by Jordan Ford
I’m desperately trying to ignore the way my heart took off when I worked out that Mack is the guy who caught me with his intense brown gaze…or maybe it was the broad set of his shoulders and the way he carries himself with such confidence. Or it could be the way his face looks like it’s been chiseled out of marble and sanded to perfection. Or maybe it’s his height.
Nope. It’s the eyes. Those chocolate brown goodies.
Gripping my bag strap, I follow my host brother to the right, refusing to glance over my shoulder to check to see where Mack is. I can almost feel his gaze on me, and like hell I’m giving myself away.
Hunching my shoulders, I pick up my pace and start praying he’s not in any of my classes today.
Anderson was spot-on with his whole quarterback-dates-cheerleader theory.
We may not have cheerleaders at my school, and we definitely don’t have football. But we do have a super-hot rugby team and they go for the netball girls. I swallow down the bile lurching up my throat, trying to forget the fact that I used to be one of those girls, flaunting my perfect high ponytail and ultra-short netball uniform, with enough attitude to sink the Titanic.
#3:
The Lowdown
Mack
As per usual, the cafeteria is crammed with human traffic, tasteless food, and the ever-present buzz of anticipation. What’s gonna go down today? Will there be any drama?
I’m usually immune to most of that crap. Our table is a little insular, I’ll admit. People tend to watch us, not the other way around. But today…I’m like a freaking hawk. My eyes rove the noisy space until I find what I’m looking for. She’s tall, she’s lean, and her face makes my heart kick out of rhythm. I scratch the back of my short hair with a frown, wondering why the hell I’m torturing myself. I should be turning the opposite direction and checking out the cheerleaders at my table. Roxy’s been eyeing me up for weeks. We’ve been doing the casual flirting thing, making out at a few parties. I’m not after anything more than a good time though…and I have to admit, she’s pretty sexy entertainment. We’re really good at getting our flirt on when we’re around each other, and she knows I don’t do serious. I’ve always been very open about that.
But that emerald-eyed beauty? She’s doing weird shit to my brain, and serious suddenly sounds enticing, which is so screwed up because I don’t even know her name!
Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to let it go until I do something about it.
She’s sitting with Anderson Foster right now. I could provide today’s drama by heading over there and introducing myself, but I don’t really want the entire school watching when I make my first move.
I glance at my buddies around me. Tyler is playing wink and smirk with Michelle. She’s sitting in between Roxy and my sister, Layla. He’s never told me so, but I think he’s actually got the hots for Roxy. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t done anything about it because of me. He also knows not to go anywhere near my sister, so Michelle is the play of the day. I wonder which cheer girl it will be tomorrow.
Colt and Finn are laughing about something. My eyes glide past them and I notice Tori stand up from the new girl’s table. She’s so short I didn’t see her behind the towering Foster. She says something that makes her face light with a smile before patting her friend Amy on the shoulder and waving goodbye to everyone. With her patchwork satchel over one shoulder—no doubt homemade—and a colorful scarf over the other, she leaves her friends and heads our way.
Large, nutmeg curls bounce around her face as she does this little skip thing and stops by our table.
“Hey.” She grins, resting her arm on Colt’s shoulder.
“Hey, baby.” Colt smiles up at her and she leans down to give him a quick kiss.
I catch Tyler’s grimace out of the corner of my eye. He still doesn’t get why one of the most eligible guys in this school has settled for a girl who’s not part of our crowd.
He’ll figure it out eventually.
I raise my eyebrows with a smile. “‘Sup, Pixie Girl?”
“Nothin’ much. Just swinging by for a little candy before I have to go to class.”
Colt’s face lights with an even bigger grin, if that’s actually possible, and he wraps his arm around her waist, yanking her closer.
“So, uh, who’s the new chick?” I start talking before they can start making out like nobody else exists.
Tori tucks a curl behind her ear and glances over her shoulder.
“The one with Anderson Foster and all the geek club kids,” I help her out.
Tori spins back with a dry glare. “You know they’re not called geek clubs, right? They have actual names, like debate team and student council.”
“Wiseass academy, brainiac brigade,” Tyler mumbles.
“People you’ll be working for one day.” Tori winks and Tyler has to give in with a snicker. He scratches between his eyebrows with his middle finger and Tori tips her head back with a laugh.
Colt sends our friend a silent warning to quit while he’s ahead. When it comes to Tori, he won’t tolerate any bullshit. The guy’s more protective of her than I am of Layla.
“Do you know anything about her?” I lift my chin toward the honor roll table, hoping I look casually curious and not desperate to know.
“Oh, um, yeah, she’s an exchange student from New Zealand.”
“Where is that again?” Tyler asks.
“It’s near Australia,” Colt murmurs. “Rugby, right? They do that warrior dance thing before their games.”
Tori shrugs. “I don’t know, but The Lord of the Rings was filmed there, which is way cool…and not at all geeky.” She points at Tyler before he can say anything.
He just smirks at her. “You’re good, Pixie Girl. Those elf chicks are hot.”
Tori’s face scrunches with distaste while Finn looks behind him as he tries to spot the new girl.
“What’s her name?” I twirl my empty water bottle on the table, forcing myself not to follow Finn’s line of sight.
“Oh, it’s kind of unusual.” Tori’s nose wrinkles. “Ky-ya. Just think hi-ya with a K.”
“Ky-ya.” I test it out with a grin, then notice Colt and Tori smirking at me. I jolt back in my seat and scowl at them. “What?”
Tori grins. “She is gorgeous.”
I flash her a pleading look that I hope everyone else will miss, then settle on an expression that hopefully says, I don’t care.
Tori’s grey eyes sparkle, but she pulls her mouth into line, dipping her head before drip-feeding me a little more info. “She arrived like a day ago, I think, and she’s staying with the Fosters. And that’s pretty much all I know.” Her lips purse to the side as she eyes me up again. My nonchalance is fading as my mind starts ticking over with excuses to stop by the Fosters’ place. They live next door to Roxy Carmichael. Maybe I could somehow…
“She has this really adorable accent, and seems super nice. Maybe you should try talking to her.” Tori’s playful expression makes me fold, and I decide the only way to play this and not come off looking like a total idiot is to claim the shit out of it.
Puffing out my chest, I rise to my full height and give the guys my best smirk. “Believe me, I intend to.”
Colt slaps the table with a laugh. “I’ve seen that look before. Watch out, new girl.”
Tori wriggles her eyebrows with a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Layla and Roxy get up from the table and walk behind me. Pixie Girl dips her head and focuses on the top of Colt’s head as they pass.
Our star playmaker glares at the girls and their demeaning smirks. I’m kind of embarrassed that one of them’s my sister, but I can’t exactly tell her who she can and can’t like. It’s a hard enough job monitoring the guys she has in her life—I don’t have time to worry about the girls.
I think Tori’s cool, but she’s her own island and when it comes to this school, bridges between countries and islands are not built in a hurry.
Tori places her hand on Co
lt’s cheek and turns him away, gazing down at him with a sweet smile and shaking her head.
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers, then presses her lips to his.
The bell rings, a shrill sound that slices through the awkward tension. Colt stands tall, sliding his arm down Tori’s back and holding her close.
“I’ll walk you to class,” he murmurs before kissing her curls. “Catch you guys later.”
They wave goodbye and walk out the other exit. It’s a longer way around, but it saves them having to cross paths with the cheerleaders again. I kind of hate that it’s like that. I don’t like any kind of division in the team, especially before the final, but thankfully most of the guys couldn’t care who Colt dates. And as long as the cheerleaders keep their claws retracted, we should be good.
I slowly collect my bag and drag it up to my shoulder. Ky-ya is walking next to Anderson, listening to him prattle on about something. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s trying to impress her. Okay, so the guy’s not blind…and neither am I.
Looks like I’ve got myself some competition. I internally snicker. Yeah, right!
I study the pair as they head for the exit, not feeling threatened. She looks kind of bored, if you ask me, but then the king of geekdom says something that makes her smile.
The shape of her mouth when she grins is so beautiful—the point of her chin and those straight white teeth.
She looks down as she walks past me, and I can’t help wondering if she’s intentionally trying to avoid eye contact. It only confirms my notion that something happened between us in the gym this morning.
And it only makes me more determined to do something about it.
#4:
The Stares
Kaija
The teacher’s accent makes me smile. He’s talking about the US government and I’m totally lost. I know there’s a president and stuff, but this country is run very different than little ol’ New Zealand. That’s why I wanted to take this class, to learn something totally new. Truth is, though, I’m finding it really hard to focus.
It doesn’t help that every time I look up from my note-taking at least two sets of eyes are glancing—or just outright staring—at me. I smile at a few of them, but it’s getting old pretty fast.
I get it. I’m the new girl with the weird accent. I come from some exotic little country that doesn’t always make it onto world maps—although that’s drastically improving thanks to Peter Jackson and his epic fantasy movies.
A few months ago, it wouldn’t have bothered me. I’m used to being checked out. Hell, if I’m honest, I used to love it. Not to be arrogant, but I’m kind of easy on the eyes—I’m tall, slender, decent chest, nice complexion, good bone structure. I don’t know why, but guys seem to like that combo. And believe me, I used to wear clothes and makeup that would accentuate every one of those features.
The thing is, though, all those gazes of lust or admiration that I’d grown accustomed to? Yeah, they changed. Eyes that used to love me started staring at me with looks of horror and disdain, curiosity and scandal. I guess I deserved it, after what I did, but…
I couldn’t take it.
And so I fled.
Now I’m halfway around the world and I’m still trying to dodge those stares.
Grinding my teeth together, I grip the pen in my fingers and focus back on the teacher and his American accent.
“So, who can tell me why this amendment to the Constitution was so hotly debated? What made it so controversial at the time?”
I glance around the room and see a few hands tentatively rise. Some kid who looks like he could be Anderson’s intellectual clone starts droning on about some policy I’ve never heard of. My brain immediately starts to wander…to that hot-looking quarterback.
Far out, those eyes. That body. The proud little smirk on his face when he was telling everyone they were going to win the division championship. He thinks he’s such hot shit. I’ll go to the grave before admitting how sexy his cocky arrogance is.
I wish I wasn’t attracted to guys like that. They’re no good for me.
I speak from experience, and I will not be going down that path again.
Sensing a new set of eyes on me, I shift my head and meet Roxanne Carmichael’s icy gaze. I turn away with an eye roll. Crap. I was really hoping we wouldn’t be in any of the same classes.
She flounced over to the Fosters’ house yesterday, to introduce herself and to welcome the new girl. I knew exactly what she was doing. Keep your enemies close, right? Popular girls in New Zealand are just the same. Pretty, mysterious new girls are a potential threat to their status. The best way to deal with it is to either bring them into your circle so you can control them or ice them out and make them public enemy number one.
Much to her aggravation—and no doubt mine—I refused to swoon and giggle. I don’t want to be pulled into that social circle again. So, I politely declined and painted a big, red target on my forehead.
I don’t care.
I’m not here to be popular and make friends.
In fact, I’m striving for the opposite.
A brutal memory that has the power to cripple me flashes through my brain and I’m reminded once again why I’m taking the path of most resistance. It’d be so easy to walk into Roxy’s world. I’d be comfortable there.
But…
My nostrils flare as my eyes start to sting.
I won’t go back.
I can’t become that bitchy girl again.
#5:
Mack-Attack
Mack
The day is finally over. This would usually make me feel pretty good, but not today, because I still haven’t spoken to my green-eyed beauty. I scan the hallways for her as I leave calculus, wondering where her locker might be. Probably next to Anderson Foster’s. My lip curls as I hike my bag higher onto my shoulder.
Tyler lifts his chin at me as I glide past. He’s probably wondering why I didn’t stop to flirt with the posse of cheerleaders giggling at one of his jokes. I’m not in the mood. I’ve got more important things to do.
Now, where the hell is Ky-ya’s locker?
I turn the corner to subtly check out the hallway opposite my physics class when I catch sight of Samantha Carmichael. Skater girl might give me the goods. She lives right next door to the stunning exchange student.
“Hey, Sammy.” I make a clicking noise to get her attention.
She stops short and spins to give me a droll glare. Her long straight hair wafts around her face as she approaches me, her beloved skateboard tucked against her hip. She’s a bit of an enigma, this one. She’s got this mysterious quality about her, with one of those refined, angular faces. She looks like a warrior elf, and I can picture her kicking serious ass. I’m pretty sure she scares the shit out of most girls, but all the guys like her because she’s….well, she’s practically one of us.
The junior stops in front of me and crosses her arms. “I’m not a horse, Mack-Attack. You don’t have to go clicking at me.”
I grin. “I was just wondering if you could help me out.”
“Oh, really?” Her keen blue eyes strip me bare while a smirk tugs at her wide mouth.
I roll my eyes, then check the crowd shifting past us before asking, “I was just wondering if you’ve met the new kid yet.”
“You mean the incredibly hot girl who’s moved in next door? Yeah, she’s really not my type.”
My mouth pops opens before I can stop it. I didn’t know Sammy swung that way. I mean, I’m not entirely surprised—
Her face hardens and her fist shoots into my arm before I even see it coming.
“Oof!”
“I’m not into girls, you douchebag. I mean she’s not a skater chick.”
“Got it.” I rub my arm while fighting a chuckle.
Her dry glare helps douse my humor. I’m trying to get the goods and I won’t get shit if Sammy decides she doesn’t want to play. She starts t
o angle away from me so I blurt out, “Sorry. I just…” I clear my throat, scratching the back of my neck and trying not to smile. “What about Roxy?”
Sammy’s head tips to the side, her long straight locks falling over her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s funny. I thought they’d hit it off, but Kiwi Girl’s given our little Roxette the brush off.”
“Kiwi?”
“It means a New Zealander. Get with the lingo, dude.”
I grin, then rub my mouth, loving the nickname—Kiwi Girl.
“I guess it goes to show that extreme beauty doesn’t automatically make someone a bitch. I kinda like that.” She shrugs, obviously thinking about her sister. They are complete opposites in every way (except their eye color)…and I’m pretty sure they hate each other. It’s kind of sad, but I get it. I can’t stand my stepbrother. Yeah, we’re not blood, but we’re still supposed to act like family and that’s damn difficult when the guy you’re meant to call brother is a complete asshole.
“Catch you later, Romeo. Good luck wooing the newbie. If you ask me, she’s going to be a tough nut to crack. You sure you got the balls to handle it?”
I grab my crotch and give her my best smirk. She sees right through it and starts laughing, shaking her head as she drops her board to the ground.
“Her locker’s down the next hallway. May the force be with you.”
She jumps on her board and kicks off, weaving around the students like a pro. She makes it all the way to the end of the hall before being yelled at by a teacher.
“Miss Carmichael!”
You hear that a lot in this place.
A pair of girls with flirty smiles passes me. I grin at them, listening to their tittering as I saunter away. It’s a nice confidence booster. I turn the corner in search of the only girl who’s ever sparked something stronger than mild interest. It’s bizarre, considering I haven’t even spoken to her yet. I must be all kinds of crazy.
I spot her halfway down the hall, her face scrunched with concentration as she gazes into her locker. My heart starts buzzing, sending volts of heady pleasure zipping down to my toes. This is insane!