seconds before finally reaching for the car door and sliding in.
Her T-shirt and sweater were sticking to her, and her jeans had gone from form-fitting to second skin. Not that I was noticing or anything.
She looked just as put out to be in my car as I was to have to give her a ride. “Where to?” I asked.
She pointed to the cross street ahead of us. “Make a left.”
Silence fell thick and heavy in the car as I cranked up the heat so she wouldn’t get a chill.
“It’s only a few blocks,” she said. “I could have walked.”
I glanced at her in disbelief. “You’re welcome.”
She pinched her lips shut and stared straight ahead. “I’m just saying, I didn’t need help.”
“Are you always such a brat or is it me?” I turned to look at her.
Man, she was pretty. All lush lips and striking eyes, long lashes and high cheekbones. Even drenched and with wet hair clinging to her skin, she was hot. She was crazy beautiful—and she knew it.
“You didn’t have to stop,” she said.
“Oh. My. Freakin’—” I turned to face her again. “Would it kill you to just say thank you? Or, if that’s too much to ask, how about you just stay silent.”
She pursed her lips and stared at the road. “Make a right at the stop sign.”
More silence. And I was really starting to wish I’d left her to fend for herself in the rain.
She pointed. “This is my aunt’s place.”
I pulled up beside the house and parked the car. The girl was hopeless. She was impossible and annoying and way more trouble than she was worth.
If she would have just gotten out of the car right then and there, I probably would have happily gone on with my day. But no. She sniffled. And I turned just in time to catch it.
No Place Like Homecoming Page 3