Page 6 of Under the Influence

Jovie sighs, pushing her chair away with a screech, not answering Crew’s question, and struts out of the cafeteria.

“She’s so salty about it,” Avery laughs. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Who is she?” I ask Avery, Crew leaning in close for the answer.

“That’s Cori Clark. Jovie’s cousin.”

Nash stands up in a hurry, stomping out of the cafeteria behind Jovie, nearly taking the door off the hinges.

What the heck is going on?

Avery laughs a little, shaking her head. “She’s a total psychopath. Jovie said her parents shipped her here after she got kicked out of school for murder.”

I look at Crew and we both bust out in laughter.

Avery glares at us both before standing, “Laugh all you want, Crew Collins. Don’t come crying to me when she goes all Lorena Bobbitt on you.”

With that, she walks away, leaving us looking around like fools. By the time I turn back to where Ms. Mason was standing, they’re gone.

I search the hallways for Nash before giving up and making it to the last block of the day. An easy last class before a grueling hour and a half of baseball conditioning.

After school, I wait for Nash at my locker. He usually meets me there, and we walk down to the field together, but he doesn’t show. Jonah, Gavin, and our shortstop, Madden, are already throwing and warming up when I make it to practice. I scan the field and dugout for Nash but don’t see him anywhere.

“Have you seen Nash?” I ask the guys.

“No, not since lunch.” Crew states, tossing the ball into Madden’s glove across the field.

Jonah rolls his eyes, “He’s probably just messing around, you know how he is.”

“He needs to be behind the plate,” I growl.

Crew snorts, “He’s behind a cheerleader instead. I put money on it.”

All the guys laugh, continuing to loosen up their arms, and I steal a freshman catcher to come to the bullpen with me.

I shoot off several text messages that go unanswered, which isn’t unusual.

My eyes still search the field and what I can see of the parking lot for Nash. He’s a party boy, a ladies’ man, and pretty unpredictable most of the time, but he never misses baseball practice.

Never.

Not one time since Middle School.

The thought makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up as worry sets in. I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, so I toss my glove into my bat bag and head to the cages. It’s where I go when I need to clear my mind. It's hard to think about the outside world when you’re trapped in a net with balls flying by every few seconds.

CHAPTER

THREE

CORI

"Just keep your head down and try to blend in," Aunt Lauren says quietly as we pull into the Legacy High School parking lot. "This is nothing like Chicago."

I can't keep a sarcastic chuckle from escaping as I shake my head. She doesn't know the first thing about Chicago. She turns to me with a warning, "I'm serious, Corinne. No trouble."

The car stops in front of the school doors, and I walk straight in, quickly finding the office. A lively woman greets me from behind the desk, "You must be our new student, Corinne Clark. I'll call our guidance counselor, Ms. Mason, and she'll show you around."

She reaches for the phone, and I look around the office, chuckling to myself when I see a poster that reads, What will your Legacy be?