by Nora Cobb
“Fuck you, Anthony.” Jock-boy flips his middle finger and walks off.
Fuming, but not daring to do anything else, I glare at Jock-boy’s back. “Fleming” is printed across the upper back of his jersey. He turns the corner, and the hallway fills with commotion and voices again.
Anthony picks my heavy bag up off the floor easily with one hand. He’s not a weakling, but he definitely has that lean and long runner’s build. Smiling, he walks over to my locker and waits for me to approach.
“So is Jock-boy like that before he gets his caffeine?” I quip as I take my bag out of his hands.
He laughs, and when he does, he looks even cuter with a wide, welcoming smile. He’s actually sort of hot in a Goth way. His dyed-black hair is to his collar and tucked behind his ears. The contrast makes his green eyes brilliant. I wonder how he gets away with wearing black jeans and leather to school.
“He’s like that all the time.” Anthony shrugs his shoulders. “If I thought caffeine would help, I’d drench myself in it before coming here.”
“What an ass. I mean him, of course.” I stare at him, hoping he gets it.
He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Anthony Lange. Been here since age fourteen.”
“Natalie Page. My first day.”
“Nice to meet you, Natalie, but I’m sorry. I may have fucked things up for you. Jacob is a hard customer.”
“Bit of a sociopath?” I open my locker and toss my purse in but keep my bag.
“Try psychopath. Jacob Fleming makes a group of sociopaths look like a welcoming committee at a summer resort.”
I try to laugh, but it sounds weak because it is. The warning bell chimes and I realize that though I’m in the right building, I don’t know where to go for class. Looking around, I see that the students that were watching are now scurrying away in all directions.
“Do you know where I can find room 302?”
“It’s down the hall,” replies Anthony. “I’ll walk you there.”
I follow beside his long, lean stride, trying to keep up without tripping. Stealing glances, I notice that he is better-looking than average. Anthony is rocking a pair of skinny black jeans with a gray polo under his classic biker jacket. His chest fills out his shirt perfectly. He must feel my eyes on him because he suddenly looks my way with a mischievous grin.
“You want to get lunch together?” he asks.
“Sure.” I shrug as if I’m cool, but I feel a little heat on my cheeks.
“Good,” Anthony smiles and his eyes stay on mine a moment too long. Relax, man, I saved your ass, but that’s it for now.
“This is room 302.” I look up at the door and giggle. Now, I’m the one being weird. “Thanks, I’ll see you at lunch.”
“No. Thank you.” Anthony nods and strides off toward an elevator that I completely missed earlier.
CHAPTER 2
Even though I arrived early at school, the fight in the hallway makes me the last one in calculus. The late bell chimes as I walk into the room, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I had arrived earlier for a seat. Late enrollment means that everyone else has already picked their desk for the year. Forcing myself to keep my chin up, I walk further into the quiet room and scan the desks for an empty one. The only empty desk is in front of Jacob Fleming, who’s sitting in the last row with the other jocks. My body flinches, and I hope that the subtle shake isn’t noticeable. Hesitating, I stand there staring at the desk, hoping that another seat might magically appear.
“Natalie Page?” The teacher tugs my schedule out of my clammy hand. Going to her desk, she checks it against her roster as I move to stand beside her. Maybe she’ll let me sit on the floor by her desk. Her eyes scan the room, and I notice the corners of her lips twitch as her gaze also meets Jacob’s steady glare.
“There’s a seat in front of Mr. Fleming.” She points.
For a moment, I look at her, and I must look like the lamb heading toward the wolf because she gives me a slight push on the shoulder to start me on my way. I maneuver to my new desk, averting my gaze, and sit down daintily with a straight back like I don’t give a shit that he’s there. I’ll travel the high road until someone knocks me off it. As soon as I sit down, Jacob places his feet heavily on the metal rungs of my chair and gives it a slight push.
With a stink eye, I glance back. The slight curl in his sneer dares me to say something. Jacob’s baiting me, but instead of confronting him, my eyes stop on the boy sitting on his right. That guy is gorgeous with light brown hair that dips down into a wave over his hazel eyes. He has the longest lashes I’ve ever seen on any person. I want them. Actually, the cute guy seems friendly. He smiles at me with kissable lips, but not in a nasty way. He also has on a team jersey, but it’s for hockey. I smile back, and Jacob starts jostling his leg under my chair.
The teacher starts speaking before I can tell Jacob what I think of him with a discreet middle finger. I mean who the fuck picks on a senior girl? Really? I guess I have a lot to learn.
“Jake, get a grip, bro,” the cute guy whispers. “Are you trying to flirt? Because you suck at it.”
I feel the weight on my chair ease up, but he doesn’t remove his feet.
“Not with that skank, Lucas,” Jacob whispers.
“Wow, no coffee this morning?” replies Lucas.
I lower my head to hide my laughter, but I glance back at Lucas, and he winks at me.
“Mind your fucking business,” Jacob snarls.
I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but Jacob better be nice to his friend. I can’t imagine him having so many friends that he can afford to lose even one.
“Class, settle down.” The teacher is looking in our direction. I sit up straight, which makes her smile. “My name is Ms. Petrenko, and this is Advanced Calculus for those of you who don’t know.”
I stiffen in my chair and send up a silent prayer that Ms. Petrenko won’t make me stand up and say my name.
Jacob snorts and jostles my chair again with his feet. My chest presses against the hard plastic edge of my desk. I hold my lips together to keep from crying out, but this time, I turn my head around and give that smirking bastard a dirty look. Jacob doesn’t care, and he looks past me to Ms. Petrenko.
After a slight pause, Ms. Petrenko starts explaining the day’s lesson. I’m behind, but thankfully, she’s already written the lesson pages on the board. I reach in my backpack to get out my paper and textbook but suddenly notice that I’m the only one. The tablet on my desk vibrates, and I see information flashing across the screen. I sit there staring at it, dumbstruck. In my old school, we had to write everything down in our own notebooks. If it’s this easy, I wonder where to find the app that can do my missed homework.
“I want to go over the quiz answers before I hand them back,” she continues. “There were some answers that a few of you missed.” For a moment, her gaze passes over Jacob. Ms. Petrenko writes the first problem on the board, and again, it appears on my tablet. She turns and picks a random student in the front row. “Melissa, can you answer this question?”
A girl with glasses nods and starts scribbling it out on her tablet. Her handwriting appears on the glass board on the wall behind the teacher’s desk. I look at my tablet again, amazed at how it links instantly. I wonder if my uncle has anything to do with this technology. While I’m examining my tablet, Jacob starts whispering to Lucas.
“Lucas, you got practice after school?”
“Until the day I graduate, or drop dead on the ice. Still not sure which will happen first yet.”
“You think they’ll jump over your body when it happens? Or use you like a speed bump.”
“Probably both.”
They laugh under their breaths. Jacob jostles my chair again when he laughs. Tensing my body, I hold steady as I follow the lesson on the board. My eyes are front and center, but my ears are straining to hear what they’re saying.
“You gonna tell me about that bruise under your eye?” Lucas’ voice is loaded w
ith concern.
“Nothing. It’s from practice. Got hit hard.”
“But you didn’t have practice on Friday.”
“I can practice at home. I don’t need an ice rink to toss a ball.”
They’re silent, and I wonder if Lucas is going to let the conversation go.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. So chill, man,” hisses Jacob.
There’s a pause, and then Lucas says, “Is your old man in town again?”
Jacob doesn’t respond, and I feel my chair shift as he leans back. Curiosity got the nosy cat killed, but I have to look. Twisting my head ever so slightly, I peek at Lucas. He has his arms folded, and his expression is blank as he watches the board. I like it that he’s showing concern for Jacob even though his friend is a jerk.
“Ms. Page?” My head whips around, and I stare at Ms. Petrenko as if she just materialized in front of the room.
“The lecture is in the front and not in the back.” She smiles so I know it’s just a warning, but I don’t need to piss off another person. “Would you like to answer the next question?”
Why do teachers ask that? What if I played the badass and said no? Do I even have that choice?
I nod and look down at my tablet, but when I stroke the stylus against it, nothing happens. I flip it over to look for a button, but I can’t figure the thing out. The impatience in the classroom is growing. I can hear people breathing, shifting in chairs, and someone is tapping a stylus in boredom. My forehead feels hot, and the sweat will start in a few seconds.
Jacob lets out a snort. “Looks like the new girl still needs a blackboard and chalk.”
I’m about to lash out when someone takes the tablet out of my hands. Lucas leans over me, and with a few keystrokes, he shows me how to go live.
I can smell the faint hint of cologne on his clean-shaven chin. It’s subtle, not like the boys in my old school who seemed to prefer taking a bath in Axe. His shoulder rubs against mine, and I don’t move away. I notice the muscles in his arms, but his hands are graceful as long fingers glide across the screen. My thoughts go there, and I watch his profile, adoring the view.
Lucas hands the tablet back with a wink of those lush lashes. “Thanks,” I croak as he returns to his seat.
“You may want to change that problem to two plus two, so she has a chance of getting it right,” cracks Jacob.
The annoyance of waiting dissolves into laughter at my expense. Let the bitches laugh, because I’m about to kick ass and take names. Math is my domain. I may not own tech like a rich kid, but I know my numbers. My stylus flies across the screen and the class is silent again but for a different reason as they watch me solve the equation in less than a minute.
Ms. Petrenko smiles at the board. “Someone’s been studying over summer vacation. Good work, Natalie.”
I smile thinly, thinking about how I actually spent my summer vacation planning my parents’ funeral. But no one here needs to know about my home life.
“Okay, I have the results from the pop quiz.” Ms. Petrenko holds up papers, and I must look surprised. “Tablets aren’t allowed during tests,” she explains.
She starts to hand back the quizzes, going down the rows. “A grade lower than a five is failing and an indicator of trouble ahead.” With a concerned look, she stops and hands Jacob his quiz. I don’t dare look back, but I hear his fist slam the desk. Ms. Petrenko ignores his outburst as she finishes handing out the rest of the quizzes in silence.
“What did you get?” Lucas whispers to Jacob.
“A fucking three.”
There’s silence again, and Jacob doesn’t bother to ask Lucas about his grade. With a quick side glance, I see Lucas reaching for Jacob’s paper. “If you need my help, I can help you after school,” he mutters.
“That isn’t it. If I fail, I’m on the bench. And my old man …” Jacob doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t need to.
I notice that all the students in our corner of the room are frozen. They’re hardly making a move, as if it would be lethal to attract his attention. I get it now why this seat was empty. The girl in front of me quickly folds her quiz and shoves it into her bag. I check the time on my tablet. Class is almost over, and people are getting ready to bolt.
When the bell chimes, Ms. Petrenko is quick to ask Jacob and me to stay behind. My nerves are showing as I carefully put my tablet into my bag. I pretend like I have other interesting things in there, but I don’t. My bag is almost empty. Lucas gives Jacob a quick but complicated shake of the hand before telling him that he’ll see him later. He doesn’t look back in our direction as he walks out of the room.
Jacob leans forward and whispers, “You like to listen, new girl?”
I do my best to ignore him, but it’s a creepy feeling having my back to him. We might as well be in a dark alley. As the room empties out and Ms. Petrenko is distracted, Jacob shoves my chair hard with his feet. I knew he was going to do something shitty, and if I had been quicker, I would have gotten up sooner. I’m a math genius, but socially, I’m optimistically stupid.
The pain in my chest is sharp, but not lethal. The noise is enough to attract Ms. Petrenko’s attention, and she looks at us, trying to guess what just happened. I’m not staying put at this desk. I get up and sit at a desk in the front.
“Ms. Page, I want to give you the missed assignments. I wrote them down on a Post-it. Did you have a chance to download the textbook?”
I shake my head. I still can’t get over all these perks.
“Do you prefer your hardcover?” she asks.
“I didn’t know we had the choice,” I reply in amazement.
Jacob snorts from the back of the class, and we both eye him. She looks surprised, but I’m glaring at his shit attitude.
“Students have the option,” she continues. “But you’ll have to go to the admin office. They don’t carry textbooks in the campus bookstore.”
I can only blink stupidly. It’s taking most of my brainpower to keep my mouth closed. Campus bookstore? Download the textbook? What kind of place is this?
“Go to West Hall,” she adds. “Do you want me to find someone to show you?”
I leap out of the chair, almost tipping the desk over. “No,” I half shriek, refusing to look back at Jacob. I feel him watching me with his dark eyes, like prey. “I mean, no thank you.”
She smiles warmly, and that’s my cue to move it. I gather up my bag, but before I’m out the door, I hear her say, “Now, Mr. Fleming, you’re always a handful.”
“I only need to stay on the team,” Jacob replies coldly. “We both know that, so how are you going to make it happen?”
CHAPTER 3
Holy labor laws. This is like having a fuckin’ job. It’s barely lunch, and I’ve been put through the wringer. I’m smart, and I know I’m smart, but these kids are like PBS smart. They’re what my old public school teachers would call “well-educated.” Montlake Academy is not a normal high school, not in this universe or in any other. The faculty don’t just expect you to learn. They expect you to think. When I hear the lunch bell chime, I’m grateful for the break.
The bells here aren’t like my old school either. Those old bells rang loud enough to make a dog howl in pain. These bells sound like a lo-fi chime on a phone, but everyone hears it, and if you don’t, you can’t ignore the sudden scurrying of the students. I’m learning quickly that nobody wants to be late.
Phil had all the books for my subjects sent to the house. But now that I know I have a digital option, I decide to try to return the hard copies for some cash. I learned young how to hustle for a dollar, and I know for a fact that textbooks aren’t cheap.
Imagine my surprise when I’m told by Ms. Schneider, the school secretary in the office in West Hall, that the books are not refundable.
She’s older than Phil with short black hair and a tense, but sweet face. “And you don’t return them at the end of the school year,” she continues with a stretched smile
. “Your uncle’s account has already been charged.”
Casually, I poke the counter, avoiding eye contact while I tap her for info. “What else can I buy on his account?”
Ms. Schneider actually smiles, for real. She’s probably relieved that I’m not having a meltdown on the office floor because I didn’t get my way.