by Ella Goode
There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes from his genuine smile. He doesn’t look away and neither do I. My pulse picks up as we stare at one another. Neither of us says a word. I’m not sure I’m even breathing.
His hand reaches up. “May I?”
I find myself nodding. A dimple forms on his left cheek, making his already handsome face dangerously gorgeous. He tucks a piece of my hair back into place, his fingers gently caressing my cheek. I close my eyes for a second, his touch lingering on my skin.
A slamming car door breaks me out of my trance. This time when I open my eyes I hope they look as if I’m trying to burn a hole directly into that handsome face of his. The last thing I need is for him to know I’m attracted to him. That his simple touch has done crazy shit to my insides. A crush is the last thing I need.
“I told you not to touch me,” I snap, which is irrational because I know he asked and I know I nodded, but I needed to get him to step back. I fold my arms across my chest and lift my chin, waiting for him to call me out.
“You did, didn’t you?” He gestures for me to move. “After you, then.”
I don’t like that he agreed with me. It’d be better if he thinks I’m a bitch and never wants another thing to do with me because I don’t have much of a defense against him. I need to move, though, because standing here next to him isn’t good for my nerves. I order my feet in motion and my body follows, heading toward the giant double glass doors set at the top of a wide, cement staircase. My phone dings from inside my bag. I dig in and pull it out, grateful for the distraction.
Mom: He’s handsome!
Oh God. Of course she is texting me about him. I steal a peek over my shoulder as I start to pull one of the doors open. Owen is still standing where I left him and he’s also still smiling, not fazed by my brush-off.
I jerk my head back around. Damn it. He saw me looking back at him. Why couldn’t I have played it cool and not looked back? My phone dings again.
Mom: Oh, you should invite him over for dinner. Obviously I’ll cook. LOL
I send back an angry face emoji, which gets me a kiss-blowing emoji back. I fire one back before putting my phone away and pulling out my schedule, which I have memorized already.
I have a few minutes before my first class. I already took a tour of the school last week. It’s super nice, even fancier than my boarding school, which surprises me because this school has kids from all walks of life. It’s entirely funded by some patents owned by the founder—Franklin somebody or other. Since I have time, I should probably just go to my first class and find a seat but I find myself stalled in the middle of the hallway for no good reason.
When a warm body comes up behind me, I know exactly what’s going on. When I was in the car earlier I’d been thinking of him and he materialized out of nowhere. Once again my thoughts have summoned him and his rude arm to my side. Even though my body enjoys having that arm around me, I wasn’t going to let him assume that he could do whatever he wants.
I turn my head around toward him and my eyes meet his amazing gaze. My demeanor instantly softens with his warm look and he’s still smiling at me.
“Why are you following me?”
“We have the same class, Ace.”
“Ace?” I lift an eyebrow at him. That’s the second time he’s called me that.
“You ever not ace something?” That smile fully comes back now. He looks almost proud of me. When it comes to school and most things, I do excel at them so the nickname fits. I put my everything into the things I do. My mom taught me that. Except cooking. I definitely do not ace that.
“How do you know I ace everything?” I challenge. This is only the second time we’ve ever met. It’s only the first we've ever talked. I was sure I’d never see him again after that day in the mall.
“I could say I just know everything but the truth is—” He leans down a little so his mouth is close to my ear. I should pull back but my body leans right back into him. “I asked. After I saw you at the mall, I did some research, found your name and your class schedule.”
“That’s creepy,” I declare but inside, in the back of my head, I’m thrilled. I hate myself.
“I told you about it, though. I think that takes some of the weird factor away. Besides, when I see something I want, I go for it, but I have a feeling you get that. Don’t you, Ace?” The way he says the nickname he’s given me is all too knowing. I have to fight myself from having a goofy grin on my face. So I go with changing the subject because I don’t know what to make of Owen.
“At my old school we had a board that showed club sign-ups and other random stuff the school had going on. Is there somewhere that displays that information here?” My attempt at redirecting our discussion seems to work.
“I plan to show you everything, Ace.” His long arm points down the hall. “Let me show you the way.”
I see a few people turn to look at us. I wonder if it’s because I’m new or if they are looking at Owen who, despite not touching me, is in my personal space. We probably look like a couple.
“There a certain club or activity you want to join? There’s a shit-ton here, but I don’t participate in any. Just football.” For the first time, he looks slightly unsure of himself.
That tiny bit of vulnerability speaks to me and some of my annoyance melts away. “I’m going to choose something else. I’m not really cut out for football,” I tease, peeking up at him under my lashes.
“It’s not all about being on the field. I bet you could come up with some killer plays for us. That’s all head stuff.”
I laugh at him coming up with a way for me to be involved. I don’t know much about football. Sometimes I’ll read on the sofa while Dad will have a game on. I’ve gone to a few games with him too. I’d be a liar if I didn't admit it can be fun to yell from the stands. I also knew it made my dad happy when I’d cheer along with him.
When we get to the board I scan it but nothing stands out. When I enrolled they’d already put me into science club, I should pick up another. My eyes fly past yearbook and prom club. I give culinary club a glance before landing on sewing. Now, that could be useful. I am good at it but I want to be better. I can’t become a surgeon without top-notch sewing skills.
I reach up and pull the tab off the sewing one. At least that’s out of the way and now I can go to my first class.
Owen grabs one too. “Sewing?” he asks as he pockets the small piece of paper into his jeans.
“Yeah. I need to sharpen my skills if I’m going to follow in my dad’s footsteps. I can’t be a surgeon if I’m unable to sew.” I shrug my shoulders. “There a reason you’re going to do sewing club?”
“Make my mom an apron or something. She loves crap like that. These hands can do other things besides catch a football.” Now he teases me. Him saying he wants to make his mom something only makes me like him more than I should. We’ve fallen into easy banter with one another. Too easy. It seems like we’ve known each other longer than we really have. Our shoulders rub together—or my shoulder rubs against his arm. He doesn’t move away and neither do I. I already regret telling him he couldn’t put his arm around me because it was a nice weight and warm. The air conditioning inside the school is making me chilly.
Conversation ends as we reach the classroom. I head for a desk toward the back of the room in keeping with my plan to blend in. Owen’s hand snakes out and pulls out a chair. It’s either sit down in it or crawl over. Not wanting to make a commotion, I sit down and Owen actually lifts the whole thing—me and the chair—off the ground and slides it out of the aisle and under the desk. I guess I hadn’t realized the muscles in his arms actually did something. My sex clenches between my legs. Fuck. A hot guy that can lift me up like this is doing bad things to my body.
He takes the seat directly beside me. I wish I’d worn my hair down today. My blush is probably on full display for everyone to see and I’m noticing people are looking.
I reach into my bag, getting my la
ptop out to take notes. I concentrate on facing forward and pray that this class will start soon. My mind is all over the place about Owen McCoy.
“Owen.”
“Yeah, Ace?”
I look over to him. He’s staring right at me, not trying to hide his clear interest. There is no game playing. He’s putting it all out there.
“I don’t date. My mind is on school.” For some reason I have to let him know that. Maybe I’m only reminding myself.
“Friends then. You do that, don’t you?”
I lick my dry lips. I don’t do anything but my traitorous mouth opens and says, “Yeah. Friends I can manage.”
He grabs my desk chair with his foot, hooking it to the bottom and pulling it and me closer to him a few inches. “Then we’re going to be best friends.” He holds his fist up. My eyes go there as I fight another smile. “Come on, Ace, don’t leave your best friend hanging.”
I reach out, bumping his fist and wondering how I’ll ever manage just being his friend.
Chapter Six
Owen
She’s smiling. That’s all that’s really important at this point. I can make her smile. Plus, we’re sitting next to each other and it’s clear to everyone in this classroom that has eyes that I’m claiming her. Already people are making a little bubble of space around her.
I wish I knew some of the girls so I could set up a good friend group for her. I try and think of the guys on the team who are dating. I haven’t really paid attention to the SOs in the group because that shit didn’t interest me before, but now that I’ve got Ace, I’m probably going to be hanging out with those guys more.
Don’t get me wrong. The other guys are the shit, but they’ve got girls crawling all over their dicks. Ace would not be down for that. And, frankly, neither am I. If another guy so much as breathes near her, my hands will turn into fists. For example, JJ Anderson has been staring at Ace about two seconds too long.
“Yo, Double J, eyes forward,” I bark.
JJ’s head turns toward me as if I yanked on a string. His eyes narrow. “Who the hell are you?”
I’ve been going to training camp with the guys since July so I’d forgotten I was a newbie here. I stretch my legs out and plant an arm across the back of Ace’s chair.
“The guy who’s bringing home your championship trophy, that’s who.” I arch an eyebrow at him. According to the class yearbook that I memorized in my downtime, JJ is on the crew team, which means he has good upper body strength but probably skips leg day. In any event, I can take him. I’m not worried.
“Football,” JJ snorts. “Like anyone here cares about that shit.”
“I care,” says a soft voice at the front.
JJ’s head spins again. We all look up to see Carter, leaning against the teacher’s desk like he owns the classroom. Probably does, since his name’s on the building.
“I got this,” I tell him. I don’t need the quarterback following me around and fighting my battles for me. New kids have to establish their own space. I did that the first day I came to practice. I picked a fight with the biggest dude there and took him to the ground. Me and Higgsy are buds now. He knew what I was doing and was impressed I had the moves to down him. I couldn’t keep him there for long. The dude weighs 320, but it was enough that I took him on. This situation isn’t comparable. JJ is a runt, but he’s talking like he’s a big man and so he’ll either back up his words or get his ass kicked.
“Yeah, okay.” Carter takes a seat, putting his back to all of us.
JJ, because he doesn’t use the braincells God gave him, assumes that I’m free game. He gets out of his chair and strolls over to Ace’s desk.
“Yo, pretty girl. Since you’re new here, let me tell you some of the rules. Every new girl has to suck a senior’s dick. Good thing I’m here for you.”
I’m out of my chair and about ready to vault over the desks when Ace’s fist shoots out and decks JJ right in the balls.
“F-f-fuck you, bitch,” he gasps out as he folds in half from the pain.
“I thought you told me to deck a senior’s dick. Did I hear that wrong?” she asks, all innocent. The room fills with snickers. A girl two seats up from Ace says, “Nope. I heard the same thing.”
Several other girls nod their heads and chime in their own agreement. I walk around the desk and grab JJ by the collar. He stumbles to his feet, red-faced, with his hands cupped protectively around his junk.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he says, but it comes out like a baby’s cry and so the classroom only laughs harder. I march him out of the room.
“Get some ice and cool down,” I order and then slam the door shut.
I walk back to Ace and crouch down beside her desk. “You need anything?” Her knuckles are red.
“No.” She talks a good game, but her hand trembles as she turns to a clean page in her notebook.
“All right, but I’m giving you advance warning. I’m not going to let you out of my sight today, which means you’re going to have to come to football practice with me or I won’t be able to do my job.”
“I can’t,” she reminds me. “I have sewing club.”
“Yeah, after football practice.”
I swing into my chair, wishing we had bench seating or some shit so I didn’t have all this space between me and Ace. I inch my desk closer to her. She doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“The signup sheet said that the sewing club meets after class,” she insists.
I tap the desk so she’ll look at me. I can tell she’s shaken up, but she’s pretending that she’s not. I wasn’t lying when I said that I was going to need to keep my eyes on her at all times so this sewing club thing we’re doing is just going to have to be at another time. I’ll talk to Carter. I know he can arrange that. For now, I just have to let Ace know she’s not alone but in a way that doesn’t make her think I’m trying to usurp her autonomy.
“You really going to keep me out of the sewing club and make my mom cry? I mean, she didn’t cry when Peter Parker died in Infinity War so you know she’s got nerves of steel, but this? This would devastate her.”
Ace’s pretty mouth purses into a circle as she tries to keep herself from laughing. “You sound melodramatic.”
“Sometimes truth hits you hard in the heart.” I punch my left pec a couple times.
“I don’t even run the club,” she says and that’s when I know I’ve got her.
“Don’t worry about that. Just make sure you come to practice. I’ll swing by your class at 2:45.”
“You don’t even know—” She cuts herself off.
The corners of my mouth quirk up. “Yeah. I’ve got your schedule.”
“I just remembered,” she snips. Her cute chin goes up. I’d like to pinch it but I stupidly promised not to touch her without asking permission first. I’ll have to get some kind of blanket consent but she’s not going to give it right now. Besides, her making me ask for the okay before touching her is kind of kinky. There are things I can do with that. I smile to myself.
“What’s that grin for?” she asks suspiciously.
“You don’t even want to know.” I wink.
Chapter Seven
Alice
I doodle circles in my notepad waiting for class to be over. Mr. Barker gave out a syllabus for the semester and I was way ahead already. I’ve been a little worried that I could be behind with this being a new school and all. This last year of high school might be easier than I thought it was going to be. There are only a few minutes of class left and I wonder if Owen is going to be waiting for me. He said he would but do I wait for him? I’m sure it will take a few minutes for him to get from his class to mine.
I was disappointed when I realized we don’t have the same last class together. He’s been at my side all day. It has made my day easier and I was starting to feel like a jerk for how I acted when he put his arm around me this morning. I am still leery about how nice he is being to me but I am going to give him the benefi
t of the doubt. Everything he has done so far seems genuine besides his vow of only friendship between us. I know that was a façade but I am going to go with it. There is no denying our physical attraction to one another but my focus has to stay on my studies. I’m glad he agreed to pretend that we would only remain friends.
That stupid asshole JJ made me feel uneasy. I still can’t believe I punched him right in the dick. He had it coming but he could have tried to hit me back. I think subconsciously I knew Owen wouldn't let it happen. I also knew I had to stand up for myself. JJ was a reminder of why I don't date but Owen keeps making me second-guess that rule. He is too handsome and sweet to me for my own good. All day he’s stuck to my side. At lunch he tried to give me all of the food on his plate. He repeatedly asked me if I wanted more of everything.
Throughout the day I’ve gotten to know Owen a little more with each class we have together. We’ve mastered the art of small talk while learning little tidbits about one another. I was surprised to discover that he is new to this school too. The way he interacted with everyone made it seem as if he had been here for years. He has an air about him that demands respect. He is confident without being cocky. I don’t know how he pulls it off but he makes it work.
My eyes drift down to where I’m doodling circles to see I’ve written his name out. “Oh my God,” I mutter to myself, slamming my notebook closed. I did not just do that.
“Hey, you want to partner up?” the girl next to me asks. The same one who took my side this morning. The teacher said we’d need to pick a partner by the end of the week. I was going to feel everyone out and see if I clicked with anyone. I hoped that way it would be easier to pick someone. I learned her name is Melody when the teacher did roll call. She looks artsy with her blonde hair colored in blues, purples and teals. She’s hip without even trying to be. She exudes it. I could never pull that off. “I’m going to be straight with you, I suck at anatomy and physiology but it’s a required class for the college I’m applying to.” This isn't only anatomy and physiology. It’s AP Anatomy and Physiology II.
