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“So, how was your first day?” she asks as she plops down in the seat behind the desk.
“Good,” I tell her honestly, which is a little weird.
“Good. That’s always good to hear.” She gives a short pause. “Is there something I can help you with?”
I nod. “I was wondering if you can help me figure out my bus number?”
“Sure.” She turns toward the computer. “What’s your address?”
When I tell her, she types it in the system then gives me the number.
“I hope you don’t need to ride it today, though,” she says, rotating the chair back in my direction then glancing at the clock. “The buses have probably already left.”
My expression briefly plummets. “Oh.”
She offers me a look of pity. “Is there someone you can call for a ride?”
No. But not wanting her to continue to look at me with pity, I nod. “Yeah, I can call my aunt.” As tears burn in my eyes, I hurriedly turn to leave. “Thanks for looking that up for me.”
“You’re welcome,” she says as I push out the door and step into the now mostly vacant hallway.
Shit. What am I going to do?I have no damn idea.
So much for a great first day.
Resisting the urge to cry, I wander down the hallway. I could text my aunt and beg her to come get me, but that might not even work. I do a map search and see that the walk home is about seven miles. If I jogged, I could get home in a couple of hours, right before it gets dark.
Seeing no other option, I make my way toward the exit doors then pause as I’m walking by the gym. The doors are shut but have windows, and I can hear the sounds of balls being bounced. When I peek in, I see guys playing basketball. Or, more specifically, Hunter playing basketball. He’s only wearing shorts so his chest is on full display. He has a couple of small tattoos, but I’m too far away to tell what they are. He’s also lean, defined, and is dripping with sweat. It’s … Well, it’s a nice view.
“What’re you doing?”
I startle, thinking maybe this is it—the way Dixie May is going to get me back—but then I glance to the side and see Katy standing beside me. I relax just a drop, but not completely, recalling how she chased Hunter across the parking lot.
“I was just watching the tryouts,” I say. “Well, glancing at them.”
Her gaze flicks from the window to me then she crosses her arms. “Hunter’s in there.”
“Um, yeah, I know.” I adjust the handle of my backpack. “I wasn’t watching him, though.” Liar. I was totally watching him.
Her brow meticulously arches. “Bullshit. I saw you drive off today with Hunter in his car.”
“Well, I was technically with Harlow, Hunter’s sister—”
“I know who Hunter’s sister is,” she cuts me off, stepping toward me. “Everyone does. Everyone also knows she’s a freak. So if you’re hanging out with her, that makes you a freak. At least, by a technicality.”
So over this conversation, I lift my brows. “Okay, I’m gonna go.” I move to step around her, but she grabs ahold of my arm.
“Stay away from Hunter,” she warns, gripping my arm tightly.
I roughly jerk away from her then lean in. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.”
She glares at me, and I glare right back before walking off.
Dude, Hunter was right. She is a crazy lunatic. I’m just glad I decided to go to lunch with Harlow today and not sit down in the cafeteria with her friends.
Once I leave crazy pants behind, I leave the school and embark on the lovely journey home. Okay, lovely might be a stretch. Well, the scenery isn’t bad, shifting from quaint shops and stores to farmland the farther I walk. But the walk itself is exhausting. And boring.
I’m about one step away from lighting up, even if it means risking getting busted, when I receive a message. I dig out my phone and read it, half-expecting it to be from that unknown number. But it’s from Harlow.
