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It’s like he’s been put on earth to destroy me. At least that’s what it feels like, thanks to the cornucopia of awkward encounters that are stacking up.
Stop it, Sky. You’ve got bigger problems on your plate than your stepbrother.
I shake all thoughts of Noah away from my mind and force myself to think about school instead. Is everyone going to stare at me constantly because I’m the new girl? Will it be worse if they don’t? If I somehow slide past their scrutiny because I truly am the afterthought, the shadow that no one sees, will that be better?
God, I hate my brain.
Before I can get my anxiety in check, we pull into the school parking lot that’s already teeming with students.
“Chin up,” Daisy commands softly as I stare at the red brick building that looks like something out of a storybook. Our last high school was a gray concrete monstrosity that resembled more of a prison than an institute of learning.
This place…it’s quaint. With ivy carving its way up the brick and large white windows. The windows in our other school were tiny slits, a style of architecture that was popular in the seventies. You couldn’t see anything clearly from inside, and maybe that was the goal. So you felt trapped.
This school, though, doesn’t look as scary as I had made it up in my mind. At least not at first glance.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the sea that permeates everything here, and smile.
Maybe it’s the one thing I don’t actually hate about Thatcher’s Bay. In fact, the sea breeze is starting to grow on me. And if I can get accustomed to that, maybe I can feel at home with other things too. But with each step that Daisy and I take toward the building, no matter how hard I try to hold onto that sliver of hope that things will be different for me here, it quickly begins to fade. And in its place, panic sets in, my anxiety reminding me that it’s never far away. I can almost hear it laugh the second we pass through the school’s doors, and all eyes fall on us.
Fuck my life.
“I bet we’re the firstnewpeople they’ve had in years,” Daisy muses, shooting a group of letterman-clad jocks a flirty smile as we pass. I feel the tip of my ears redden, and I find myself trying to shrink and hide beside her as their gazes bore into my skin. “Mmmh. So far, so good. I’m starting to think that the ocean air does something for the boys here, cause they sure grow up nice around these parts. I’ve already seen some delicious ones I’d like to nibble on.”
I squeak when one of the so-called ‘delicious ones’ pops up next to me and shoots me a winning smile.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he teases, as if he knows exactly who we are.
He’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome…with dark blue eyes that remind me of a midnight sky. Unlike Noah’s, whose eyes look like the vast ocean on a summer’s day. Either it’s the thought of my stepbrother’s eyes sneaking its way into my head without permission, or the fact that this Adonis is still walking in step with us, staring at me like I’m some candy he wants to put in his mouth, I lose the ability to speak.
“Yes, we are,” sasses Daisy next to me, saving me from actually having to form words. The guy flicks his attention her way briefly and grins before bringing it back to me.
I almost faint.
I hate the attention. Especially from strangers. Even cute strangers like him.
“Kyle,” he says, holding out his hand for me to take.
My mouth opens and closes, and I swear I’m trying to force words out. But nothing fucking comes from between my lips.
“Skylar. Her name’s Skylar.” Daisy saves me yet again, but I know my sister well enough that she’s doing her best to stop herself from laughing at how ridiculous I’m being right now.
“Skylar,” he repeats, like he’s savoring the taste of my name on his lips. “Welcome to Bayshore High. Hope to see more of you.”
Before I can get a “me too,” or anything out, someone calls his name ahead of us. He shoots me one more smile and then strides off, leaving me in a puddle of regret.
“I really didn’t think you could level up any further from how awkward you are, but it seems I was wrong,” she groans with an exaggerated exhale, after she’s made sure no one is close enough to hear her. I shoot my sister a glare, wanting to find a hole to bury myself in. But of course she’s not done with me yet. She places both her hands on my shoulders and gives me a supportive smile. “Repeat after me. ‘Hello. My name’s Skylar. Do you want to be my friend?’”
I giggle, remembering myself on the playground with pigtails repeating those exact words in kindergarten. Who knew I’d still be needing that same script years later?
“You think you can handle that?” she asks with her manicured brow arched up high.
“Yeah, I can handle that.” I laugh half-heartedly, praying that I’m not lying to my sister.
“Good.” She grins, throwing me a wink before releasing her grip on my shoulders so we can continue on our merry way.
We endure more curious stares as we walk to the Admissions office, but thankfully no one else tries to talk to us.
When we walk inside, we come face to face with a lady sitting at a computer behind a long white counter with black granite on the top. She must be pushing sixty at least, but by the loud red dress she’s wearing, I don’t think age is something she’s too concerned about. She’s the very definition of a cougar if I’ve ever seen one. Not only is the dress she’s wearing a vibrant red that you almost need sunglasses to stare at it, but it’s also tight. And I mean tight. I can literally see her nipples from what I can only assume is a very expensive boob job, poking through the fabric. But I’m thankful that there’s fabric at all. Because the dress is so low cut that her nips are in danger of popping out if she takes too deep a breath. Her hair is dyed an almost fluorescent yellow, and she’s got so much makeup on, I bet if someone pressed on her face, their finger would push in at least an inch.
