So High School – Taylor Swift
“Hey guys, this is Kane. He’s new, so I told him to come sit with us,” Marcus says as he saunters up to our usual table in the cafeteria. I quickly look up from my food to see the gorgeous black-haired new kid from my English class staring straight at me, a soft smirk curling his lips. Stunned, I forget to chew my food and start to choke, quickly chugging my water to clear my throat.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Marcus asks, rounding the table to pat me on the back, but I’m stuck staring straight at Kane.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I finally clear my throat and mutter, “I’m fine.”
Marcus and Kane sit down across from Morgan and me as Marcus says, “This is Avery, and the blonde bombshell on the right is Morgan.” Shooting a wink her way, he adds, “Viper, you look good.”
A “fuck you” look fills her face, but a blush works its way up her neck. Their teasing has been this way since we met Morgan freshman year, effectively making us a trio.He’s one of my closest friends, given his mother easily took on the role of mother to me when mine couldn’t be bothered. He’s been a constant in my life since.
Kane’s gaze slides back to mine, and my stomach dips as I wait for him to say something. But Marcus, completely oblivious, leans forward and launches into a recap their most recent practice—because,surprise, Kane is also on the football team. Apparently, he’s the new quarterback, easily replacing the old starting senior. He was recruited his first week here, as if his popularity wasn’t already at the top of the charts from the moment he stepped foot in the school two weeks ago. He’s dark and broody, with an air of confidence radiating from him. All the girls flocked to him, even more so because he’s the first new student we’ve seen in our grade since sophomore year.
Kane sits with his food in front of him, eating his pizza while laughing at something Marcus said. I catch him stealing glances at me every now and again, forcing me to pretend like I haven’t also been staring at him—even though he’s caught me too.
I admire the way his tight black T-shirt hugs his upper arms, showcasing his obvious effort in the gym, and the slight curls in his messy black locks that give an effortless, just-rolled-out-of-bed look. It makes him way too hot for his own good.
Eventually, he meets my gaze and we hold eye contact.
“So, Avery,” he says, “did you remember to bring me a pencil today?” A smile fills his face as I hit him with my best scowl.
“Wait, you know each other?” Marcus asks.
“Yes, we have English Lit together.” Kane finishes off his pizza, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“Yes, English. Where you need something to write withevery day, Kane,” I say, looking at him while I stab my salad too forcefully with my fork. The way he gets under my skin like no one else is infuriating. Every time he drops into the seat behind me in class, chills cover my whole body at his proximity, paired with the unrelenting, pointless questions he tries to ask me until Mr. Adams finally asks us both to be quiet.
“Hey, I’ve only forgotten a couple times, and thank goodness I have such a great person in front of me to have my back.” He winks at me and the butterflies in my stomach take flight, like they do every time he looks at me.
It’s a strange and new reaction, given this boy frustrates me more than anyone else I’ve met. His cocky confidence annoys me as much as it interests me. He walks around as if nothing fazes him. He’s not overly friendly, but I’ve seen him talk to more people this week than I have in three years going here. Not that I’ve tried that hard, preferring to keep to my small circle, but still.
I roll my eyes. “Or you could come prepared to class like the rest of us. I’ve lost three pencils so far, and those were my good ones,” I snark, having no real comeback. I can never tell if he’s flirting with me or trying to piss me off. Maybe both?
“I’ve never seen you need a pencil,” Marcus says to Kane, his brow furrowed in confusion. “And we have three classes together.”
A guilty look crosses Kane’s face, and I gape at him incredulously. He’s always finding little ways to bug me or distract me—always needing something and not listening to what the teacher is saying, forcing us to be partners.
I shake my head, ready to tell him off. But the bell rings, saving him from whatever accusation I was about to hurl at him. What, I’m not sure, and I don’t let myself think about itas I sling my backpack—not a stylish choice, but my back thanks me for not lugging around a heavy tote bag all day—over my shoulder.
I’m reaching for my tray when two large hands steal it from me. I look up to find Kane dumping the contents along with his own before returning both trays. He looks back at me when he finishes, a smile tugging at his mouth.
Even more confused, I stalk off, but he quickly joins me, keeping stride beside me. I would normally put my white corded headphones on while I walk to class, preferring to be left alone rather than listen to the constant state of chaos around me, but I don’t this time. Instead, Kane and I walk in silence.
I notice him fidgeting with his hands as we walk, something clearly on his mind, but I don’t ask. When we get to my class, I turn, ready to ask Kane why he walked me all this way. I’m not sure what his schedule looks like, but I have yet to see him before or after this class. Not that I’ve checkedthatmuch—just afewtimes.
Except I don’t get a chance to, because he suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me off to the side. He releases my wrist once we’re out of the way, allowing students to pass us. Some shoot us a curious look, probably to gossip about later. Going to a smaller school doesn’t mean less gossip, it means nothing stays a secret for long.
I stare up at him, a wrinkle between my brows as I wait for him to speak. My gaze drops down to his fingers, spotting four silver rings adorning them. A skull on his right pointer finger, and a silver band with words I can’t read from this angle engraved on it on his other thumb.
“Go out with me,” Kane finally says.
My eyes shoot up to him, and I stare at him for a couple seconds, an open and honest expression on hisface. “What?” I stammer out, confused with the turn of events.
He drives his right hand through his hair, pushing those curls up and making it even messier.
“Go out with me,” he repeats. “On a date.” A smile graces his face. I hear the bell ringing around us, but neither of us moves, lost in our own little world in the corner of this hallway.
“You want to take me on a date?” I ask, still confused by what’s happening. I loop my hands around the straps of my backpack. The heavy weight slowly makes my shoulders ache from carrying it around all day. Suddenly, I regret packing that extra romance book I didn’t get around to finishing last night.
