1. The New Kid

CHAPTER 1

The New Kid

LIAM

TWENTY YEARS AGO…

M y feet dragged along the sidewalk, the fallen leaves crunching under my sneakers as I made my way to Oakwood High. The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks, carrying the scent of wood smoke from someone's chimney. Just another day in this painfully ordinary town.

The houses I passed were all cut from the same cloth - perfect lawns, white picket fences, and porch swings that creaked in the breeze. It was like stepping into an old sitcom, minus the laugh track.

As I neared the town square, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the ancient oak tree dominating the center. The trunk was massive, sure, but it was just a tree. The town treated it like some sort of sacred monument, which was ridiculous.

Other kids were heading to school too, all of them seeming to know each other. They exchanged quiet greetings and sideways glances. One guy with tousled brown hair caught my eye and smiled. My heart did a little flip, but I quickly looked away. In a town like this, I couldn't afford to let those feelings show.

I overheard snatches of conversation as I passed. "Did you hear about the new family that moved in on Elm Street? I hope they're not too different. You know how people talk."

It was obvious Oakwood had its prejudices. The town seemed stuck in time, clinging desperately to their outdated ideas. Change was not welcome here, and neither was anything - or anyone - that didn't fit their narrow view of "normal."

As the redbrick facade of Oakwood High loomed into view, I sighed. Fitting in here was going to be a challenge. Being the new kid was hard enough, but being different in a town like this? It felt like I was carrying a ticking time bomb.

My heart was pounding like crazy. The school building loomed over me, all brick and windows shining in the sun. It was way bigger than any of the other schools I'd been to.

Kids were everywhere, laughing and hanging out in their little groups like they'd known each other forever. The noise was overwhelming, and my stomach twisted into knots. I gripped my backpack straps so tight my knuckles turned white.

"Here we go again," I muttered under my breath. "Another new school, another fresh start. Yay me."??I was so done with this moving thing. Every time Dad got a new job, we had to pack up and leave. This time, his company transferred him to their Oakwood branch. Mom kept going on about how it was a "great opportunity" and how Oakwood was supposed to be this super quaint, friendly place. But I didn't buy it.

I just wanted to stay put for once, y'know? Make some actual friends I could hang out with for more than a couple months. But nope, the universe had other plans. Story of my freakin' life.

But my feet felt like they were glued to the sidewalk. I scanned the courtyard, watching all the other kids being buddies. Laughing, joking around, making plans. Must be nice.

I wished I had someone to talk to, someone who got what it was like being the perpetual new kid. Starting over from scratch every single time. It sucked.

Looking down at my scuffed sneakers. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe Oakwood would be the place where I finally fit in. Where I could find my people and just breathe for a while.

The warning bell shrieked, making me jump about a foot in the air. I blew out a breath and squared my shoulders. "Showtime."

I followed the herd of students streaming into the building, keeping my head down and praying I wouldn't get lost. The halls were packed, and I felt like a sardine in a can, jostled from all sides.

I managed to find my homeroom without too much trouble. I slumped down in my seat, wishing I could disappear. The teacher's voice droned on, but her words blurred into meaningless noise as my eyes darted around the room. Every face seemed to be turned towards me, their gazes burning into my skin like laser beams. My palms grew clammy, and I could feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead.

The classroom suddenly felt too small, too cramped. The walls seemed to be closing in, and the air grew thick and heavy. I tugged at my collar, trying to breathe normally, but it felt like my lungs were shrinking.

A guy two rows ahead turned to look at me, his eyebrow raised in what I could only interpret as judgment. I quickly averted my gaze, focusing intently on the scratches on my desk. My fingers traced the grooves, desperate for something, anything, to distract me from the suffocating feeling of being watched.

"Alright, class," the teacher's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Let's have our new student introduce himself. Come on up to the front, dear."

My heart plummeted to my stomach. This was my worst nightmare come to life. I glanced up, hoping I'd misheard, but the teacher was smiling expectantly at me, gesturing for me to stand.

With leaden legs, I pushed myself up from my chair. The scrape of metal against linoleum seemed deafening in the quiet classroom. I could feel every eye on me as I shuffled to the front, my gaze fixed firmly on my scuffed sneakers.

Standing before the class, I lifted my eyes, immediately regretting it. A sea of unfamiliar faces stared back at me, some curious, others bored, and a few… hostile? My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.

"I'm… uh… I'm Liam," I managed to croak out. "I just moved here from…"

"Speak up, dude. We can't hear you," a voice called out from the back of the room. Snickers rippled through the class.

I felt my face flush hot with embarrassment. "I'm Liam," I repeated, louder this time, my voice cracking slightly. "I moved here from Colorado."

"Colorado, huh?" The same voice spoke again, and I looked up to see a guy leaning back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. He was good-looking in that effortless way that seemed to come naturally to some people - perfectly styled hair, confident posture, designer clothes. Everything I wasn't. "What's the matter? Couldn't hack it in the mountains?"

More laughter. I stood there, frozen, unsure how to respond. The teacher intervened, her voice sharp. "That's enough, Jake. Let's make Liam feel welcome, shall we?"

Jake. I filed the name away, already knowing he was someone to avoid.

"Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself, Liam?" the teacher prompted gently.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? That I was a perpetual new kid? That I'd been to more schools than I could count on both hands? That I was tired of always being the outsider?

"I… uh… I like to read," I finally mumbled, immediately cringing at how lame it sounded. "And… um… I play piano sometimes."

"Oh, a musician!" the teacher said brightly, clearly trying to salvage the situation. "Maybe you can join our school band."

"Yeah, I'm sure they're desperate for someone to play wonderwall badly at parties," Jake quipped, earning more laughs.

I felt my shoulders hunch, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the floor. The room seemed to be spinning slightly, and I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears.

"That's quite enough," the teacher said sternly. "Thank you, Liam. You can take your seat now."

I practically ran back to my desk, keeping my head down to avoid meeting anyone's eyes. As I sank into my chair, I could hear whispers and giggles around me. My face felt like it was on fire, and I was sure everyone could see how badly my hands were shaking.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. I couldn't focus on anything the teacher was saying, too preoccupied with replaying my humiliation over and over in my mind. When the bell finally rang, I was the first one out the door, desperate to escape.

I thought I was in the clear, but as I rounded the corner, I collided hard with someone. My books went flying, scattering across the hallway floor.

"Watch where you're going, new kid," a familiar voice sneered. I looked up to see Jake looming over me, flanked by two other guys who looked equally unfriendly.

"S-sorry," I stammered, dropping to my knees to gather my things. I reached for my history book, but Jake's foot came down on it, pinning it to the floor.

"You know, we have a tradition here at Oakwood," Jake said, his voice low and menacing. "New kids have to prove themselves. Show us they're worth having around."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with fear. "I don't want any trouble," I managed to say, hating how weak my voice sounded.

Jake laughed, a harsh sound that made me flinch. "Trouble's already found you, Colorado. Better watch your back."

He lifted his foot, and I quickly snatched my book, scrambling to my feet. Jake and his friends shouldered past me, nearly knocking me over again.

I stood there for a moment, clutching my books to my chest like a shield. The hallway was emptying as students headed to their next classes, but I couldn't make myself move. My legs felt weak, and I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack clawing at my chest.

This was worse than I'd imagined. Not even a full day in, and I'd already made an enemy.

I leaned against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. Part of me wanted to run, to go home and beg my parents to homeschool me or send me to a different school. Anything but this.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed off the wall. As I walked to my next class, I kept my head down, hyper-aware of every laugh, every whisper around me. Were they talking about me? Laughing at how pathetic I'd looked in homeroom?

I slipped into my next class just as the bell rang, sinking into a seat at the back. As the teacher started talking, I found myself staring out the window again, watching those same puffy white clouds drift by.

By the time lunch rolled around, my nerves were frayed to the breaking point. The bell rang, releasing a flood of students into the hallways. I hung back, letting the crowd thin before making my way to the cafeteria. My stomach growled, reminding me that I'd been too anxious to eat breakfast this morning.

The cafeteria doors loomed before me, the noise from inside already overwhelming. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped inside. The cacophony hit me like a physical force - hundreds of voices talking and laughing, the clatter of trays, the scrape of chairs against linoleum. The smell of mystery meat and overcooked vegetables hung heavy in the air.

I clutched my brown paper bag, my eyes darting around the room. Every table seemed full, students clustered in their familiar groups. I recognized a few faces from my morning classes, but no one met my eye or waved me over. My chest tightened as I realized I had nowhere to sit.

Swallowing hard, I took a tentative step towards an empty corner of a table. But before I could reach it, a group of giggling girls swooped in, claiming the space. I backed away, face burning, feeling like a complete idiot.

That's when I spotted Jake and his crew, holding court at a central table. Jake's eyes locked with mine, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his face. He leaned over to whisper something to his friends, and they all turned to look at me, snickering.

Panic clawed at my throat. I couldn't do this. I couldn't sit here and be a spectacle for everyone to gawk at and whisper about. The walls seemed to be closing in, the noise growing louder by the second.

Without conscious thought, my feet carried me towards the exit. I burst through the doors, gasping in the cool autumn air like a drowning man finally breaking the surface. The relative quiet of the outdoors was an immediate balm to my frayed nerves.

I looked around, desperate for somewhere - anywhere - to escape to. That's when I spotted it - a massive oak tree at the edge of the school grounds. Its branches spread wide, creating a canopy of red and gold leaves. It looked like shelter, like safety.

I made a beeline for the tree, my feet crunching through fallen leaves. As I got closer, I could see that the trunk was thick and gnarled, perfect for leaning against. The grass beneath it looked soft and inviting.

With a sigh of relief, I plopped down at the base of the tree. The rough bark pressed against my back, grounding me. I closed my eyes for a moment, just breathing, letting the quiet seep into my bones.

When I opened them again, I surveyed my surroundings. From here, I could see other kids scattered across the lawn, enjoying the unseasonably warm day. They were laughing, tossing frisbees, sharing snacks. All of them seemed so comfortable. So at ease with each other.

I pulled my slightly squashed sandwich from my bag, taking a half-hearted bite. As I chewed, I couldn't help but think about my old friends back in Colorado. We used to have lunch like this sometimes, sprawled out on the grass behind the school. Trading snacks, cracking jokes, planning our weekends. God, I missed them.

Now, here I was. Just some random new face in the crowd. Invisible. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, and I had to blink hard against the sudden sting in my eyes.

I picked at the crust of my sandwich, my appetite suddenly gone. The oak tree's branches swayed gently overhead, dappling the ground with shifting patterns of sunlight and shadow. It was peaceful here, sure. But peace wasn't the same as belonging.

As I sat there, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever find my place in this town. Or if I'd always be the outsider, watching from the sidelines as life went on without me.

I was halfway through my lunch when I noticed someone walking towards me. It was a guy with messy dark hair and a guitar strapped to his back. He had this chill, confident vibe that made me sit up straighter, my heart rate picking up a notch.

"This seat taken?" he asked with a friendly grin, pointing to the spot next to me.

I hesitated for a second, my brain short-circuiting. Was he actually talking to me? My palms grew sweaty, and I had to resist the urge to look behind me to make sure he wasn't addressing someone else. "Uh, no. Go ahead," I managed to say, my voice coming out slightly higher than normal.

The guy plopped down and set his guitar aside. "I'm Caleb," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Liam." I shook his hand, trying not to be awkward and praying my palm wasn't too clammy. "Nice to meet you."

"So, you're the new kid everyone's been talking about," Caleb said, leaning back against the tree trunk.

My stomach clenched. Everyone had been talking about me? What were they saying? I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to bolt. "Yeah, that's me," I mumbled, focusing intently on a blade of grass by my shoe.

Caleb must have sensed my discomfort because his tone softened. "Hey, no worries. Small town, you know? New faces are big news." He paused, then asked, "What brings you to our little slice of paradise?"

I couldn't help but snort, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Paradise? More like purgatory. "My dad's job. We're always moving around for his work."

Caleb nodded, his expression understanding. "That's rough, man. I can't even imagine. How's Oakwood treating you so far?"

I shrugged, picking at the crust of my sandwich. "It's alright, I guess. Just takes some getting used to." I didn't mention Jake or the disaster in homeroom. No need to come off as a total loser right off the bat.

"I feel you. It's not easy being the new guy." Caleb glanced at me, his eyes full of empathy. "But hey, at least you've got great taste in lunchtime hangouts. This is my favorite spot too."

A tiny smile tugged at my lips. Maybe Caleb wasn't so bad. "Yeah, it's nice out here. Quiet."

"Definitely beats the cafeteria chaos," Caleb agreed with a chuckle. He nodded towards my lunch. "So, what's on the menu today?"

"Oh, just a boring old PB&J," I said, holding up my sandwich. "Nothing special."

"Hey, don't knock the classics!" Caleb grinned. "PB&J is a lunchtime staple. You can't go wrong."

I laughed a little, feeling some of the tension drain out of my shoulders. It was weird, but talking to Caleb felt easier than I expected. Not completely natural yet, but not as terrifying as I'd feared.

"So, tell me about yourself," Caleb said, stretching out his legs. "What do you like to do for fun? Any hobbies?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. I didn't want to sound lame. But something about Caleb's open, friendly face made me want to open up, even as my anxiety whispered that I'd probably say something stupid.

"Well, I play piano," I admitted, bracing myself for judgment. My fingers tapped nervously against my leg as I waited for his reaction.

But Caleb's eyes lit up like Christmas trees. "Dude, that's awesome! I love the piano. It's such a beautiful instrument."

I blinked, surprised. "You… you think so?"

"Totally! I sing and play guitar, but I've always wanted to learn piano too. You'll have to give me some pointers sometime."

A genuine smile spread across my face, though I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. "Yeah, for sure. That would be cool."

Caleb beamed at me. "Amazing. I can already tell we're gonna be great friends."

Friends. The word made my heart do a little flip in my chest. Could it really be that easy? Just like that, I had a friend? Part of me wanted to believe it, but another part - the part that had been burned too many times before - held back, cautious.

"How about you join me after school?" Caleb suggested. "The music room here is pretty great. We could mess around with some tunes."

I felt a flutter of panic at the thought of more social interaction, more chances to embarrass myself. But underneath that was a tiny spark of hope, of longing for connection. I took a deep breath, pushing through the anxiety. "Yeah, I'd like that," I agreed, my voice only shaking a little.

Caleb grinned, looking genuinely pleased. "Awesome! Meet me by the main entrance after last period, okay?"

I nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in my stomach. As Caleb launched into a story about his band's latest gig, I found myself relaxing bit by bit. I was still on edge, still hyper-aware of every word I said and every move I made. But for the first time since arriving in Oakwood, I felt like maybe, just maybe, things might turn out okay.

The rest of the day crawled by at an agonizing pace. My afternoon classes blurred together in a haze of new faces, unfamiliar routines, and information that barely registered. In History, I caught myself doodling piano keys in the margins of my notebook instead of taking notes on the Civil War. During Biology, I nearly knocked over a microscope, my hands shaky with a mix of leftover anxiety and growing anticipation.

Every time I glanced at the clock, it seemed like the hands had barely moved. I kept replaying my lunch conversation with Caleb in my head, analyzing every word I'd said. Had I come across as too eager? Too awkward? What if he'd just been nice out of pity for the new kid?

But then I'd remember his genuine smile, the way his eyes had lit up when I mentioned playing piano, and a tiny spark of hope would flare in my chest. Maybe this wasn't just a pity invite. Maybe Caleb actually wanted to hang out with me.

As the final minutes of my last class ticked by, my leg bounced uncontrollably under my desk. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this nervous - or this excited - about hanging out with someone. It was like my body couldn't decide if it wanted to run away or leap for joy.

When the final bell rang, I practically leapt out of my seat. I shoved my books haphazardly into my backpack, not caring that my papers were getting crumpled. My heart was racing as I weaved through the crowds of students, muttering "excuse me" and "sorry" as I bumped into people in my rush.

I paused at the main entrance, suddenly unsure. What if Caleb had changed his mind? What if this was all some elaborate prank? I scanned the sea of faces, my stomach doing nervous flips.

Then I spotted him, leaning against the wall with his guitar case slung over his shoulder. He was chatting with a group of friends, laughing at something one of them said. For a moment, my old insecurities flared up. He looked so at ease, so comfortable. Why would someone like that want to hang out with me?

But then Caleb glanced up and saw me. His face broke into a wide grin, and he waved me over. "Liam! There you are, man. Ready to make some music?"

I felt a smile tugging at my own lips as I walked over. "Yeah," I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. "Let's do it. "

We made our way to the music room, Caleb chatting easily about his day. As we approached the door, I felt a flutter of nerves. What if I embarrassed myself? What if I couldn't play as well as he expected?

But when Caleb pushed open the door and I saw the beautiful grand piano in the corner, all my worries faded away. This, at least, was familiar territory. This was something I knew how to do.

Caleb was already setting up his guitar, grinning at me like I was the best thing he'd seen all day. "Alright, piano man," he said, gesturing to the instrument. "Show me what you've got."

"So, what should we play?" I asked, glancing over at Caleb.

He shrugged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm down for whatever. You lead the way, piano man."

I bit my lip, thinking. Then, a song popped into my head - one I'd learned ages ago, back when I first started playing. It was simple but beautiful, and something about it just felt right.

I took a deep breath and began to play, my fingers dancing over the keys. The melody filled the room, soft and sweet. After a few measures, Caleb joined in on his guitar, picking out a gentle harmony that matched with the song.

We played together like we'd been doing it for years, the music flowing between us as naturally as breathing. I lost myself in the song, in the feeling of creating something beautiful with someone else.

As the last notes faded away, I looked up to find Caleb staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Dude," he said softly. "That was incredible. You're really talented, you know that?"

I ducked my head, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Thanks. You're pretty amazing yourself."

"We make a good team," Caleb said, and the words made my heart skip a beat. A team. Him and me.

We spent the next hour messing around with different songs, laughing and joking and just enjoying each other's company. It was the most fun I'd had in ages, and I never wanted it to end. But eventually, Caleb glanced at the clock and sighed.

"I should probably head home. My mom will freak if I'm late for dinner."

"Yeah, same," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

We packed up our stuff in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other when we thought the other wasn't looking.

As we walked out of the music room, Caleb bumped his shoulder against mine. "This was really fun. We should do it again sometime."

"Definitely," I agreed, maybe a little too quickly. "I mean, if you want to."

"I want to," Caleb said firmly. "How about tomorrow? Same time, same place?"

"It's a date," I blurted out, then immediately wanted to smack myself. "I mean, not like a date-date. Just like, you know, a plan. To hang out. As friends."

Smooth, Liam. Real smooth.

But Caleb just laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "A friend-date. I like it."

He held out his fist, and I bumped it with my own, feeling a tingle run up my arm at the contact.

"See you tomorrow, Liam," he said, smiling that heart-stopping smile of his.

"See you," I echoed, watching him walk away until he disappeared around the corner.

As I made my way out of the school, I couldn't wipe the goofy grin off my face.

For the first time since I'd moved to Oakwood, I didn't feel so alone anymore. I had music, I had a friend, and I had something to look forward to.

And in that moment, that was more than enough for me.