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Now all I can do is shrug at Peebles when she stares hard at me, like I might’ve sprouted a second head.
“She’s currently beating you, yes. What’s going on? Are your classes going well? Or are you struggling?”
My counselor’s fake concern almost makes me roll my eyes. It’s not that I think Peebles is a straight-up liar. I just know she doesn’t worry about me in the normal context. Hell, she doesn’t worry about any of us at this school. We’re all guaranteed a more than decent future as long as we don’t fuck anything up.
Daisy though? She’s working hard and striving and fucking thriving, that girl. She deserves to be number one.
Okay, clearly I’ve lost my mind because I’m willingly rooting for the girl who’s taken over my spot at the head of the class.
The girl who I can’t stop thinking about.
“I’m not struggling,” I tell Mrs. Peebles when I realize she’s waiting for my answer. “I just—”
“I know it’s tough. Senior year and you want to be free. You’ve been saying that for a while.” Peebles’ expression is full of understanding and I think of all the times I’ve gone to her before. When I demanded she talk to my parents and tell them how I should have already graduated. That I don’t need to be here.
I can’t imagine leaving now. Leaving Daisy.
That is the last thing I want to do.
“I’m cool with it,” I tell her, sitting forward in my chair. “I should live it up my senior year, right? My last chance at a life with zero responsibilities.”
The look she gives me tells me she knows I could most likely live the rest of my life with zero responsibilities. Or at least that’s what she thinks. It’s what everyone thinks.
The pressure my parents put on me has ramped up lately. They want to know what my plans are for after I graduate. When I tell them I want to take a gap year, that answer isn’t good enough for them. They both want me to go to college, but damn.
That sounds like a trap. Another four years in an institution like this?
No thank you.
“I’m happy to hear you’ve reconciled with the fact that you’re here for the rest of the school year. It’s not such a bad place to be, you know.” She smiles and I nod, already distracted. I’m missing first period, meeting with Peebles, and I want to get back to English. Not that I’m interested in listening to Winston drone on like he usually does in another boring lecture.
I want to sit behind Daisy and play with her hair. Breathe in her sweet scent. Does anyone notice me? Notice us? I’ve always been flirtatious. This isn’t new behavior for me, but I’ve never been so fixated on one girl in particular before.
That’s new. And that might be drawing attention.
JJ was pissed I ditched out on Cadence’s party the night of Daisy’s birthday, but he eventually got over it. He never holds a grudge for too long.
Cadence and Mya though? Those chicks avoid us. Me in particular, which I prefer. Though if looks could kill, the evil glares Cadence sends my way would slay me dead.
Still don’t feel bad though. Our relationship is history. The past.
“Anything else you want to talk about?” I ask Peebles, my knee bouncing with impatience.
“Have you considered what colleges you want to apply to yet?” Mrs. Peebles asks, her voice extra cheerful. She knows this is a touchy subject for me.
“Nah.”
“You should.” Her response is quick. “If you start applying now, you could get accepted on early admission at certain universities.”
“Uh huh.” I nod, tapping my knee with my fingers, checking the clock on the wall right above Peebles’ head.
I need to get out of here. First period is over soon and I don’t want to miss even a minute of second period. Where Daisy and I are in the office and Viv mostly leaves us alone so we can flirt and talk and I can openly watch Daze blush when I murmur something inappropriate to her.
“Think about it.” She drops a pile of brochures on her desk, nudging them closer to me with her fingers. “I believe you could get into any of these colleges.”
They’re all Ivy League schools and I can’t help the chuckle that slips out. “My dad can buy my admission to any of those places.”
“I know, but wouldn’t it be great to get in on your own merits?” Peebles’ smile is serene as she folds her hands together, resting them on top of her desk. “Have you ever stood on your own, Arch? Or do you always get by on the Lancaster name?”
