by Amber Garza
The nearer I get to the school, the more my stomach flutters. Oakhollow High appears huge compared to Hamilton. It’s not that I’ve never seen the high school. Driving through town, I’ve passed it thousands of times. But this is the first time I’m really looking at it.
When I pull into the parking lot, my phone buzzes on the seat. Archer’s name lights up the screen. After guiding my car into an empty space, I pick up my phone and read the text.
Archer: I’m here. Parked near the library.
Me: Okay. I’ll find you.
Exiting the car, I scour the lot. Students are everywhere, talking and laughing, messing around. There are even a few couples making out against their cars. I blow out a breath. You’d never see this at Hamilton. There were strict rules about PDA.
After finding the library, I catch a glimpse of Archer leaning against a blue minivan. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, similar to what he had on at the concert. His hair is tousled as if he didn’t take the time to fix it this morning. It’s the kind of thing that would irk my sister, but I like it.
When he spots me, a smile spreads across his face, and all my doubts vanish. Grinning back, I head in his direction. My nerves gradually calm with each step. By the time I reach him, I’m not nervous at all. Excited is more like it.
By the look on his face, he seems excited, too. At least I hope so.
“Hey.” He pushes off the van and takes a few steps toward me.
We’re so close I can smell traces of soap and mint toothpaste. “Hey,” I respond. Way to be original, Kass.
“You made it.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.
I laugh without meaning to. “Well, I didn’t really have a choice. It is the first day of school, and I do go here now…” The words trail off as I realize I’m being rude.
His cheeks redden. “Yeah, I guess that was a stupid thing to say. I just meant that you made it early…to meet me…” Shaking his head, he says, “Man, I’m usually so smooth.”
My head spins. I’m not the type of girl that makes guys nervous. Sophie and Kate make guys nervous. I make them comfortable. It’s why I get friend-zoned so early on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve liked a guy, thinking they liked me, only to find out later that they had a crush on Kate or one of my other friends, and they were using me to get close to them because I was the approachable one.
“Hopefully you’re smoother than this when you spit,” I joke, remembering last night’s text. My pulse skitters beneath my flesh. I’m not usually flirty.
“Oh. Right.” He laughs, running a hand through his hair.
“You’re not chickening out, are you?” Raising an eyebrow, I cross my arms over my chest. What has gotten into me?
“Never. I just need a minute to prepare.” He rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck from side to side as if preparing for a race. “Okay. Okay. I think I got it.” Bouncing his head up and down, he starts. “Uh uh, yo. First day of school, chilling with Kassidy. If I was allergic to hot girls, then I would sneeze. My name is Archer, my rhymes are fire. We can go on a date, if you so desire.”
My face flames. Is he serious? His teasing smile makes it impossible to tell.
“Archer!” A girl’s squeal interrupts us before I can say anything in response to the rap. Archer’s head bobs up, a groan escaping through his frowning lips.
Curious, I turn to look. The girl running in our direction is gorgeous—blond hair, blue eyes, curvy. She almost looks like a model in her designer jeans, strappy sandals, and tight shirt. Not the kind of girl to elicit a groan and frown. Confused, I purse my lips.
“Hi, Archer,” she says breathlessly once she reaches us. Her gaze flickers over to me momentarily, but then she glances away as if I’m insignificant. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.
“Hey, Tiffany,” Archer responds drily.
“Talk to your brother lately?” Her eyes sparkle.
He nods.
“Has he said anything about me?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh.” Her lips lower. After taking a deep breath, she looks at Archer with renewed purpose. Reaching out, she touches his arm. Flinching, he pulls back. “It would mean a lot to me if you’d put in a good word. I’d be very grateful. If you know what I mean.”
“You’re unbelievable,” he says under his breath.
Her mouth opens into a large O, and her doe eyes make her appear much more innocent than she probably is. “Archer,” she says in a whiny voice.
“If you wanna talk to Ross, do it yourself,” he snarls.
“Fine.” Huffing, Tiffany stalks off.
Swallowing hard, I glance at Archer. His jaw is set, his mouth pressed together.
“Sorry about that,” he says, still staring straight ahead.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I say. “She’s the one who should be.”
His head swings in my direction, a smile inching up his face. I’m glad I can make him smile. It looks good on him.
“Archer.” A guy walks in our direction, a crooked smile on his face.
“Hey, John.” Archer sweeps an arm out toward me. “This is Kassidy. She’s new here.”
John juts out a hand. With an involuntary shudder, I take his hand in mine. “Nice to meet you.”
Germs are stupid. I can’t freak out in front of these guys.
I’m grateful when the handshake is over and I can release his hand. That doesn’t stop him from continuing to stare at me, though.
“So, how do you know this dork?” John asks, indicating Archer.
“We met at the Playlisters concert,” Archer answers for me.
“Ah, I see.” He pins me with a curious stare. “So, you’re a Playlister fan, huh?”
“Nope.” Smiling, I shake my head. “Right now, I’m pretty impressed with Archer’s rapping skills.” My gaze collides with Archer’s, and his face colors.
Archer swaggers forward, his hips so close they almost press to mine. “You liked that, huh?”
Biting my lip, I nod.
John bursts into laughter. “Archer? Rap? Nah, he sucks.”
My stomach drops. I had been hoping we could revisit that last line of the rap. Was he asking me out, or being silly? I’m not really a fan of that type of music, so I can’t be sure how seriously to take it.
Archer whirls around. “What? I got mad rap skills. I’ll battle you right now.”
“Oh, my God! Is that Ross Devlin?” A male voice booms. My insides churn. It must be awful to be constantly mistaken for someone else.
“Shut up, Mac,” Archer answers with a laugh.
“So, you’re not Ross Devlin? Oh, man!” Mac continues. “But I was hoping you could give me your autograph.” Shimmying, he pulls up his shirt. “Right here on my chest.”
My cheeks warm at the sight of this stranger’s chest. Not that it’s that great. It’s pale and a little flabby.
“You wish.” Archer chuckles, shoving at his friend.
“Man, you guys are gross,” John mutters under his breath.
“You’re just jealous I didn’t ask for your autograph,” Mac says. Then his gaze slides over to me. “You must be Kassidy.”
I freeze, surprised that he knows who I am.
“Mac is my best friend,” Archer explains. It’s weird hearing a guy refer to another one as his best friend, and my heart warms.
“So, he didn’t really mistake you for your brother,” I say with a smile. “And he wasn’t really desperate for an autograph.” With a slight giggle, I add, “Well, that’s a relief.”
Mac and Archer grin.
“Nah, I’ve known Ross almost my whole life. I don’t want that clown’s autograph,” Mac responds. “This guy’s autograph will be worth more one day. Mark my words.” He points his thumb in Archer’s direction, and now I see it. The reason they’re best friends. They may joke and tease, but clearly this guy has his back.
“Really?” I raise a brow. “And what will you be famous for?”<
br />
He shrugs. “I won’t be. Mac’s just playing around.”
I know there’s more to it than that, but I let it go. Two girls walk in our direction. One is blond and the other is brunette. They’re wearing T-shirt dresses and sandals, their hair falling in waves down their shoulders. Self-conscious, I bite my lower lip. I’m glad I let Sophie help me this morning.
“Ella!” Archer calls out, motioning to the two girls.
The brunette’s head bounces up, a smile instantly leaping to her face. “Hey, Archer.”
My stomach sours. I know that look. She likes him.
“Ella, Hope,” Archer addresses the two girls when they approach. “This is Kassidy. She’s new here.”
“Nice to meet you.” Ella smiles, but it’s clearly forced. Hope looks on curiously. She’s probably thinking the same thing I am. If he can have either one of them, why would he choose me?
Chapter Eleven
Archer
@archerdev1 First day of school. #goodbyesummer #seniorstatus #nomorefreedom #nomoresleepingin
Mac: Kassidy’s pretty cool.
Me: Told ya.
Mac: Ella was jealous.
Me: Nah.
Mac: You’re oblivious, man. You still into Tiffany?
Me: Nah.
Mac: Heard you talked to her today. What about?
Me: Same old.
Mac: Ross, huh?
Me: Yep.
Mac: Sorry, man.
Me: No biggie. I’m over her.
Mac: Because of Kassidy?
Me: No, I was over her when I realized she was using me to get to Ross.
Mac: She can use me anytime.
Me: Loser.
…
Ross: How is the first day?
Me: Fine. Tiffany asked about you.
Ross: You know I’d never go after Tiffany, bro.
Me: You can.
Ross: No way. She was yours first.
Me: I don’t want her anymore.
Ross: Neither do I. Not after the way she treated you.
Me: There’s a new girl.
Ross: She hot?
Me: Yeah.
Ross: Go for it, man.
Me: Trust me. I’m trying.
Ross: What do you mean?
Me: I sorta asked her out today.
Ross: And?
Me: Nothing.
Ross: Elaborate.
Me: I was spitting bars for her.
Ross: What? Please tell me you’re joking.
Me: Nope. And I added in a line about taking her out.
Ross: You can’t rap, dude.
Me: Yes, I can.
Ross: Trust me. Find a new way to ask her out.
@archerdev1 Fell asleep in econ. Not a good sign for the first day. #goodbyesummer #seniorstatus #notanumbersguy
Chapter Twelve
Kassidy
#6—Make new friends
First period is almost filled up when I enter, trailing Ella. There are only a couple of desks available and, of course, they’re right up front.
“Ella! Over here!” A girl calls out, waving frantically.
She freezes, turning her head toward me. Then with a pained expression she says, “It doesn’t look like there’s an extra seat for you over here.”
“It’s fine,” I say. It’s not like Ella and I will ever be good friends. That’s obvious. Her cold shoulder is dangerously close to turning me into a block of ice.
“You sure?” She hesitates, conflicted.
It would be sweet if I didn’t know it has everything to do with Archer and nothing to do with me. He’d made her promise to watch over me in this class. As kind as it was, I don’t need a babysitter.
“Yep.” I flash her a smile and then head to one of the seats in the front. A few boys in the back eye me with expressions of open curiosity, causing my skin to crawl. Fighting off the shudder that threatens to ripple through my body, I blow out a breath.
I slide into the desk the minute the bell rings. There’s no teacher up front.
“Mr. Williams is always late,” the girl to the left of me says. Her voice is raspy and low. She wears ripped jeans and a black T-shirt, and dark red lipstick. It’s a stark contrast to her pale skin and bright red hair. “There’s all sorts of rumors floating around about why.” She curls her nose in disgust at the word “rumors.” “But the real reason is that he and his wife share a car and he has to drop her off at work first. Sometimes he gets stuck in traffic. He’s explained this to all of his first period classes a million times, but it’s not juicy enough for the rest of the school I guess.”
“You’ve had him for first period before?”
“No. My older sisters have. I’m the youngest of three.”
I nod. “Wow. Two sisters. I only have one, and that’s enough for me.”
She shrugs. “They’re not that bad.”
“I’m Kassidy, by the way.”
“Miranda,” she responds. “Did you just move here or something?”
“No. I went to Hamilton before.”
An amused expression cloaks Miranda’s face. “Private school, huh?”
I nod.
“You get kicked out or what?”
It’s a valid question. Biting my lip, I shake my head. “Just wanted a change, I guess.”
The chatter of the students swell around me. A few of the boys in the back toss out catcalls.
Miranda rolls her eyes. “Don’t pay attention to them. They’re idiots. Most guys at this school are.”
The classroom door flies open, and a man with brown hair, wearing a flannel shirt and khakis, sweeps into the room. “Sorry I’m late, folks. I trust you found plenty to do in my absence.” The smile he flashes is kind and endearing. Already I like him. At Hamilton, the teachers were stuffy and serious, rarely friendly. “James, get your feet off the desk,” Mr. Williams says as he sets his bag down. “Surely you didn’t forget all the rules over summer break.” His mouth curls at the corners as he yanks out a disheveled stack of papers. “Time to go over course expectations.” The entire class groans, and he sticks up his index finger. “Hey, now. The faster we get through this, the faster you can get back to your personal conversations.” With deliberate steps, he makes his way to the first row and starts passing out the papers. “I see I have your attention now. How nice.”
I giggle, and a few students glance over at me, brows furrowed. Slinking down in my seat, I duck my head. Hair tickles my cheek.
I zone out as Mr. Williams goes over the course expectations. It’s not like it’s anything new. It’s English. Read a bunch of books and write essays. Got it. Besides, it appears Hamilton was ahead of Oakhollow High. I’ve already read half the books on this list. I still have the essays and book reports saved on my computer. This year might end up being even easier than I thought.
Someone sneezes from over my shoulder, another sniffles to my left. My body goes rigid, fear prickling along my skin. Taking a deep breath, I stare down at the course expectation sheet. But the words swim on the page. My skin is hot, my pulse thrumming beneath my flesh. All I see are germs. Germs on my desk, germs in the air, germs on the paper I’m holding.
Familiar panic rises inside of me, and I try my hardest to shove it down. I use all the coping mechanisms in my arsenal, starting with breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. When that doesn’t work, I try to force myself to listen to Mr. Williams, but his words are just white noise at this point. I think about something else. Anything else.
Of course, my mind travels to Archer. I knew it would. My body cools, my pulse returning to its normal cadence. Still, I reach into my backpack and yank out my antibacterial lotion. After applying it liberally all over my palms, I rub it in. The sterile scent calms me further.
By the time I toss the antibacterial lotion back into my bag, Mr. Williams has finished going over the expectations. He sits at his desk drinking coffee while all the other students resume talking. Glancing at the clock, I internally count down
how many minutes are left in class.
“What lunch do you have?” Miranda asks.
“A lunch,” I respond.
“Oh. I have B lunch.” She frowns, which surprises me. “But if you go to the quad near the library, that’s where all my friends sit. I can tell a couple of them to look for you. The kids that sit over there are much more welcoming than the popular kids who sit in the cafeteria, trust me.”
“That’s okay. I actually have someone to sit with at lunch.” Does Archer eat in the quad? Or in the cafeteria?
“Who?” She asks curiously.
“Archer.”
Miranda’s eyebrows raise. “You know Archer Devlin?”
“Well, we just met a couple of weeks ago, but yeah. He’s kinda showing me around and stuff.” Why am I rambling?
“Archer’s cool. His brother’s another story.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “But Archer hangs with my group in the quad, so you’ll probably end up meeting my friends anyway.”
“But Ross doesn’t…or didn’t…hang with your group?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I guess sometimes he did. He and Archer are pretty close, I think. Ross’s just always had a big ego…getting famous didn’t help. I bet he’s super annoying now.”
Glancing behind me, I point in Ella’s direction. Her head is bent as she and her friends giggle and chat. “What about Ella? Is she in your group?”
Miranda frowns. “She used to be. Now she thinks she’s popular.”
“But she’s not?” I’m confused.
Shrugging, Miranda says, “I don’t know. Kinda, I guess.”
“Archer tried to get her to be nice to me,” I confess. “You can see how well that worked.”
She snorts. “That doesn’t surprise me. Archer’s a good guy. But, you’re better off without her. Trust me.”
The bell rings, and students burst into a flurry of activity all around me, shoving papers into backpacks, leaping out of desks and hurrying toward the door. A few bump me on the way out.
“Want me to help you find your next class?” Miranda flings her backpack over her shoulders, then tucks her thumbs under the straps.
“Archer’s walking me there.”
Miranda cocks her head to the side. “Sounds like you and Archer are pretty close.”