12. Maddison

Maddison

I used to loathe the first day of school. Like I mentioned before, I never had a ton of friends, so walking into the school hallways all by myself was the equivalent of getting shoved into a locker, something that happened to me in middle school. No, I take that back. That day wasn’t that awful because I got to avoid all the school drama. Right now, I wish lockers lined the shiny, overly polished hallway because then I’d shove myself into one.

I have to remind myself multiple times that I chose to attend this school.

Guys keep smirking at me, for what, who the hell knows? And don’t even get me started on the girls throwing me dirty looks. Not all of them, of course, but it’s enough to make me feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

Thankfully, I’m a pro at the whole I-give-zero-craps attitude and manage to hold my head up high to my first class of the day. I try to keep a casual vibe for my outfit, sporting baggy jeans and a gray top that reaches just above my belly button. I have a few tattoos; one on my arm, another on my side, and the final one is on my leg, but none of them are on display. My hair is in a ponytail, and I rocked my scuffed boots. Again, it’s evident I’m from northside, but what else am I supposed to do? Hide who I am? No, thanks. And I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

“Hey, new girl,” a guy calls out as I stroll into class, adjusting my backpack. He has blond hair and the body of a football player. He’s also donning a grin as he leans over and pats the seat beside him. “I saved you a seat.”

“Hard pass,” I reply then veer toward an empty seat that’s as far away from him as possible and plop down into it.

“Well, that was rude.” Humor rings in his tone. “I saved you a seat, and you blow me off? Do you even know who I am?” His voice is growing closer, which means he’s walking toward me.

I ignore him, but I’m on guard, my fingers curled into fist. If I have to hit him, I will.

“Porter, leave her alone,” another voice joins the conversation, deep and male and recognizable.

I sigh. River. What is this guy’s deal with me?

“Why does it matter to you?” the blond guy replies.

“That’s none of your damn business,” River tells him in a glacial tone. “Now go sit the hell down.”

This causes me to twist around in my seat. Up until this point, I thought River was a quiet, brooding sort of guy. He has an intense side to him, too, that he likes to display.

Today, he’s wearing gray pants and a black short-sleeved shirt. Like every other time I’ve seen him, his dark hair is dangling in his eyes. He’s also standing right behind me and glaring at the blond dude, who has his hands raised in front of him and backs away.

River continues to glower until Blondie sits his ass back down. Then he turns to me with his lips parted.

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” I speak first. “I can handle assholes. I’ve been doing it my entire life.” I twist back around in the chair.

I’m sitting in the middle row. The seats are staggered, like in a stadium, only this room is much smaller. The ceiling is high arched with beams, and bookshelves line the walls. Fitting since it’s American Literature.

“I wasn’t going to ask you if you were okay about Porter.” River hesitates before sitting down in the chair beside me. “I was going to check and make sure your ankle is okay.”

“It’s fine. Your sister said you texted and asked if I was okay.” I pause then add, “Thanks for checking on me.”

Amusement flashes across his face.

“What?” I wonder if I have pieces of bagel stuck in my teeth or something.

“It’s nothing.” But his amusement suggests otherwise. He attempts to scrub his hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide it, but I see it, there and glittering.

I narrow my eyes at him as I swing my bag off my shoulder and drop it beside my feet. “Clearly, it is, or you wouldn’t be smiling like that.”

He lowers his hand from his mouth and rests his arms on the table in front of us. “Fine, it’s just that you said thanks.”

“And …?”

He shrugs. “And it was almost like you were getting your teeth pulled.”

Okay, it’s frightening how on-point he is. Still … “I say sorry on occasion.”

“Okay.”

“I do,” I insist defensively.

“And I said okay.” He’s on the verge of smiling again.

“You know, when I first met you, back in that place we’re both pretending we weren’t at, I got the impression that you were the quiet, brooding type, but I misread you.” I lean over to dig a pen and notebook out of my bag. By the time I sit up, his smile has faded. I heave a dramatic sigh. “What did I say now?”

“Nothing.” He falls silent. I’ve struck a nerve, yet I’m not sure if it was the subtle mention of us being in jail or my remark about him being quiet and brooding. And I shouldn’t care. I’ve never cared about a guy before. But I told Lily I’d try.

He remains silent as he unzips his leather bag and pulls out a laptop.

I realize everyone else has one out, as well. Why I didn’t think of that is beyond me. I have one back in my dorm. It’s old and worn, but at least it’s functional.

“Crap, I forgot my computer,” I mumble then move to stand up.

He snags a hold of the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing my flesh.

If I thought I felt butterflies when he touched my arm after we crashed into each other, I was wrong. Because holy fluttering monarchs, does my stomach erupt with flutters to the point where I startle.

“Sorry.” He quickly jerks back.

“You’re fine.” I think.

I don’t know …

What the hell was that?

“Sorry,” he replies again, in a much more even tone. “I was just going to say that if you’re late to this class, Professor Madella will make a big deal about it in front of everyone.”

Grimacing, I lower back down into the chair. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“I assumed so.”

“Why?”

He lifts a shoulder. “You just seem like the type who doesn’t like to draw attention, even though you do.” He stares down at the keyboard of his laptop.

“Yeah, I know. I reek of northside, don’t I?” I sink back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“No, that’s not it.” He avoids eye contact with me as he boots up his laptop.

“What is it, then?” I question then add dryly, “My charming personality?”

He rubs his lips together, on the verge of smiling again. “You say that like you’re joking, but it’s kind of true.”

I put the end of my pen to my lip. “Only kind of, huh?”

His smile breaks through, but he hastily wipes it away as a guy with brown hair steps up in front of us and clears his throat. He’s cute with full lips and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. He also seems vaguely familiar.

“I hate to break up this little moment, but I need the keys to the car. I left my bag in the trunk the other day.” He sneaks a curious glance in my direction.

It takes me a moment to connect where I’ve seen him—he was the guy who waved at me while I was running.

River pats his pockets then fishes out a set of keys. “Just make sure to lock it up.” All of his humor is gone. He’s not rude or anything like that; merely guarded.

The guy offers him a tense smile then looks at me. “You’re the new girl, right?”

“The one and only,” I tell him. “I prefer to be called Maddy, though, not new girl.”

“I’ll make a mental note of that.” He starts down the aisle. “I’m Noah, but I’m sure you’ve already heard of me.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond as he exits the classroom.

“That’s your stepbrother,” I state as the name clicks.

“Yep,” he mutters while staring down at his hands.

I sense some tension there. “You two don’t get along?”

“We’re just not friends.” He slants back in his chair, crosses his arms, and stares straight ahead. And there’s the broody, quiet guy whom I first saw in jail.

I decide to let the conversation drop, but I’m curious what’s behind the tension. My best bet is the fact that Noah’s mom had an affair with River, Finn, and Lily’s dad, which led to the divorce and remarriage.

As we sink into silence, I note a girl at the bottom of the aisle staring at me. She has long, blonde hair in braids, her makeup is minimal but flawless, and her fitted green sweater and wide, pin-striped pants look fashionable. Her gaze slides between me and River, and her brows furrow.

“Um, so I hate to break up your little solo brooding moment, but who is that girl staring at us?” I give a subtle nod in her direction.

He tracks the nod, and his frown deepens as he hastily looks away. “That’s Isla.”

“Oh, the betrothed.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Shit, sorry. That was probably insensitive.”

His gaze shifts to me. “Lily told you?”

I tap my pen against the desk. “Only because I was asking her all these questions about why everyone was staring at me during orientation. I thought it was because I was from northside—and honestly, I’m still convinced that’s part of it—but then she told me about the”—I gesture at the front of the classroom where Isla is—“well, you know.” I feel awful, considering the moroseness that’s consumed his features. “Sorry for bringing it up. I like to do this thing sometimes where I put my foot in my mouth. It’s a real friend magnet, let me tell you.”

His eyes scroll over me. “You’re not that bad.”

“Only somewhat bad,” I quip, to which he responds with an attempt at stifling a smile. I fiddle with the cap on my pen, sliding it off and on. “So, I have a subject change I’m going to offer right now to slide on right by this.” I set the pen down to stop my fidgeting. I’m not even positive why I’m doing it. Okay, that’s a lie. I know exactly why—because I’m about to ask for a favor.

He absentmindedly rotates a ring on his finger. “Okay, what is it?”

“It’s a favor,” I start then hastily tact on, “And you can totally say no. Your sister suggested that I ask you—or, well, she said I could ask you, Finn, or Noah, because you’re all on sports teams.” And … I’m rambling. “But, anyway, I want to get onto the cross country team, and Lily said it was hard to navigate the sports world at the academy. So, if you could offer me some pointers on navigating it all, that’d be so helpful.” I give him a cheeky grin at the end of my speech, hoping that’ll entice him even more.

He blinks at me then stares like I sprouted a unicorn horn out of my ass. “You’re asking me about sports?”

“Um … yeah?” I grow a bit twitchy. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. In fact, forget I asked.”

“No, it’s not that.” He shakes his head and blinks again. “Sorry, it’s just that when someone asks for a favor, it’s usually something much bigger than me giving pointers.”

“I can actually understand that.” I chew on my bottom lip. “I mean, I’m sure you heard my convo with my mother on the phone, back when … well, you know.”

Discomfort radiates from him. “I did hear a little,” he confesses. “Finn did, too. We didn’t eavesdrop on purpose or anything like that. It’s just that?—”

“We were in a confined space,” I finish for him, whispering. “You don’t have to explain why. I know I was being an asshole back when we were in there, but I was having a shitty night.”

His eyes search mine. “Why were you in there?”

“Why were you in there?” I throw back at him. When reluctance flashes across his face, I add, “How about I show you mine when you show me yours?”

A strange look rises on his expression. My bet is his mind went to a dirty place from the words I uttered, but all he says is, “Fair enough.”

He begins rotating the ring around his finger again and fixes his attention on the front of the room as an older woman with short dark hair, wearing a striped pantsuit, enters the classroom. She marches straight up the podium, sets her briefcase down, and focuses on the room.

“Welcome to American Literature,” she begins, her firm tone jarring for such an early hour in the morning. “The first thing you should know about my class is …” Her words fade as a student hurries into the room.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he makes a beeline for an open seat while clutching a laptop.

“Well”—the professor looks at the classroom again—“I was just about to give my rules on being tardy for my class. However, since this young man has decided to do just that, let me make an example of what will happen if you’re late.” She strolls out from behind the podium and approaches the guy. “What’s your name?”

He shifts in his desk. “Sebastian.”

“Well, Sebastian”—she stops in front of him—“let’s give the class a demonstration on why not to be tardy, shall we?”

River was right. I don’t ever want to be tardy to this class. After putting Sebastian on the spot, she proceeded to ask him all sorts of questions about American Literature, why he made the poor life choice to be late, and why he’ll never be late again. I actually experienced some secondhand embarrassment from him.

“Thanks for the heads-up on not being late to this class,” I tell River as I stuff my notebook and pen into my bag.

I have about an hour between this class and my next, and I have plans to return to my dorm room to grab my laptop and give my hand a break with the writing.

He slings his bag over his shoulder. “No problem. I gave Lily a heads-up about this before she came here. This school is …” He wavers. “Well, a lot about it sucks, but the classes are excellent. Tough, but if you’re looking for the best education, it’s worth the toughness … Sometimes, anyway.”

“It’s worth it to me; trust me. I was supposed to go to the community college,” I say as we make our way out of the aisle and toward the exit. “I had a scholarship and everything, but that lovely little incident when we first met led to that getting revoked. But I lucked out when I got one here.”

I expect him to ask me how I got one here, but he just says, “What was your scholarship for at the community college? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You’re fine.” I do my best to disregard all the staring that happens the instant we step foot into the hallway. “It was for cross country, track, and my excellent academics.” I throw him a grin because, while the scholarship did get revoked, I had to kick ass to obtain it.

His brows shoot upward. “Really?”

I nod, slipping the heavy bag higher onto my shoulder. “Yeah, really.” I playfully nudge him with my shoulder. “You don’t need to seem so surprised about it. North-siders can kick butt, too.”

“I’m not surprised because you’re a north-sider,” he explains as he stuffs his hands into his pockets while sneaking a glance around at the people nearby. A frown pulls at his lips, but it fades when he returns his attention to me. “It’s just that getting a scholarship like that is difficult. I know because I got one here. They actually don’t give out money for that due to the fact that, well, you know.”

“Almost everyone here has money.”

“Yeah. But, anyway, it gave me a secured spot on the team because, like Lily said, it’s hard as hell to get on any athletic team at the academy. And honestly, when you asked me to give you some pointers on how to get onto the team, I assumed you were just a normal runner who wanted to make the team. So, the surprise comes from the fact that you’re clearly not the average runner.”

“If I was, I probably wouldn’t have asked you.” I inch closer to him to move around a group of guys loitering in the hallway. “I’ve read all the info on the website, and I could tell it was going to be a pain to get on the team. Not impossible, but I’m definitely going to have to up my training until tryouts, which is in a few weeks, right?”

He nods, slowing to a stop in front of an arched doorway that appears to lead to another hallway. “I have class this way, and I have to hurry because I need to talk to the professor before class starts, but I’d be more than happy to help you. Just get my number from Lily and text me a bit later today, and we can meet up somewhere and go over stuff.”

I’ll admit, I’m a bit excited about this. Although, being who I am, a trace of suspicion resides inside me as to why he’s so willing to help me.

“Awesome.” I start to back away from him. “You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were going to be a total douche. And when we first met, I thought, Yep, nailed it . But you’re not so bad.” I smile so he knows I’m playing.

Well, sort of.

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, as if biting back a smile. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I wink at him then spin around, feeling lighter than I have in a long time.

Of course, as I’m heading back to my room, my phone rings with an incoming call from my mother, which sends me into a mood dive.

“No,” I mutter, silencing her call. “I won’t let her ruin this for me.”

She calls me again as I’m entering the my room. This time, I allow it to go to voicemail on its own as I kick the door shut behind me.

Lily isn’t back yet, so I get a cup of water before heading to my room. I brought a few snacks with me when I moved in, and I mostly plan on eating in the cafeteria for breakfast, lunch, and dinner since my scholarship covers that, but I need to pick up more snacks when I head into town to work this weekend, particularly ones that have high protein in them. Although, those are generally expensive.

What I need is a better, closer job, but that would mean having to apply to jobs in Royal City, and I highly doubt I’ll get hired for those?—

Ping .

Apparently, my mother left me a voicemail. I have no desire to listen to another one from her. However, I must be a glutton for punishment since I press play , anyway, as I flop down onto my bed.

“ Hey, sweetie ,” she says. “ I was just calling to see where you are. I’d like to get together soon and talk about some stuff. I think you might be ignoring me, and I’m guessing it’s because I borrowed that money, but honey, I needed it for bills. You shouldn’t have ever hid it from me. And you got out of jail, anyway, so I don’t get what the big deal is .” She sighs. “ Can you please call me back? Maybe we can get together after you work on Friday? You’re still working Friday shifts, right? Let me know. Love you. ”

My fingers curl around the phone for some many different reasons, one being how she blamed me for her taking my money. But that’s not the worst part. No, the worst part is the giant red flag laced in her words—her eagerness to know if I work on Friday.

I’m not positive, but either she wants to make a sporadic visit to blindside me, or she’s attempting to get my location for someone else, like Drew and his gang.

“Shit.” I sit up and press the heel of my hand to my forehead as my mind begins to spin.

Not a ton of people are aware that I work at that café, so I wasn’t too concerned about going to work. Now, I’m freaking the hell out, because I have to work. But if I go, I could end up getting caught by Drew and his friend, and then what? I don’t know for certain, but it won’t be good.

The only silver lining is that my boss already let me switch my schedule to Saturday and Sunday, something my mother isn’t aware of. Still, I need to look into getting another job.

Shaking my head, I lie back down on my bed and stare up at the pretty ceiling. Everything is so beautiful, pristine, and nice, to the point of near perfect. Light, that’s what I think of when I look around at my surroundings. And yet, my life is clouded with darkness, proof that I can take myself out of northside, but I can’t take northside out of myself, even if I desperately want to.