by Amy Sparling
Jett gets three glazed donuts and I get a blueberry muffin and an orange juice.
“So I usually sit over here,” Jett says, leading me across the cafeteria, which is filled with the normal long lines of tables. We stop at the back wall which has a bar that stretches from one end of the room to the other. Attached barstools mark each place to sit and the view is kind of cool because it looks out a long window, giving a view of the parking lot outside.
“Is this the cool people bar?” I say, giving Jett a playful smile while we take a seat in the middle of the long seating area.
“It is now,” he says, tearing out a huge bite of his first donut.
I peel off the wax paper wrapper from my muffin. “Do you get breakfast every day?”
“Yup,” he says with a nod. “I’m not really a fan of eating first thing in the morning. So by the time I get to school, I’ve had more time to get hungry.”
I smile. “I learn something new about you every day.”
He leans over and grins back. I want to kiss off the tiny crystals of sugar on his lips.
D’andre approaches and drops down into the seat next to Jett. “Oh no. Look at these two knockouts—already starting drama up in here.”
“Who, us?” I ask. I feel all of the blood drain from my face. Here we go. My nightmare senior year is starting.
D’andre smiles and waves his hand like it’s no big deal. “I’m just messing with you. I heard a few girls asking who the new girl was.”
I lift an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly the whole story,” I say, desperate to know more. “Who was talking about me?”
Carefully, I glance behind us, expecting to see a sea of eyes staring at me, but everyone seems to be minding their own business.
“I’m just playing, Keanna.” D’andre sips from his hot chocolate and I’m worried that he’s not playing with me. But I shut up about it. No sense in begging him to tell me something he clearly doesn’t want to.
Breakfast is over before we know it and Jett walks me to first period. I have math, which is probably a good thing to have first thing in the morning since your brain is more alert, but I am so not in the mood right now. It’s remedial math, after all. Plus, it means I have to leave Jett and I won’t see him again for four more hours.
Jett lingers at the doorway of room 204, his hands holding mine and his eyes gazing into mine while the whole world goes on around us.
“I’m way more scared than I thought I would be,” I admit. My shoulders fall. “I don’t know why. This is so stupid. I’ve been to a million schools before so this shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“I wish I could kiss you,” Jett says, squeezing my hands. “But there’s too many teachers around here and I’d get my ass handed to me.” His gaze softens as he peers down at me. “We can’t have the principal calling my parents on day one. They’d be so pissed they’d probably ground me from seeing you.”
My eyes widen. “If you get grounded from seeing me then I’m grounding you as well.”
“I’ll be good,” he says, winking. “See you at lunch?”
I nod and let go of his hands. I wish I could lean in and get a good inhale of his cologne, but he’s right—there’s too many teachers everywhere.
As I walk into first period, it ends up being okay. No one looks at me or says anything and when Mr. Ellis begins his class, he doesn’t even bother asking if there’s any new students this year. I’m able to blend in just like I’d hoped.
Everything is going perfectly. Until the bell rings.
“Hey wait up,” a girl says behind me. I keep walking, assuming she’s not talking to me, but then she grabs my arm. “Hey,” she says, giving me the fakest of all fake smiles. Seriously. She should win an award for this one. There’s even a dimple in her left cheek and a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m Aubrey.”
She’s a little shorter than I am and she has light brown hair cut in a sharp bob, and she wears black framed glasses.
“Keanna,” I say.
We step into the hallway with the crowds of other students. I try to remember which way to second period but Aubrey won’t stop staring at me so I get all tripped up and have to reach for my schedule in my back pocket.
“You’re dating Jett Adams, right?”
“Ah, there it is.”
Shit, did I say that out loud?
Aubrey blinks. “Excuse me?”
It’s funny how quickly I can revert back to my old self. The Keanna who didn’t give a shit about anyone and who definitely didn’t let fake ass bitches like this push her around.
“You heard me,” I say. One glance at my schedule tells me I need to find room 450. “If you’re going to introduce yourself to be nice, that’s great, but I don’t need another wannabe motocross groupie trying to complain about me dating the man of their dreams.”
Her eyes bug and it feels pretty damn good to put her in her place. “That’s not what I was going to say,” she blurts out.
“Yeah? Because you sure seemed like I hit the nail on the head.” I smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“I was actually going to warn you,” Aubrey says, scurrying on her tiny legs to keep up with me. “You’re dating a total player, Keanna.” She gives me this look of satisfaction like she’s been dying to tell me this since the first bell rang. “He’s going to break your heart, you know.”
Her prissy, know-it-all attitude makes me want to punch her in the face. She cannot know that what she’s saying is pulling at my very own fears of dating Jett. I channel the old Keanna and say, “Not if I break his first.”
Chapter 18
By lunch, I’ve been loaded down with syllabus after syllabus and more first-day-of-school homework than I’ve ever had in my life. So much for taking AP classes thinking they’d be easy.
But the first half of the morning is finally over, so I walk to the corner between the history and science hallways where Keanna and I had agreed to meet. I’m anxious to see her, to smell her green apple shampoo and say something stupid to make her smile.
It’s like I’m an entirely different person this year compared to last year. Last year all I cared about was turning sixteen, getting a truck, and dating girls. Now the only thing on my mind is Keanna, and to a lesser extent, motocross.
I have a girl I love and the best sport ever in my back yard. Could I be any luckier?
My chest warms as I grin and I don’t even care if people are watching me with funny looks on their faces. I wait a minute and finally see Keanna’s soft brown hair on top her adorable head. It’s all I see, since the crowd of other students are all around, shoved into the hallway like sardines. Everyone is anxious to get to lunch, and I’m probably the most anxious. After all, I have the best girlfriend in the school.
“Hey,” I say, when she walks up to me. Immediately, I know something is wrong. Her expression is solemn, her eyes far away. I slip my hand into hers. “Did something happen?”
She snorts through her nose. “Define something.”
We weave into the crowd and make it to the cafeteria. Keanna doesn’t say anything else and I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn’t want to talk about it. That doesn’t mean she’s off the hook. It just means I’ll wait until we’re somewhere more private to ask her about it.
My friends are already sitting at the bar when we arrive, and D’andre has saved two seats with two of his textbooks. The guy can’t be bothered to use a backpack. Every year he just carries around his stuff.
“Are these for us?” I ask.
He nods while taking a bite of his cheeseburger.
“Where’s Maya?” I look around for her, but all the seats are filled and her spunky, always smiling self isn’t here.
“Cheer practice for the first week of school,” he says. “I think they’re getting ready for the pep rally on Friday.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The fact that I know that means I’m dating a cheerleader.”
Keanna sinks into the chair next to me and stares
blankly out the window in front of us. I put my hand on her back. “Are you hungry?”
She doesn’t answer, unless pressing her lips together for a split second counts as one, so I ask another question. “Want me to get us some food?”
She shrugs. “I’ll get us food,” I say, rubbing my hand on her back before I get up and head to the line.
This is driving me crazy. I know she was nervous about starting school, but she seemed okay earlier today. What could have possibly happened between first period and now?
My mind runs rampant with crazy thoughts while I get into the food line and fill up a tray with various things I think she might like. I get a cheeseburger, two slices of pizza, cheesy fries, and a fruit cup in case she’s not in the mood for junk food.
D’andre is talking to her when I return, and she’s actually talking back, so that might be a good sign.
I set the tray down and her eyes go wide. She looks up at me. “You must be extra hungry today.”
“Half of this is for you,” I say. I lean over for a kiss and for a split second it feels like she might not give it to me. Then she leans forward, presses her lips to mine quickly and then takes a plate with a pizza slice.
“Thanks,” she says, peeling off a pepperoni and eating it.
“Your girl here is having a little trouble from the ghosts in your past,” D’andre says over a mouthful of food.
She talked to him and not me? My blood turns to ice. “What exactly does that mean?”
He shrugs and nods toward Keanna. She peels off a piece of the pizza crust and eats it.
“Oh come on,” I say, trying not to sound as agitated as I feel. “You’ll talk to my best friend but not me?”
She sighs. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just had a hard morning.”
“How?”
Her eyes flit to mine for just a second and then she looks back at her food. “Every single class has had at least one girl berate me for dating you. And I’m like . . . how the hell do you even know about that?” Her hands turn palm up. “How does the whole freaking school know that I’m dating you? It hasn’t even been a whole day. But by the way that they’re talking, you’d think we were caught having sex on the auditorium or something.”
I realize I haven’t been breathing since she started talking, so I gasp for a breath. “Damn,” I say, letting it out slowly. I run a hand across my forehead. “How do people know? It’s not even a big deal! Everyone is dating someone in this school, right? It’s not like dating is some rare insane thing.”
“Calm down, bro.” D’andre nudges me with his elbow. I realize a little too late that I was probably talking way louder than I should have.
Anger has me clenching my fists. “Who talked to you? What’d they say?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not a big deal, Jett. It just seems that every girl in this entire school thinks I shouldn’t date you.”
Okay, I have not dated every girl in this school. I’m not that bad.
“They’re just jealous,” D’andre says. “Trust me. Every girl wants Jett but not every girl gets him. So hold your head up high, girl.”
“Thanks, man.” I nod toward him but I don’t think his comment helped Keanna at all. I put my arm around her back and lean in close, pretending it’s only us two in the cafeteria. “You’re just something new to look at,” I tell her. “They’ll get over it in a day or two.”
“I hope you’re right,” she says, leaning into my chest as I hold her close. “If not, I’ll be looking into homeschooling and GED classes.”
I grin. “If I’m not right, I’ll look into those myself.”
*
Keanna is a lot better by the time lunch is over and we hang out in a bay window alcove, hands wrapped around each other, kissing and talking until the two-minute warning bell rings for fifth period.
“Only three more classes,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers.
“Thank God,” she mumbles, but she gives me a smile that lets me know she’s okay. For now. “I’ll see you after school?”
“Yep.” I tap her on the nose with my finger and her face scrunches up. Now would also be the perfect time to tell her I love her. But I chicken out and head to History class instead.
My teacher, Mrs. Perrone, is the same History teacher I had last year. She teaches mostly AP classes and I like her a lot because she prefers to give animated lectures instead of classwork. You only write one paper per year for her class and she gives just a few tests that are all open book.
I slide into a desk in the back and a long wave of blond hair sits next to me. The hair flips over her shoulder and Ashley Lubbock flashes me her extra white teeth. “Hey there.”
“Hi, Ashley.”
I pull out my binder and pretend to be searching for something. Mrs. Perrone passes out the syllabus and introduces herself, giving a long winded story about each of her four Chihuahuas at home.
“Alright guys, now it’s time for your own introductions. Partner up with the person sitting next to you. For the next text minutes, you’ll learn about your desk mate and then introduce them to the class. You’ll each be speaking for a minimum of three minutes.”
Ashley exhales and turns toward me. “I was hoping she’d do that. I’m Ashley, but you already know that, right? I mean, of course you do.”
“Yeah, I’m Jett.” I ready my pen over my paper. “So tell me enough things about yourself so I can talk for three minutes.”
She laughs and puts a hand over her chest. She leans over and wraps her arm around my elbow, leaning in just the way that makes her low cut tank top show everything she’s got under there. “Jett, you’re so cute,” she says, running her hand through my hair.
I jerk backward and she frowns. “Ugh, please,” she says, waving a hand at me. “Don’t act like you don’t want the attention.” Her eyes flash conspiratorially. “We both know you love it.”
“Are you hitting on me?” I have to whisper it even though everyone in class is talking to their partner. I can’t believe what’s actually happening right now, especially after Keanna and I decided that the entire school knows about my girlfriend by now. Surely she does, too.
Ashley rolls her eyes and does the hair flip thing again. “Okay, you’re acting like you don’t remember what happened between us,” she says, even quieter.
I lift an eyebrow. “Nothing has happened between us.”
“The end of school party last year,” she says, watching me for any sign of recognition. She runs a ringer down my arm. “Remember now?”
I look up, trying to remember what she’s talking about. A bunch of football guys threw a party at one of their houses last year. I remember going with D’andre . . . and I remember getting super wasted. That’s it.
“Look, whatever you think happened between us, that won’t happen again. I have a girlfriend and I’m committed to her.”
Her face hardens for a second and then she shakes her head. “Look. I know I gave you the best blow job ever, and you were dying for more.” Her eyes bore into mine and she lowers her voice to barely a whisper. “So if you’d like more fun times with me, I’ll keep it quiet, okay?” She winks and leans so close to me that her boobs touch my arm. “I’ve had even more practice since then.”
God. Did that really happen between us? Was I even sober enough to let that happen? I was single at the end of school last year, just dealing with the on-again off-again crap with Emma Clarke. I guess it’s possible . . . but . . . ugh.
Damn. I kind of hate myself right now. “Thanks, but no thanks,” I say, turning to focus on my paper. “Tell me generic things about yourself so we can do this stupid assignment.”
“Okay here’s one,” she says, pointing to her finger. “I have a cat named Missy. And two,” she points to the next finger. “I give really great head.”
I palm my forehead. This is going to be a really, really long year. And sheltering Keanna from all of this insanity might end up being the death of me.
> Chapter 19
Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I’m not sure who came up with this saying but it really doesn’t make sense, at least not on a reasonable level. But one would think that whoever said this originally, whoever believed it enough to make it into a saying that’s universally known, must have felt there was truth to it. So I repeat it to myself every single day in class.
In three days, Aubrey has gone from giving me condescending glares to being a straight up vocal bitch. Every time she gets a few seconds near me, she’ll say something about me and Jett.
Are you still dating him? Wow.
I wonder how many girls he’s slept with in the last week.
Have you been tested for STDs? God, you must have a ton.
I ignore it. Doing nothing about her bitchy comments is the right move—I know, but it’s killing me inside. All I want to do is grab her short brown hair and yank it backward, kick her in the back of the knees and watch her tumble to the ground, begging for mercy. Yeah, I get a little graphic in my daydreams.
By Friday, Mr. Ellis has us doing math worksheets to see where we are in math skills. When we finish a worksheet, we take it to the back table to turn in and then grab another sheet from a stack of five different assignments. I’m turning in my third worksheet when Aubrey approaches the back table. We’re the only two students here, and Mr. Ellis is playing music over the speakers so no one can hear her.
“Let me guess,” she hisses. “You have Jett’s parents locked in a basement?”
“Excuse you?” I say.
She makes one of her fake smiles. “Well I’m trying to figure out what kind of horrible thing you’ve done to make him pretend to like you. Obviously it has to be bad. I mean look at you, you look like straight up white trash wearing designer clothes.”
The worksheet crumples in my grip. I glance back to make sure our teacher is still focused on his computer with his back to us. “Let me take a guess, here, Aubrey.” I lean in until her eyes are the only thing I see. “You’ve lusted after my boyfriend for months, probably even years, and he didn’t want you because you’re ugly and vapid and now you’re pissed because he’s taken and you can’t harass him anymore?”