He buries his nose in the textbook and his black hair settles on his face, barely covering his brown eyes. He has the same haircut most of the popular guys have around here—a skin taper fade. It’s shaved from the neck up to mid-way on the sides, with long hair on the top that he either gels back or leaves relaxed where it can be played with.
It’s a popular haircut choice because the guys think it makes them appear “sexy” when they play with their own hair. Plus, the girls in this school seem to love it, which doesn’t help the façade. All it does for me is trigger eye rolls.
I catch Ben watching me from his peripherals. He reaches his left hand out, the silver rings on it shining in the fluorescent lighting, and gently nudges my head toward my own textbook. He always wears a silver ring on his index finger with a cross cut out of it, and two plain silver rings on his middle finger and pinky that are linked by a chain. A tingling warmth returns to mycheeks and my stomach leaps into my chest at his hand in my hair. I’m going to miss that once he’s away at college.
The corners of my lips fight turning up as I wander over the page, not absorbing any real information as I attempt to focus on anything other than his touch.
Chapter Two.
The rest of the day blurred by. I completely checked out in every other class because I couldn’t get out of my head. Each person squealing with excitement at their acceptance letters further fueled the anger and self-loathing bubbling under the surface, fighting to get out.
Unfortunately, those seem to be the only emotions I'm in touch with anymore. Growing up as an emotionless zombie never bugged me, until recently. I’ve only cried five times in my life, and Ben witnessed two of them, one of them being in public. Crying at a junior high dance when no one would dance with me was a low point, but Ben was kind enough to leave his date to slow dance with me a couple times and made sure I was okay before he went back to her.
But right now, hearing everyone talk about what major they’re going to pursue, how stoked they are to goto college, who they’re going to room with, and their big plans for the summer make me want to stab someone.
Next week is May. No oneeverhears of anyone getting acceptance letters in May, which means this weekend is my last chance to hear from any colleges. If I don’t get in, I have no idea what I’m going to do, let alone how I’m going to show my face in public.
I pull open locker twenty-three and pretend to get dressed for track practice, sifting through my gym bag and all the crap crammed in it. Per usual, I wait until everyone leaves before changing.
Being shy about my body isn’t anything new. I developed over the summer of my junior year, but my flat abs, small chest and thin legs just can’t compare to what God gave the other girls my age around here. Tossing my small frame out in front of the other girls’ voluptuous bodies wasn’t something that enticed me.
I change into my sports bra and athletic shorts and stare at myself in the mirror in a futile attempt at some confidence building. Well, I guess having a B-cup is better than nothing. I turn to the side and stare at my small waist, six pack and petite butt.
My mother says my petite figure is “cute”. I disagree.Ithink it keeps me looking like a little girl which can’tpossibly be attractive to guys. I brush off the thought and pull my long brunette hair into a high ponytail, taking a deep breath to clear my ruminations before going to the track field.
Ben typically stays around after school to either watch me practice or lift weights but a quick scan around the stadium and behind the bleachers tells me he isn’t here.
Is he with Tree?
I sigh at the intrusive assumption.
Their relationship has become a spectacle everyone’s invested in. The question as of late? Will they get back together before graduation or finally break up for good this time? Thankfully she was accepted into Patron University which is five hours away from here so the odds are in my favor.
I hope beyond hope they’re done. He’s completely miserable when he’s with her so I don’t know why he keeps going back. He tells me each time he dates her again that he wishes he wouldn’t, but it’s like she has a death grip on him. I once joked she invoked some witch curse on him, but then I heard the truth and realized it was nothing so nefarious. It was sex. And since sex forms not only a physical bond, but an emotional one that’s hard to break… leaving someone behind who you did it with can be challenging. Something in how our brain chemistry works or whatever. Or maybe he’s just weak, I don’t know.
Regardless of the reality of it, Iloathedto my core that he wasted his first time on her.
I walk over to a group of my teammates who’re standing in a tight circle on the grass in the middle of the track field with their heads bowed down. Shirley turns around and smiles at me when I try to peek over her shoulder.
“Hey, Charlie!”
“Hey. What’s everyone looking at?”
She motions me into the group and points at Kate’s phone.
Ahhh. Him.
Kate restarts the video on her Xypher social media app right when I lean forward to see better. Last month, this guy randomly appeared on social media, taking the school by storm. And when I saytook the school by storm, I mean took thegirlsat this school by storm. Their obsession with him is beyond unhealthy.
The video plays on repeat as an insanely hot guy, from what I can tell, dances seductively in a motorcycle helmet. He keeps his identity a secret—no one can figure out who he is, how old he is, or if he’s even inschool. His anonymity is the only thing that keeps him hot… or it could be the tight black shirt and grey sweatpants he wears in most of his vids.
Thus far, I’ve avoided creating an account on the app, so the only time I've watched him is when other girls show him to me on their phones.
“Isn’t hesohot? I mean his biceps practically rip his T-shirt sleeves every time he flexes, and you cantotallytell he’s got a six pack under there! Ugh, and his tan skin?So.Fucking. Hot,” Shirley gushes with a girlish squeal.
I roll my eyes in response. “Sure, Shirl.”
Weaving my way out of the circle, I step back far enough so I can speak to the entire team.
