The only nice change from the Academy is the short ten-minute drive to Cutler Creek High, whereas the Academy was a half hour away—to say I’m not scared would be a bold-faced lie. I’m terrified. So terrified that my hands are sweating profusely. Then again, it could just be because I’m drenched from head to toe and water is still running down my arms.
“Lovely” by Billie Eilish attempts to drown out the thoughts that are stampeding through my mind. Will everyone know what happened? Will they believe the rumors? Is this really a ‘fresh start’ when it’s still so close to home?
I take a drink of my mean green breakfast smoothie and try to calm the rumble of hunger in my stomach.
Even if people do know, and I am judged, at least I’ve always had thick skin. I can handle the insults, threats, and snide remarks. What I can’t handle is the lies. If people want the truth, I’ll gladly give it to them, but whether or not they believe it is on them. Most don’t. Only a couple people from my old life have stood by my side, and by a couple, I mean my parents and my best friend, Amanda. Friends: Gone. Classmates: Adios. It hurts, but this will not be my downfall. I’m stronger than this mistake.
Pulling up to the high school, my heart jumps into my throat. The place is packed with cars and students, lingering in the parking lot. Driving up and down the rows, I manage to find a parking spot, though it’s a tight squeeze between the two cars.
Maneuvering my Tesla between two cars, I’m watched intently. A group of girls stand in front of an oversized, older style SUV. I don’t even have to question if these are the mean girls. They most definitely are. The tall blonde wearing a crop top with her boobs busting out and a skin tight mini skirt curls her lip up in a scowl. Her eyes zero in on me as I back up, pull forward, back up again, and finally make it in. I breathe a sigh of relief and draw in a deep breath before grabbing my backpack and getting out.
Ready or not.
My door isn’t even closed before their antics begin. “I think you’re in the wrong spot, Sunshine. East Pointe Academy is that way,” mean girl #1 says. I look over and see her pointing in the complete opposite direction of EPA.
Scrunching my nose, I correct her. “Actually, you’re pointing South. East is that way.”
The blonde lets out an airy laugh before flipping her box dyed golden locks over her shoulder. “Oh, she’s a comedian.”
Attempting to ignore them and not be late for my first day, I dip sideways between the pinched-together cars and past the four barbie dolls. Smiling to myself, I call this a win. I’ve been here all of one minute and none of them mentioned my past.
Walking up to the main entrance, I keep my head held high. Even though my name has been dragged through the mud, I’m still the same person that I was before my life imploded. Aside from the uniform at the Academy, I still wear my usual attire of tight jeans and a form-fitting baby tee, my makeup is fresh, and my long caramel-colored curls still bounce. After what I’ve done, some might take a vow of celibacy, dress like a nun, and try to hide in the darkness, but that’s not me. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m also not ashamed—at least not of myself. Jordan, on the other hand, he’s a dick-faced lying cum-wad and I’m not sorry that his life has fallen apart in the same way mine has.
If I’m forced to switch schools over what happened, then it’s only fair he does the same—if he’s even accepted elsewhere.
There’s a cluster of students blocking the doors, so I hold back, thinking they are waiting to get inside. When no one moves and everyone just stands around talking, I dip sideways and slide between bodies to get in.
“Excuse you,” someone huffs. Only this time, it’s not a girl. It’s a guy. Looking behind me, I search for a face to match the voice. When I don’t notice anyone looking at me, I reach for the door handle, but my hand is quickly snatched away. “Do you have special privileges or something? Wait your turn just like everyone else.” That voice again.
This time, I look up and see him. Tall, dark disheveled hair, a jawline so sharp it could cut glass, and the lightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. “I’m sorry,” I say to him as I tuck my fingers under the straps of my backpack, “do I know you?”
“Apparently not, because if you did, you wouldn’t be trying to cut in front of me.”
My eyes dance around the crowd and I’m suddenly aware that everyone is watching us. My voice cracks, and I’m not really sure why. Since when am I intimidated by a gorgeous guy? “I’m just trying to get inside. It’s my first day.”
“Congratulations,” he smirks, “and welcome to hell. But you can wait just like everyone else. Doors don’t open until eight a.m. sharp.” He gives me a wink that sends chills down my spine. “Welcome to public school, Little Blue Jay.”
How’d he know that this is my first day of public school?
Brushing it off, I grip my straps tighter, keep my chin up, and the forced smile, I wear so well, intact. And so it begins.
Thirty seconds later, there’s a click as the doors come unlocked. Everyone pushes through the crowd to try and get in. Holding back, I wait until I’m sure I won’t get tackled to the ground. In the future, I won’t be showing up until after eight o’clock sharp.
Stretching my hand behind my back, I grab my schedule from the mesh pocket of my backpack. I unfold it and search for my locker number. Forty-nine. First class, Advisory with Mr. Pecker. Grinning, I choke down a laugh. This should be interesting.
Everything about this place is different from EPA. The structure, the smell, the lack of order. Following the masses, I assume they’ll lead me to the lockers. With my paper held tightly out in front of me, I look from it to the lockers, counting the numbers, but they’re all in the hundreds.
“Whatcha looking for?” A familiar voice sounds over my shoulder.
Swinging around quickly, I’m face to face with Mr. Line Leader. I wave the paper at the rows of lockers. “Are these the senior lockers?”
He snatches the paper from my hand and takes far too long to find my locker number. Unless he’s checking out my schedule, too. Slapping the paper to my chest, he spins on his heel. “Come with me.”
“But...”
“You’re in the freshman hall. One of the many perks of coming on board two months into the school year.”
Trailing behind him like a puppy, I fold the paper up and hang my arms at my side. “I’d hardly call that a perk.”
“I would. Less assholes. Though, there’s more of a B.O stench in that hall, so it’s sort of bittersweet.”
“And I’m to assume that you’re not one of those assholes?” I’m at his side now as we walk in sync.
He glances over at me, his eyes catching mine, and those chills shimmy down my back again. “Oh, I am. Probably the biggest one of all. It’s probably in your best interest to just stay far away from me.” He flashes me a sly smile that releases butterflies into my stomach.
“Duly noted,” I quip. His words come off as a joke, but I definitely don’t take them that way. The Academy may run things a bit differently, but we still had cliques. The jocks, the jerks, the mean girls, the stoners, and they book smart kids. Then there’s people like me who sort of bounce around from group to group because they have no idea where they fit in.