#GoodGirlBadBoy

by Yesenia Vargas

  “Thanks, guys,” I said. “Keep your phones on you, because I’m sure I’ll be telling you all how bored I am in class every day. And wishing I was at the pool or shopping instead.”

  Rey blinked back at me. “Just don’t make new best friends,” she teased. “What if we get back and you pretend you don’t know us anymore?”

  “Never,” I replied with a smile.

  “Don’t let anyone be a bad influence on you,” Tori said. “Like Isabella. She’s been making friends with this girl at cheer camp who is not nice.”

  “Yeah,” Ella said. “We love nice Harper.”

  Lena laughed. “Although I would be curious to see mean Harper.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Right. You guys know I’m like incapable of being mean.”

  Tori laughed. “That would actually be really weird.”

  “Yeah,” Lena said, already laughing at her own joke. “It’d be like having a nice Tori.”

  Being in school definitely wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my summer. But after screaming and maybe a little crying into my pillow at six-thirty this morning, I knew I had no choice.

  So I stepped off the bright yellow school bus and walked into Westwood High on what was supposed to be the first Monday of summer vacation. Only three other kids followed me off the bus. One guy had spent the entire ride snoring loudly and had to be prodded awake by the bus driver.

  There were only three classes and no textbooks were being assigned so, according to the email I’d gotten, we wouldn’t have lockers.

  I grabbed my schedule in the cafeteria and made my way to the first class of the day. Math.

  Or as it was called here, Applied Remedial Math.

  What did that even mean?

  I had no idea, but by the looks of the syllabus in my email last night, there was going to be everything from geometry to algebra to pre-calc and statistics. And lots of projects.

  Unlike Ella, I wasn’t a math whiz, but I’d gotten a B+ in math back at my old school. So I wasn’t too worried, other than all the work I was going to be doing for the next several weeks.

  I found my first class a few minutes early, so I looked around to see if I recognized anyone. There were only three other students, all girls, in the class at the moment, and they were huddled together talking in one corner. The rest of the desks sat empty, and the teacher, Mr. Nguyen, reclined back in his black faux leather chair with his eyes closed. He looked like he’d rather be home sleeping in too.

  The sound of footsteps made me turn around. It was Ms. Moreau. She made her way to Mr. Nguyen, who sat straight up. He took the sheet from the counselor’s hand.

  “The final roster,” Ms. Moreau said.

  On her way out, she caught my eye and came right over. I gave her a small wave and smile.

  “Harper!” she greeted me. “So good to see you. I’m glad you made it.”

  “Yeah. My mom explained the situation with some of my credits not transferring.”

  Ms. Moreau nodded sympathetically. “I wish there was more I could do, but this happens sometimes with out-of-state transfers. I’m afraid this is the only way for you to graduate on time. But from the looks of your grades this past semester, I’m not worried about you at all, Harper. You seem to apply yourself. However, if you run into any trouble at all, you let me know. I’ll be here all summer.”

  “Thanks,” I nodded. “So no summer getaway, then?”

  She shook her head. “Not this year. But summer school is actually a lot of fun. You’ll see.”

  She gave me a wink and was off.

  A few more students strolled in and found seats in the back of the class. I sat in the third row, but I may as well have been in the front row. Everyone was in the back. And it obviously wasn’t going to be a big class to begin with.

  Just when I wondered if I should go back a row or two and attempt to find a friendly face, Mr. Nguyen stood up and started the class. I turned my attention to the syllabus in front of me so I could follow along.

  Halfway through the teacher explaining the project due in a couple of weeks, the sound of someone opening the door made us all turn.

  I blinked several times, not believing who had just come in.

  None other than Emerson Lopez.

  He carried a skateboard in his hand and nothing else.

  Several of the girls in the back started whispering, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He found a seat three desks over and one desk back from me, setting his skateboard under his seat.

  I turned back to the teacher, wondering if he was going to keep going.

  Mr. Nguyen put his hands on his hips. “Glad to see you could make it, Mr. Lopez.”

  I glanced back at Emerson, who coolly gave a nod, hardly looking up.

  Mr. Nguyen walked down the aisle and lay a copy of the syllabus in front of Emerson. Then he kept teaching.

  I tried to listen, but my eyes kept wandering back to Emerson. Like most of the class, his gaze was anywhere but on the syllabus. Instead, his focus was on the window closest to him. Glancing out the window myself, I could see the blue sky, dotted with clouds, and the front of the school.

  I wondered what Emerson was thinking about. It certainly wasn’t math.

  My eyes slid down his strong arms and the way his thin white t-shirt hugged his torso. From here, I could see the vein that traveled down his bicep. His mouth was set in a line, turned slightly down. His eyes were dark, but it wasn’t just because they were brown, almost black. Whatever lay behind them was dark. Emerson’s wavy black hair fell across his eyes, like a natural barrier to what he was thinking.

  I sighed, just wondering and taking him all in.

  As if feeling my eyes on him, he turned in my direction, and I quickly cleared my throat and pretended to read the syllabus.

  He hadn’t noticed me ogling him again, had he?

  I really, really hoped not, because it had been bad enough that he’d caught me doing that the other day.

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, silently.

  Staying away from Emerson was going to be a lot harder now that we had summer school together. What if he was in the rest of my classes?

  No, it had be just math.

  Five

  Of course, it wasn’t just math. He was in my social studies class too. But at least I made it through my second period without ogling Emerson too much.

  At lunchtime, the cafeteria served as another stark reminder of how alone I felt without my best friends.

  There were only about fifty kids in summer school, and several of them had taken off to find something better than the mystery meat and chocolate milk handed out by the lunch ladies.

  The good thing was that we had a forty-five-minute lunch, way longer than the usual twenty minutes we got during the school year. The bad thing was that I hardly knew anybody in the cafeteria.

  I scanned the mostly empty tables, hoping to find somebody—anybody—to sit with on the first day of summer school. It felt like my first day at Westwood High all over again. Even though the lunchroom had been packed then, it had been impossible to find a single friendly face in the sea of high school students.

  Even after offering a wide smile to a group of girls, I had been rejected. “Sorry, this seat’s already saved for someone else,” had been the excuse.

  Apparently, girls did that all across the United States, because I had definitely heard it back in Wisconsin.

  I spotted a group of three girls I recognized from my math and social studies classes. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over, tray in hand.

  The table was certainly big enough. I just hoped they’d let me sit with them.

  Was there anything more humiliating than sitting by yourself in high school?

  Probably not.

  “Hey,” I said with a smile, praying my voice didn’t betray how nervous I was. “Can I sit with you guys?”

  One of the girls, who donned short jet black hair, shrugged, but another one with long curly brown hair
smiled back and said, “Sure.”

  I circled around and found an empty seat. “Thanks.”

  The hardest part of summer school was now over. “I’m Harper, by the way,” I said, giving them a small wave. “I think we have the same classes.”

  Curly brown hair nodded. “That’s right. I think you were in my science class last semester too. You’re really smart, actually. Why are you stuck here with us?”

  The rest of the girls waited for an answer, and I tried not to stutter. “Oh, um, I just moved here a few months ago, and it turns out that some of my credits didn’t transfer, so…”

  Curly brown hair frowned. “Oh, that stinks. It’s bad enough flunking a class. But passing and having to do it again anyway?”

  Her friend, the one who had shrugged earlier, nodded. “Yeah, I would tell the principal exactly what he could do with my missing credits.”

  Curly brown hair turned back to me. “I’m Anna.” She pointed to her friend. “This is Rachel. And that’s Becca.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, finally relaxing a little.

  Anna sat up. “We were just talking about how hard it’s going to be to pass math and social studies with Emerson in there. I could not stop staring at him the entire time.” Everyone murmured in agreement, and Anna turned to me for a response. Her full lips curled into a smile as she waited for my reaction.

  “Yeah, yeah, he is…very cute,” I said.

  “Cute?” Rachel said. “My little brother is cute. Emerson is…stupid hot. Like too much.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, he really is,” I said, mostly to myself.

  He was nowhere to be found now, which didn’t surprise me at all. As soon as the bell had rung, signaling the end of social studies, he’d grabbed his skateboard and been the first one out the door.

  “Did you guys see he didn’t even bring a pencil?” Becca said. “Mr. Nguyen looked like he was going to blow an artery or something.”

  I laughed along with them, even if I couldn’t fathom the possibility of not showing up for school fully prepared. I got anxiety if I didn’t have extra school supplies in my backpack.

  Anna took a swig of her milk. “I give him a week before he quits altogether. Last year, he only showed up for the first two weeks. He’s really behind. I heard Ms. Moreau say that if he doesn’t finish summer school and pass, he won’t graduate.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said, the brooding image of Emerson from this morning coming to the forefront of my mind. Then I thought about what Tori said, about juvie being next for him if he didn’t get his act together.

  Rachel shrugged. “Not a surprise when it comes to the Lopez brothers. I don’t think one of them has graduated high school.”

  Anna picked up her slice of pizza. “He’ll probably be in juvie by the end of summer. His whole family is trouble.”

  So the thing about juvie wasn’t a secret.

  Then I asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “I live down the street from them. Their dad is always in and out of jail. If you ask me, those three are going down the same path. I’m surprised Emerson hasn’t been sent to juvie already. He never shows up to school. And when he does, he’s getting into trouble.”

  Becca spoke up. “It’s too bad. Such a waste.”

  Anna agreed. “Yeah. I’ve gone out with my share of bad boys, but even I won’t go near Emerson Lopez.”

  Rachel turned to me. “He hardly talks to anyone, much less girls. He’s a loner. Better to stay away from him.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ve only lived here a few months, but it definitely seems like he’s the one person to stay away from. But that’s okay. I mean, he’s not even my type, you know?” I tried to laugh, but it sounded kind of weird, like a scoff more than a laugh.

  “You’re definitely not his type,” Anna said. “Believe me. He’s not into good girls.”

  Rachel nodded. “I could feel your good girl vibes from like a mile away.”

  Becca took one of my fries. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  The bell rang, and we got up. I followed after Anna and the others, their words still reeling through my mind.

  They were right, of course. Just like Ella, Tori, and the others said. It was best to stay away from Emerson, no matter how cute I thought he was. Or how I simply couldn’t tear my eyes away from him or stop thinking about his perfect hair, deep eyes, or abdominal muscles.

  I blinked several times.

  No.

  There were three good reasons it would never work. I just had to remind myself of them every time I imagined what it would be like to kiss him, run my fingers through his perfect hair.

  1. He was a rule-breaker, and I was a rule-follower.

  2. He didn’t do relationships.

  3. Bad boys were the reason it was just me and my mom.

  My mom had fallen for my bad boy dad back when they were teenagers. She’d never been able to get past him, not until well after I was born. And he had never stepped up, not as a partner or as a father.

  All he’d done was break both of our hearts.

  I took a deep breath. No way could I ever be interested in Emerson. I wouldn’t make the same mistake as my mom.

  No matter what it took, I’d make sure to stay far, far away from Emerson.

  After lunch, I checked my schedule on our way out of the cafeteria.

  “General Elective?” I asked Anna in the hallway. “What does that mean?”

  She glanced at my schedule then showed me hers. “No idea. Mine says Physical Education. So I’m headed to the gym.”

  Rachel stepped toward her. “Me too.”

  Becca held up her schedule. “I lucked out. I won’t be running like you two. I got Childhood Education, which means I basically have inside recess the whole afternoon.”

  Anna placed her hand on her hip. “At least in P.E. we can walk. Chasing little kids around all day who pick their noses and can’t remember to go potty?”

  “No, thanks,” Rachel answered for her.

  Anna winked. “Plus P.E. is like an easy A.”

  Becca smiled. “So is Childhood Ed. See ya.”

  I waved and turned to Anna and Rachel. “I’ll see you guys later. I need to figure out where I’m supposed to go.”

  Anna gave me a wave. “Hopefully you get P.E. with us. There are tons of cute boys in there. We watch them play football.”

  And with that, she, Rachel, and Becca were off. It had been nice of them to let me sit with them at lunch today, but I was back to being on my own. It might not be the worst thing. They definitely weren’t like my friends. Anna, Rachel, and Becca were rougher around the edges. Maybe I could bring a book tomorrow and read outside during lunch.

  I found my way to Ms. Moreau’s office and knocked.

  She opened the door, a bright smile on her face. “Harper! What a nice surprise,” she said, showing me in.

  I took a seat in front of her desk, and she settled into her chair.

  “What can I do for you, sweetie? Everything going okay so far?”

  “It is,” I said. “But I was wondering if there was some kind of mistake with my schedule.” I leaned forward and let her take it. “It says third period general elective, but it doesn’t have a room number or anything.”

  “Oh my, you’re right. This is a mistake,” she said. “Somehow, I missed signing you up for an elective. Let me take care of this now, and you can be on your way.”

  She tapped away at her keyboard for a few minutes. “Hm. Let me see what’s still available.”

  I stifled a yawn and hoped I’d get something like Home Economics where I could bake cookies all day and learn the difference between a salad fork and a steak fork. That had been my favorite class back in Wisconsin. Definitely not P.E. I did not do well with P.E. And it didn’t help that I had a knack for falling, especially when everyone was looking.

  Like during the mile. I had almost finished in last place and then tripped at the finish line in front of the whole class
. Just another good reason I had moved several states away.

  Ms. Moreau cleared her throat. “Okay, it looks Physical Education is out of room. And so is Childcare 101. Down at the daycare, right next door. It’s a shame. I’m sure you’d be great with kids.”

  I bit my lip. “Yeah, that’s too bad. That sounds like fun.”

  Ms. Moreau clicked something else. “Okay, it looks like the only elective we still have available is a volunteer-based class. Kind of like Childhood Education. Except it’s at the nursing home across the street. How does that sound?”

  My mind immediately pictured a sunny nursing home full of kind and charming senior citizens. “That sounds great,” I exclaimed. “I love old people.”

  Ms. Moreau clapped. “Perfect!” Her printer spit out a new schedule. “Here you go. You’re a few minutes late, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. The manager, Mrs. Porter, is very nice. She’ll fill you in on everything you need to know.”

  Six

  Apparently, not everyone loved old people as much as I did, because there was only one other student taking this elective.

  And of course, it was Emerson Lopez.

  When I walked in and saw him sitting in Mrs. Porter’s office, I almost choked on my water.

  The nurse who’d greeted me at the door led me there, and I took a seat next to Emerson, decidedly keeping my gaze anywhere but on him.

  A woman who looked about my mom’s age, but with a dressy blouse on instead of scrubs, sat behind the desk. She looked at Emerson first. “So, you’re Emerson,” she said, shuffling some papers.

  He exhaled. “Yep.”

  Mrs. Porter turned to me next. “Which means you must be Harper. Ms. Moreau just called to tell me you’d be joining us. We’re very excited to have you both.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. I’m excited as well.”

  Emerson caught my eye, and I chanced a glance at him.

  He wasn’t smiling at all. In fact, he looked annoyed to be sitting there, like he’d much rather be anywhere else.

  Meanwhile, I tried to comprehend what the universe was doing. Every time I tried to stay away from Emerson, he ended up in my life even more.