Jaybird

by M. A. Foster

  A minute later, Bass dances his way into my room. Of course, he doesn’t jump on my bed because his big ass would break it. Mom leaps onto his back and they dance their way out of my room.

  Freaks.

  I groan as I toss the covers back.

  I feel like crap.

  I tossed and turned the entire night because I kept feeling like I had bugs crawling all over me. I shudder at the thought. And I haven’t forgotten about them all laughing. I mean, come on. It was a flying roach. That’s just freaking gross. The only upside to the bug attack was that I forgot about starting my first day of high school.

  Until now.

  I’m not particularly shy, but I’m out of my element here, my comfort zone. But I’m also nervous and excited to see the work of the Mayhem Foundation.

  The school uniforms are the basic navy and green plaid skirt, white oxford, a tapered navy blue blazer—which is only required during the cooler months or special assemblies—navy knee socks and navy spanks bottoms, like the cheerleaders wear under their skirts.

  Fridays are spirit days, which means we can wear whatever we want if it’s within the dress code.

  Dressed in my uniform, I slip my feet into a pair of navy Tory Burch ballet flats and make my way into the bathroom. I keep my makeup minimal, brushing on a coat of mascara and swiping on nude lip gloss. My hair is pulled up into a high ponytail and I finish off with diamond stud earrings and necklace, my watch, and my diamond “Love” bracelet, which never comes off.

  MOM IS AT the counter drinking coffee and looking at her phone. Grace is at the stove, swaying her hips to Shawn Mendes’ “Stitches.”

  “Look at my girl, Grace,” Mom says as I walk into the kitchen. “Doesn’t she look adorable in her uniform.”

  Grace turns away from the stove to take in my attire. I give her a little twirl. “Good morning, Grace.”

  “Hermosa,” she says with an affectionate smile. Grace speaks fluent English, but every so often when she gets excited she busts out the Spanish.

  I drop a kiss to her cheek as I take a coffee mug from the cabinet. I’m not one of those people who needs coffee to function, but after the night I had, I’m going to need the caffeine today.

  “Are you ready for your first day of school?” Grace asks excitedly.

  “I’m nervous about school, but I’m really excited to see the new Project Mayhem building.” I lean back against the counter, gripping my coffee with both hands.

  “It’s called the performing arts building,” Mom corrects me.

  Meghan Trainor’s “All About That Bass” starts playing and right on cue Bass slides into the kitchen and starts breaking it down. I snort and almost choke on my hot coffee. Morning dance parties used to be the norm for us back in California, before my dad’s health took a turn for the worse.

  “B, can you believe our girl is going off to school?” Mom asks.

  “Good morning, Princess.” Bass kisses the top of my head as he reaches past me for a coffee mug.

  I roll my eyes and move over to the island. “You guys act like this is my first day of kindergarten or something.”

  “No, but it’s still a big deal. For you and for me.”

  “And me,” Bass says, turning to lean against the counter.

  “Me, too,” Grace chimes in as she sets our breakfast platters in the middle of the island.

  I grab a plate and load it up with bacon and blueberry pancakes. Mmm.

  “It’s going to feel weird not having you around for seven hours a day.” She scrunches her nose, almost as if she hadn’t thought this through. “I’m gonna miss my little girl.” She pushes out her bottom lip.

  I swear, if she starts crying I’m gonna whip one of these pancakes at her head.

  “Are the skirts supposed to be that short?” Bass asks, eyeing my skirt over his mug.

  I roll my eyes and stuff a pancake in my mouth as I move over to the barstool.

  “That’s the uniform, B. She’s just got long legs.”

  “Besides, I’m wearing these.” I stand up and lift my skirt to show him the spanks.

  “Jayla!” Mom laughs as Bass sputters and covers his eyes.

  “Chill, B. These things cover more than my bikini bottoms, and probably my running shorts. These are what the cheerleaders wear under their skirts.”

  Bass shakes his head and looks down at his watch. “We need to get going, Princess. You’re supposed to meet Principal Avery at seven thirty.”

  I look down at my watch. Seven fifteen. “Crap. I’ll meet you in the car.” I stuff one last pancake in my mouth and grab a strip of bacon on my way out of the kitchen before heading back upstairs to brush my teeth and grab my bag.

  Climbing into the passenger seat, I pull on my seat belt and search for a decent radio station as Bass backs the Denali out of the garage and eases down the driveway. The Calling’s “Wherever You Will Go” is playing on one of the local Top Forty stations, bringing an instant smile to my face. I glance sideways at Bass to see him pressing the volume button on the steering wheel. My dad loved this song; he performed a cover on the new Jaybird album.

  “I was thinking we could go car shopping after school,” Bass suggests.

  “Is this your way of apologizing for laughing at me last night, after I was attacked by that vicious, flying beast?”

  Bass guffaws. “I’ve never seen you run so fast.”

  I twist my lips to the side to hide my smile. “How about I make it easy on both of us? I liked driving dad’s Range Rover, so if you can find me one in white, fully loaded, with a good radio, I’ll be a happy girl. I don’t care about rims and all that. I’ll leave that up to you.”

  “Well, that was easy. I’ll make some calls.”

  BASS DROPS ME off in front of Heritage Bay Academy. It’s a two-story, red brick building lined with windows across the front. The only way in is through the double doors which lead to the office.

  “Do you want me to walk you in?” he asks.

  I breathe out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Bass arches a brow telling me he’s not kidding and I laugh again. “No, I don’t want you to walk me in, B. I told you, this isn’t kindergarten.” I lean over the console and kiss him on the cheek, before grabbing the door handle. “I’ll be fine. See you this afternoon. Love you. Mean it.” I hop out of the Denali and pull my bag over my shoulder. Shutting the door, I turn and head for the office.

  Principal Avery asked that I arrive early enough to pick up my schedule and parking sticker and to give me a quick tour of the new performing arts building.

  I walk into the office and see a petite middle-aged woman, with a short blonde bob, seated behind a desk on the opposite side of the counter. Patty Avery is engraved on the brass nameplate situated in the center of her desk.

  “Good morning,” I greet her with a smile. “I’m Jayla Ki—Mackenzie. I’m supposed to meet with Principal Avery this morning.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Jayla,” she coos, pushing back her chair to stand. “Come on in.” She waves me in through the open space of the counter. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She extends her hand to me. “I’m Patty Avery, Principal Avery’s wife, but everyone calls me Mrs. Patty.” She cups her free hand over our joined ones. “I’ve heard so much about you from your grandparents. I feel like I already know you. I don’t think there’s a picture of you that I haven’t seen since the day you were born. I’m surprised Ella didn’t throw a parade when you arrived in town.”

  I laugh lightly. She’s sweet.

  “I’ll let David know you’re here.”

  “I can hear you, Patty,” a male voice calls out from the office just behind her desk. “Show her in.”

  Principal Avery stands up from behind his desk and smiles, extending his hand to me. “Good morning, Jayla, I’m David Avery, but everyone calls me Principal Avery,” he jokes, repeating Mrs. Patty’s words. I laugh quietly. “As Patty said, it’s nice to finally meet you. Please have a seat.” He
gestures to one of the two leather chairs positioned in front of his desk.

  “I understand you were homeschooled,” he states, clasping his hands together and resting them on top of his desk.

  “Yes, sir. My mom homeschooled me.”

  “Well, you had a good teacher. Emerson was one of my brightest students. Class president, head cheerleader, senior planning committee, and anything else she could squeeze into her schedule. Emerson was a smart girl.” He chuckles again.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “So, are you ready to see the new performing arts building where Project Mayhem will come to life?” he asks, standing from behind his desk and moving toward the door. I give Principal Avery an enthusiastic nod and follow him out of his office to the new building.

  “As you probably already know, this year we’ll start off with a smaller class of ten students including yourself, in addition to the existing students in the marching band,” he explains as we make our way inside. “The cheerleading team falls under our sports department, but the dance team will also fall under the umbrella of the performing arts. We hired two additional, extremely qualified music and performance instructors who come highly recommended.” He winks.

  The performing arts building is located at the back of the school next to the gym. Inside the two-story building is a small common area with hallway on each side and two sets of double doors straight ahead, which lead to an auditorium. One of the classrooms, on the bottom floor, is designed for the dance team, with two of the four walls covered in mirrors, and a locker room at the far end. Another room houses the band instruments with an adjoining room for practice. On the second floor, there are classrooms designated for the drama club, an art studio, and a darkroom for photography.

  “I wish my dad were here to see this,” I admit.

  Principal Avery leads me back down to the auditorium to another set of doors. “I was saving the best room for last.” He opens the door and swings his hand, gesturing for me to step inside. “Welcome to Project Mayhem.”

  “YOU’RE KIDDING ME, right?”

  “You can call me Mr. Alex.” Alex smirks. “We’re not that formal around here.”

  Alex is my new teacher. Highly recommended, my ass. This has Marcus King written all over it.

  Principal Avery chuckles. “I’ll leave you two to go over the specifics. If you need anything, Jayla, just come to the office. Welcome to Heritage Bay Academy. Enjoy your first day.” He nods and leaves.

  I turn to Alex. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

  He laughs. “I wanted to surprise you. I knew you’d probably be a little nervous about your first day, so… surprise!” He makes a surprised face, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers. I burst out laughing because that was so not an Alex move. I can’t wait to tell Evangeline that one.

  This is going to be an interesting class.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against one of the desks in the front row and ask, “Did my dad set this up?”

  Alex lifts his shoulders. “He might have put in a good word for me, but I still had to apply for the job, interview, and go through the same hiring process as all of the other teachers.”

  “Won’t it be weird being my teacher? We’re practically family. And with us going on tour next year?”

  Alex laughs. “We both know you don’t need a teacher. Marcus was the best teacher to both of us and Principal Avery knows that too, but you should still be here. Look at it is this way. The Mayhem Foundation was Marcus’s baby, and Project Mayhem is yours. Think of it as hands-on research. You get a front row seat to see how this program works and what doesn’t. You’ll be working alongside your peers, working with true raw talent, and that’s the best kind. You might even find a few diamonds in the rough. Just remember that when we’re in here, I’m the instructor, so lead by example. This is win-win for both of us.”

  “Fair enough.” I shrug.

  Alex smirks. “You’re going to give me shit, aren’t you?”

  I laugh. “Nope. I’m going to be teacher’s pet, Mr. Alex.”

  He huffs out a laugh. “Welcome to Project Mayhem, Miss Mackenzie.”

  “PSSST. ZACH,” DEREK douchebag whispers loudly from two seats over. Derek is one of my teammates and he gossips more than a girl.

  Tipping my chair back on two legs, I look over at him. “What?”

  “Lindsay Miller?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “You hit that?”

  See?

  I shake my head and my attention falls on the girl sitting between us—Kali, a cheerleader, I think—who is looking at me with raised brows.

  I frown. “What?”

  She winces. “Nothing,” she says softly before picking up her backpack and moving to the empty seat in front of me.

  I’m an asshole.

  “Hey,” I say, and she glances at me over her shoulder. “Kali, right?”

  “Yeah,” she replies before turning in her seat to face me. “I wasn’t trying to be nosey, but it’s kind of hard to mind my own business when you two are talking over me.”

  “Sorry.” I shrug.

  “No worries.” She smiles sheepishly and turns back around in her seat.

  “Bro, how about Mackenzie’s cousin?” Derek continues, shaking his head. “That girl is fine as fuuuck,” he drawls. “Mackenzie threatened my balls if I didn’t stay away from her.”

  I laugh under my breath. If Cole hadn’t threatened his balls, I would’ve.

  Dex chuckles. “She’s pretty. Got a nice ass and titties, but she’s too skinny for me.”

  “You mean she’s too skinny for your big ass,” Derek says and Dex flips him off.

  Mr. Baxter breezes through the door carrying a briefcase in one hand and a Starbucks in the other. “Good morning,” he greets us, taking seat behind his desk. “Welcome back. I hope everyone had a nice summer. I expect the announcements will be exceptionally long this morning. Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable, but not too comfortable. I don’t want any snoring, or drool on my desks.”

  “I’M STARVING,” COLE says as he sets his tray down on the table and straddles the chair beside me.

  “You’re always starving,” Carter states.

  “True,” Cole agrees, twisting off the cap of his sports drink. “Has anyone seen Jay today?”

  “No,” we all say as Evan takes the open seat beside Brad.

  “She’s the hot topic of the day,” Evan tells us as he unwraps his sandwich. “Did you seriously threaten every guy in school to stay away from her?”

  Cole smirks and his eyes flick over to me. “Just about.”

  Evan shakes his head and chuckles before taking a bite of his sandwich.

  Cole shrugs, carelessly. “I’m protective of her.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Brad says. “I’m the same way with Brooklyn.”

  Ashton and her crew—Reagan, Piper, and Hannah—sashay their way down to our end of the lunch table. “Here we go,” I mumble under my breath, but loud enough for the guys to heed my warning. Brad quickly drops his gaze to his food to avoid Hannah. I can feel Reagan’s eyes on me, but I keep my attention on Ashton as she moves to stand beside Cole with her hands on her hips. Let the shit show begin.

  Without looking up, Cole asks, “What’s up, Ashton?”

  “Oh, so now I’m Ashton? Not Ash? What’s going on with you? You ignored my calls all day yesterday. You promised me you’d wait for me at your locker so we could sit together at lunch today. What’s your deal?”

  Cole slowly lifts his head and locks his wide eyes on me with a “what the fuck” look before he tilts his head to look at Ashton.

  “Holy stage-five-clinger shit! What the fuck is your deal?” I bring my fist to my mouth to hide my smirk. “First of all—not that I owe you an explanation—I was busy with my family yesterday, and second, I didn’t wait for you at my locker because I was starving.” He jerks his chin toward the opposite end of the table. “Go down there and eat with your friends and let me eat my lu
nch in peace.”

  “Fine,” she huffs and storms off, Piper following her.

  “Bro, that was pretty harsh,” Carter says with a knowing smirk. Because this is typical Cole and Ashton behavior. She bitches. He snaps. And later they’ll be humping like rabbits. It’s a sick form of foreplay in their weird relationship.

  “She knows better than to come at me like that. She acts like I need permission from her to take a shit. She’s not my girlfriend.”

  I shake my head. Ashton doesn’t need a label. She’s his girlfriend in every sense of the word. Despite what the others think, Ashton is the only girl Cole messes around with.

  “Brad?”

  “Not happening, Hannah,” Brad says, eating his food while avoiding Hannah’s glare. “I’m not in the mood for your crazy shit today either. Move along.”

  I lower my head to hide my smirk. Go, Brad!

  And here we go. In five… four… three… two… “Zach, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Sure. Talk.”

  “I’d rather talk to you alone,” Reagan says, looking around the table. “Outside.”

  “I already know what you want to talk about and it’s not gonna happen because it’s none of your business.”

  Cole lifts his head. “What?”

  Reagan laughs once, rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms. “Whatever.” She scoffs as she turns and walks down to the end of the table with the rest of her crazy friends.

  “What does she want to talk about?” Cole asks.

  “What do you think?”

  “What’s up with them today, anyway?” Brad asks. “Did they get a double shot of psycho in their Starbucks this morning or what?”

  “Seems like it. Reagan’s been up my ass lately.” I shake my head. “I don’t get it. We broke up months ago. I’m not getting back with her. I don’t even like her.”

  “They’ve got their cheer panties in a bunch because all the new girls are taking the attention away from them,” Evan says, picking up three fries at a time and dragging them through a mound of ketchup before shoving them into his mouth. “Like Jayla.”