by Coralee June
Decker swallowed. “I can always tutor her. We are living under the same roof, after all.”
Lance’s eyes flickered between us as he coughed. “Right. Well, I’m sure she wants to keep things as separate as possible. Can’t be easy being the new girl when your teacher is your roommate,” my brother replied.
“Right,” Decker replied. “I won’t be your roommate much longer anyways. The house is ahead of schedule.”
“Right,” I echoed.
“Oh! I have something for you,” Lance exclaimed at me before fleeing the room. I heard his bedroom door slam shut and shuffling in his room.
Decker mumbled something resembling, “He’s way too hyper in the mornings,” before taking a sip of his scalding coffee. Steam kissed his skin, where I wished my lips were.
“I hope he hurries. I need to leave soon to stop at the front desk and pick up my schedule,” I said before taking another sip of my brew.
Decker glanced at the clock. “We don’t have to be there for at least thirty minutes, and I haven’t even eaten yet,” he groaned.
“Oh…” I began while standing up to take my plate to the sink. I felt every nerve ending in my body light up with energy, and it wasn’t until I turned back to face the table that I realized Decker was staring at me with his mouth hanging open.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Harris?”
“No. Nothing is wrong. Why are you wearing knee-high stilettos to school? Your feet will be killing you by the end of the day,” he said before sweeping his gaze up and down my legs. Grunting, he turned his eyes to a particularly dull spot on the wall, as if forcing himself to look away.
“I like wearing heels. Gives my power stance that extra oomph. Rose suggested it,” I replied with a wink, though he was so busy staring at the wall that he didn’t see it. I wanted to tell him that these shoes made it easier to hide my knife, but I refrained.
“I bet you one truth that you fall on your face before the end of the day,” Decker challenged.
“I thought we weren’t doing truths anymore,” I whispered back, and the room fell utterly silent at my statement. I couldn’t even hear Decker’s raspy breathing or the traffic outside. Decker’s eyes sliced back at me, and I felt like a giant bubble of gum that had just popped. All the air deflated out of me at the pained look in his eyes.
“Maybe,” he began before looking at Lance’s bedroom door and back at me. “We can keep the truths?” His offer was nothing but a whisper, but I felt the echo of his plea like it was a shout directly in my ear.
“I guess I’ll have to fall, first.”
Decker smiled. “You will. Maybe I should let you walk to school to up my chances, hmm?”
“I’d prefer to drive myself, by the way.”
“In Roxy? I doubt she’ll make the ten-minute drive. Why?” Decker asked.
“Lance has a point. I don’t want other students knowing that we live together. I’m hoping to stay invisible at this school, and arriving with my ultra hot biology teacher is bound to start some rumors.”
“You think I’m ultra hot?” His question was paired with a smirk, and I realized my mistake.
“You know you are. This isn’t news, Mr. Harris.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked.
“Just testing it out, feeling the roll of it on my tongue.” Said tongue rolled out to taste my bottom lip, earning a nearly inaudible moan from Decker.
Lance’s door opened, ending our little battle of banter. I turned my attention to my brother and plastered a smile on my face. “Here you go, Blakely!” he said excitedly before handing me a haphazardly wrapped package. I took it from his outstretched hands and stared at the pink wrapping paper with uncertainty as Lance bounced on the balls of his feet.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s like you’ve never seen a present before! Open it!” Lance instructed. I knew his words were meant to be teasing, but he had no idea how true it was. Mama didn’t get me gifts, didn’t think far outside of her own selfish needs. I’d had presents before; I wasn’t completely neglected. But it was always last-minute, clearance rack clothes in her size instead of mine.
I tore through the paper and gasped at what I saw inside. It was a brand-new leather messenger bag with a designer label I didn’t recognize but knew probably cost a small fortune. “Lance, you didn’t have—”
“You needed a bag for all those books you’ll be carrying. Figured you should go in style, okay?”
“It’s too much.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re too nice to me,” I choked out, relentless emotions bubbling up within me as I tried to swipe at the moisture brimming in my eyes. I didn’t want to sound pathetic, but thoughtful gestures were a foreign concept to me.
Lance walked forward and wrapped me up in an awkward hug, my new bag held between us. “Knock ’em dead today! If anyone gives you trouble, text me or Deck—Mr. Harris, okay?” he said with a laugh.
“Okay,” I replied before stepping away. I was about to go to my room and load up my new backpack when I caught Decker’s expression looking back at me. It was a mix of protectiveness and awe. I nearly fell over myself at the sight.
“We’ll leave in thirty minutes,” he choked out once he realized I was staring. Stupid, stupid girl. Lance was standing right there as I ogled Decker. I needed to get this shit locked down. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore; I just needed out of the kitchen.
“Okay,” I replied before disappearing into my room. I quickly dumped out my old backpack with patches on the fabric and stains on the straps, wondering how I went from being the girl with all she owned on her back to being this.
Decker compromised by dropping me off a block away from MAMS, smirking at my heels as he pulled away. Little did he know, I preferred the stilts. I was my mother’s daughter, after all. I had every intention of winning this bet. I had to keep my truths close if I wanted to keep the boundary between us clear.
I walked up to the front steps of the large school as students loitered around the front lawn, catching up and laughing with one another. Everyone seemed sectioned off in groups and oblivious to me. The coiled venom in my chest relaxed a bit when I realized no one was paying the new girl any attention.
Yes. Just how I liked it.
Maybe my past, coupled with every television show or book I’d ever read, had conditioned me to believe that the new girl at a new high school would be the center of attention, but I was surprised that not a single soul noticed me.
The only person to even recognize that I was there was the front desk secretary who handed me my schedule. “Oh, you’re the one Mr. Harris kept telling us about,” she said with a sad expression while picking through pieces of paper on her desk. “I have your schedule right here, and everyone has high hopes for you.”
Something about her statement felt off. Maybe it was the sad look in her eyes or the way she gave me a sympathetic smile. Something told me that she knew more about my life than I wanted her to, and that pissed me off. Determined not to let it ruin my day, I took my schedule with a polite smile and went into the hallway.
I liked that they didn’t offer to show me around, nor did they assign a student to teach me the ropes. I guess they operated under the assumption that everyone was smart enough to figure out a map, and I liked it. Decker said that MAMS was more of a college preparatory than anything else, and he was right. In the halls, students looked over their brand new textbooks excitedly while comparing schedules. There was an eagerness in everyone’s energy, almost as if they were just as excited to start class as I was.
Even though I joked with Lance about mourning the loss of summer, I was happy to be here. And with each tick of the clock, my new school jitters disappeared. I could do this. I was going to blend in and get my shit done.
My confident stride, bolstered by the invisible shield wrapped around me by the other students’ self-absorbtion felt good. My feet burned in a way that mad
e me smile as I found my locker.
Spinning the lock combination, I set my things inside before slamming the door shut. Pulling out my schedule, I checked where my first class was while walking down the hall, feeling invigorated and excited.
But then I had to fuck it up.
In a cliche move, I bumped into a tall hunk of muscle, making the heel of my boot slip on the tile. Strong hands wrapped around my wrists, steadying me before I could fall, and I looked up into the grayest eyes I’d ever seen, coupled with a smirk that could give even Decker a run for his money.
“Whoa, you okay?” his honey-like voice asked, and I feigned disorientation to get a good look at him. He had sweeping chestnut hair and high cheekbones, with a dimpled chin. This guy was classically handsome.
“I-I’m okay, but this has to be a secret,” I teased before looking around. A few students were staring, but most of the students were too absorbed in their phones to care.
“A secret, huh? Why’s that?” His voice was teasing. I saw the interest brimming in his gray eyes. It wasn’t predatory, the way he swept across my appearance like a visual caress, but it made my skin hum all the same.
“I made a bet with someone that I could walk in heels all day. If he finds out I nearly fell on my ass, then I’ll lose the bet.” Was I flirting? Yes. Yes, I was. Why? I had no idea.
The last year had been spent taking care of Mama and picking up extra shifts, and I hadn’t had the time to see farther than the fucked up shit going on in my life. Decker was honestly the first person I’d kissed in months, and I was wondering if this guy could be my second.
“Oh, we definitely can’t let him know,” the stranger said with a grin. “How about I walk you to class so we can make sure you don’t run into any other innocent pedestrians again?” he offered before removing his hands from my wrists. I hadn’t even noticed that he was still holding me. “Unless the guy is here and will beat my ass for walking his girl.”
I snorted. Decker probably would kick his ass. That is, if he gave a shit about me or if I wasn’t his student and his best friend’s little sister. “Nah. I’m no one’s girl. Too clumsy. Boys these days don’t like a damsel in distress,” I teased.
“Good thing I’m a man, then, huh?” he replied cheekily before stretching out his hand to shake in greeting. “I’m Max, by the way.”
“Short for Maximillian?” I asked. He seemed like the type to have a long name too complex for his personality.
“Yep, but I only let pretty, clumsy girls call me that,” he replied with a blush. I’d admit, that line was good, everything about this guy seemed almost too good. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you if you get me to…” I picked up my schedule once more to check what my first class of the day was. “Calculus with Mr. Torres safely.”
“I’m in that class, too. Senior?”
“Yup,” I replied, popping the last syllable.
“Are you new? I haven’t seen you before,” he noted before dragging his eyes up and down my body again. His eyes lingered on my boots and the thin slice of skin between my plaid skirt and the leather.
“Just moved here from Texas,” I replied with a half-hearted smile. I didn’t want to talk about my past. Today was about starting a new adventure, with new friends and new memories. I wasn’t the sad little trailer trash girl anymore.
“Never been there, but I hear it’s nice,” he replied conversationally. We walked down the hallway, him guiding me through the traffic of students. The further we walked, the more I noticed other students staring at us—well—more importantly, staring at him. Whoever Maximillian was, he was a big deal and completely contradicted my plan to stay under the radar.
“Blakely!” a gruff voice called from down the hall, and my entire spine went rigid. Shit. I thought we had an agreement not to approach each other at school aside from the one class I had with him? Maximillian gave me a curious stare.
Letting out a shaky breath, I turned around to stare down the hallway, where Decker—I mean Mr. Harris—was walking toward me. “First day at school and already pissing off Mr. Harris? That must be some record,” Maximillian joked. Little did he know, I’d pissed him off a good couple of weeks before school even started.
“Yes, Mr. Harris?” I called out through gritted teeth, noting that every girl in the hallway was staring lustfully at him. And who could blame them? That suit should be against the dress code. He was far too distracting.
“You left this in my car. You’ll need it for class, yes?” he asked while giving Maximillian a cold stare that I half expected to turn my new and only friend to ice. Decker then handed me my pencil pouch. It must have fallen out of my messenger bag.
“Thanks,” I whispered before taking it from him, throwing it in my bag as I begged him to leave with my eyes.
“Going to Calculus? You’re going to be late,” he noted before glancing at his watch.
“We were just headed there,” I replied through gritted teeth.
Decker gave Maximillian another look before nodding. “Have fun. I’ll see you in class. Oh, and do you mind if we make a pit stop at the office supply store on the way home? I need some more binders.”
I could have punched him. I could have raised a fist and hit him right in the jaw and gotten expelled right then and there.
“I was planning on walking,” I replied, fuming. The crowded hallways were starting to thin, but a few stayed behind to gawk.
“In those heels? It looks like I’ll be winning my bet after all,” Decker replied in a softer voice, but Maximillian heard it. Great. Just great.
“We have to go, Mr. Harris. See you in Bio!” Maximillian interrupted before grabbing my arm and tugging me down the hallway. God bless him. If he didn’t run for the hills after this little dash of crazy, then I was definitely promoting him to best friend.
We stopped at a classroom door, and my walking companion grinned at me. “Made it here in one piece, Blakely. And with time to spare.”
“And you didn’t even ask what that was about,” I added with an awkward grin. “I’m impressed.”
“Not yet,” he replied before opening the door, allowing me to enter first. I almost wished he wasn’t such a gentleman so I could have hidden behind his towering frame as I found a seat. The classroom erupted in murmurs, and I felt eyes on my back as I found an empty seat in the last row.
So much for being invisible.
“Miss Stewart, can you please come up here?” Mr. Torres asked, making my skin crawl. Was I in the wrong place? Did I mess up already?
Mr. Torres guided me out into the hallway with a kind smile while giving a lingering student outside in the hall the stink eye before drawing his attention to me. Mr. Torres had kind amber eyes and black hair with blond highlights. His smooth brown skin and short stature put us at eye level.
“I just wanted to welcome you to MAMS and let you know that if you need anything—anything at all—the faculty and staff will support you during this transition. I can’t imagine the pain of your loss, but we’re family here, and we will help you any way we can, okay?”
I swallowed the sand-paper emotions billowing up my chest and rubbing along my throat.
Decker had told them.
I’d wanted to run away from Mama’s memory, but it looked like this school wouldn’t grant me the fresh start I craved.
But I responded the way I was supposed to, the way everyone expected me to. “Thank you, Mr. Torres,” I whispered as emotion threatened to slice through my chest and bleed me out. He smiled, probably assuming that my inability to choke out words had more to do with grief than shame.
We went back into the silent classroom with eyes on my back and a rumor to my name. As I sat down, I envisioned ruining Decker Harris.
How dare he tell my truths.
12
Decker
Fucking Max Hemsworth with his fucking smile and his fucking cocky walk. Fuck. He walked her to my class. My fucking class.
&
nbsp; I actually liked the kid. He was nice enough, got good grades last year, and even placed second in the annual science fair. But he had officially made my shit list.
“We have assigned seats this year,” I announced lamely as students filtered in. Blakely looked anxious as hell, refusing to meet my eyes as she shuffled into the classroom. I didn’t like that I made her uncomfortable.
I knew that I shouldn’t have stopped her in the hall. Lance and I were supposed to have an understanding. Blakely and I had agreed it would be better. I could have easily dropped off her pencil case with Mr. Torres and been done with it, but I wanted to stop her in the hall. I wanted fucking Maximillian Fucking Hemsworth to know that…
What did I want him to know? Fuck. Get your shit together, Decker.
“Assigned seats?” Taylor, a particularly meddlesome student, asked. “We didn’t have them last year.”
“It’s a new year, Taylor. Adapt. Overcome.” The assigned seat decision was last-minute. I decided the exact moment I realized Max and Blakely were in the same class. I’d be damned if I had to teach while watching them sit and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. I might not have a claim on her, but he sure as hell wouldn’t either. Not if I had any say.
My new seating plan also forced Blakely to sit front and center, something I wasn’t sure my dick liked or not, considering how she filled out her school uniform. It took everyone a minute to find their seats, and I leaned against the wall, arms crossed over my chest as I greeted some of the annoyingly flirtatious girls in my class and nodded at the guys.
Since it was a small school, I taught juniors and seniors, which meant I got to be their teacher both years of their enrollment. Against my better judgment, my eyes went back to Blakely. Something was seriously wrong with her. Her eyes were downcast, her face was pale. Did someone mess with her? If they did, they’d have to answer to me.
The surprising surge of protectiveness that filled my chest made me uneasy. Blakely was right, this had to become nothing, or it would become something I couldn’t control. I didn’t do chaos.
