I flicked on the overheads, and he swiveled in his chair. Good-looking fellow, if a bit pale, with a mop of dusty blond hair, thick brows, large blue eyes. He wore torn jeans, Converse, and a black V-neck T-shirt revealing various necklaces, including a chain choker. I’m sure the girls—or boys, or both—in his class were all over him.
I offered my hand. “Good to meet you, Easton.”
He stared at it, sizing me up with a lot more balls than I’d give a junior credit for. “Likewise.”
“Okay.” I withdrew my hand. “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“Doesn’t quite narrow it down, mate. I’m not aces in geography, but doesn’t California possess a vast array of cities and towns?”
Easton went back to his screen. “I’m from Los Angeles. And to spare us the getting-to-know-you chitchat, I applied here on my own, was accepted, forged some paperwork, and here I am. But because my parents have a shit-ton of money and are the literal scum of the earth, they followed me and are moving to Newport next year.” His gaze flickered to me. “So. We good?”
“Um…sure,” I said, completely unsure what I was supposed to do with all that. “Are you coming to the bonfire tomorrow night? Maybe I could—”
“No.”
Okay, good talk.
I took a shower to wash off the ugly shit I’d witnessed in the parking lot. When I came back out, Easton was gone. I hoped he wasn’t going to be this much of a killjoy all year, but I felt bad for the guy. I’d been shipped clear across the Atlantic, and while my parents weren’t exactly warm fuzzy types, they still loved me. I’d never not known that.
Easton spoke as if he’d tried toescapehis parents and they’d given chase.
He’s being dramatic, surely.
No matter. I vowed to have him laughing by month’s end. It’s what I did, after all. Make ’em laugh, keep ’em charmed and happy so they’ll never know. Never suspect…
Harper suspects. Hell, you might even tell her…
I shelved the thought before it could finish forming. She didn’t need the poor little rich boy dumping his problems in her lap. My brain might struggle with short text, butSECOND WARNING BENDERcame in loud and clear. They’d already harassed her twice now. Third time was the charm because I knew what “senior prank” meant.
Now I had another job to do.
Chapter 5Harper
Friday morning.
I paced the primary bedroom of our little house—my bedroom, technically—feeling the minutes stack up. Mom was in the attached bathroom, showering, running late for work, which was making Dash late for school, which was going to makemelate for school.
“I know, I know,” Mom said, finally coming out in a towel and a cloud of steam. “It’s all yours.”
I gritted my teeth and took my turn. I had about three minutes of hot water.
“One more day,” I muttered, dragging a comb through my hair while frantically looking for something to wear. “Just one more day, then two glorious days off from the madness.”
Dressed and packed, I raced downstairs, thanking the gods of foresight that I made lunches the night before.
“Dash, let’s go.”
“I’m ready,” he chirped from the door, backpack and shoes on, bless his little heart.
“Mom, don’t forget,” I said, grabbing my keys from the hook onthe wall. “I have the bonfire tomorrow night. It’s kind of a big deal. My new friends will be there.”
“I remember, baby,” she said, shouldering her own purse. “The little man and I will watch a movie. Now scoot. Have a good day.”
I heaved a breath. A good day wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
I was late to Calculus, where Emery Wallace kept shooting me weird looks, as if she was trying to work up the nerve to talk to me. The same thing happened in English class. I couldn’t take Emery’s stare any more, or any more Richie bullshit, so while Ms. Alvarez was busy getting organized for the day, I asked Emery flat-out, “Can I help you?”
