by M. K. Harper
Chapter 5
The next morning, I’m staring at myself in my bathroom mirror, trying to give myself the pep talk of the century. Things along the lines of...
You got this Linden, it’s only three months.
You can be anything you set your mind to...including invisible.
You aren’t that socially awkward.
That last one’s a fucking lie. I am so awkward it’s cringeworthy. Especially when I’m put on the spot or in the presence of the male species. Specifically the attractive ones. It’s like the filter between my brain and mouth short circuits and whatever I’m thinking just falls right out. And more often than not, I don’t even realize I’ve said anything. I still think I’m mentally projecting, but nope, I’ve said it aloud. If it weren’t so humiliating, it’d be downright hilarious. In spite of knowing this little tid bit of information about myself, I’m determined to not be that girl anymore. This is a fresh start and I can change the way I’ve been perceived for most of my life. I can have friends now, there’s a reason to try and be likable. These people don’t know a thing about me, so I’m already ahead of the game.
I take in my outfit once more. A pair of black ripped jeans, white cropped tee with a buffalo plaid button up tied around my waist and my black chucks. My long black hair makes my bright blue eyes pop. I know I’m not ugly, but my weirdness counter balances my looks so I’m sitting right around average most days. Sighing, I accept that I’m never going to be effortlessly beautiful and lord knows I’m not willing to put any effort to help the cause. Stepping out of my room, I can smell bacon and it immediately brings my mood up. If there were ever a reason I couldn’t be a vegetarian, it’d be bacon.
“Morning.” Mom smiles at me as she hands me a cup of coffee and slides a plate of food over. Honestly, it’s more like creamer with a splash of coffee and the first sip draws a orgasmic sigh from me. Nectar of the freakin’ gods.
“Morning,” I reply, still partially asleep. We eat in silence, both of us probably in our heads about our first day out in the real world with zero restraints. After I finish, I wash my plate and gather my things.
“Don’t forget everything we’ve discussed, Linden.” I know she’s serious when she uses my actual name. “You’re Linden Lockwood. We moved from Indiana, where I was born and raised. Keep to as much of the truth as you can so you don’t get yourself caught in a lie. I know you may feel like you can confide in someone after you’ve gotten to know them a bit, but it’s just not worth the risk. Okay? We have to keep our secrets buried.” Mom is staring at me like she’s waiting for me to argue with her about it, but she won’t get any complaints from me.
“I know, Mom. I promise you, you don’t have to stress so much about me saying anything. I never want to go back to Kentucky and if keeping my mouth shut helps prevent that, well then...consider me Fort Knox. This shits on lockdown.” I smile at her, hoping to lighten the mood and ease her worries. She laughs a little, but I can tell she’s still nervous.
“I know. This whole situation is just scary. I want you to have a normal life and now that the opportunity is finally presenting itself, it’s hard not to be afraid of it being ripped away from us.” She leans in and kisses my forehead. “I’m not sure what my schedule is going to look like until I get into the swing of things at the office, so I’m not positive what time I’ll be home. There’s money on the counter for take-out or you can cook. Whatever you want to do.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine though, don’t stress about me. Focus on your job and have fun. I know your dying to redecorate some old bitty’s house.” We both laugh, walking out together. I snag the box of yummy goodness I baked last night off the island on the way.
“Have fun, Inds. You deserve it.” We share a secret look. Both of us thinking how surreal this moment is. Her walking to work and me driving myself to school. She was never even allowed to entertain the idea of a job and heaven forbid I have a means of escape. Daddy Dearest never would’ve permitted that. I take a deep breath, thinking about how much easier it is to just breathe now that we don’t have his threats looming over us. Or worse, when he actually followed through with them. I smile at my mom and then kiss her cheek.
“You deserve this. Enjoy every second of your new job.” I hug her fiercely. “Love you!” I call out as I jog to the Jeep.
“Love you back!” I watch her round the corner before I put the truck in drive and head towards the center of town. I blare Billie Eilish through the speakers, hyping myself up for the epic shit show I’m expecting. Just a few minutes later I’m pulling into the student parking lot of Pleasant Falls High. There’s people everywhere and I have to maneuver the Jeep through groups of students who apparently don’t know that the middle of the road is not a place to congregate and chit-chat. After I finally find an open parking space, I’m damn near tempted to paint my name across it and mark it as my own. The moment I step out of the truck, I can feel every eye in the immediate vicinity fixated on me. My new kid scent must be extra potent. Holding the box of cupcakes to my chest, I head for the front of the school.
I catch sight of Chevy leaning against the brick siding near the front doors, exactly where he said he’d be. I exhale audibly. I’ve never been more grateful for a familiar face in my entire life. I don’t know why, but I felt an immediate connection with him. Every person I pass takes notice of me, and for someone who has spent her life being a professional hermit crab, it’s unnerving to say the least. Picking up the pace, I make a beeline for Chevy.
“Hey you. Didn’t know if you’d actually show...” He trails off, his head cocked to the side as if he’s trying to determine what the hell I am. Is he this starved for a friend that he doesn’t event trust that I’m genuinely glad to have his company? That question is answered almost instantly when a group of jocks wearing letterman jackets stumble up the stairs. I can feel the tension radiating off of Chevy as soon as they spot us. His entire body has gone rigid from being in the proximity of a perceived threat, something I’m all too familiar with.
“Gay Boy...” What appears to be their ringleader says as he saunters over to us. “Who’s your little pet?” His eyes flit over me. Cold, unemotional eyes that speak volumes as to the type of person we’re dealing with. If only the poor idiot knew the kind of person he was dealing with. Oh well, it couldn’t hurt to give him a little lesson. I refuse to be the same wallflower I was back in Kentucky.
“Dumbfuck? That must be your name, right? Because no one who lives in this century labels people so offensively. I mean, are you genuinely upset that he’s gay, even though it doesn’t effect you in the slightest, or are you secretly harboring your own gay tendencies and you just don’t know how to cope?” I poke out my bottom lip, feigning a pout.
“Who the fuck are you?” Dumbfuck growls at me, closing the space between us. It’s funny that he thinks he can intimidate me. I know what it’s like to experience true fear, and he’s just the baby version.
“Well, that really all depends on you.” I smile sweetly at him. “If you choose to play nicely, like we all learned to do in fucking kindergarten, then I’m Linden. But...if you choose to continue your misguided hate for Chevy, my friend, then you can just refer to me as enemy number one.” I hold his stare, not daring to break first. Assholes like him feed off of weakness and I’ll be damned if I give him an ounce. A cruel smile spreads across his face. A face way too handsome for the ugliness he harbors inside.
“You have no clue the kind of enemy I am,” he leans in and whispers against my ear, “but you’re definitely going to find out.” He turns and walks away, not giving me a chance to say another word. His little harem of loyal followers falling into step right behind him.
“Holy shit, Linden! Are you crazy?” Chevy’s eyes are wide, frantically searching my face for some clue that I am, in fact, crazy. I just shrug my shoulders. Maybe my survival instincts have slipped a bit with our newfound freedom. Or maybe I just don’t find teenage boys all that scary after living with
a true monster for most of my life.
“Seriously Linden, that’s Christian Ames. His family is one of the two founders of this town. His reach is as deep as the damn Mariana Trench.” Well crap on a cracker. Figures I’d go and piss off someone with the ability to rip our new life to shreds before the school day has even started. Mom is gonna kill me with her bare hands if she gets any word of this. My heart starts to pick up the pace, that familiar panicky feeling taking root. I plaster on a fake smile and hide the unease I’m now feeling.
“He was the definition of a bag of dicks,” I deadpan. Chevy laughs.
“Can’t argue with that. Just be careful, okay?” I nod, eager to move away from the subject for now. The last thing I need is to obsess over what Christian will do to get back at me. Determined to lighten the mood, I open the box of cupcakes and present it to Chevy with a proud grin.
“My God.” He stares at the sweet treats in awe. “I’m going to get diabetes.” A laugh burst from me as the warning bell rings.
“Just wait till you see what’s inside it.”
Chevy reluctantly takes one out of the box and peels the wrapper back. His eyes roll back in his head when he takes the first bite. When they finally open, he studies the cupcake. His laugh his half choked around the mouthful of cake he’s still trying to swallow.
“You baked an Oreo into the bottom of it?” he sputters. I just smile and link my arm with his and head for the front office. Time to see what hell I’m going to be subjected to for the next two months. So exciting!
Chapter 6
“Ughhh,” Chevy groans as we make our way into first period. We, thankfully, share three of our four classes. First up, Economics.
“I’ve gone from zero sugar intake for seventeen years to this.” He playfully glares at me as he rubs his tummy. “You’re gonna have to ease me into this. Otherwise, I’m liable to be in a sugar coma by the end of the week.” I laugh and shake my head as we take two seats at the back of the room.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” I pat his cheek. “We’ll fatten you up in no time. I mean, there’s so many other Oreo concoctions I need to make for you.” I grin wickedly at him. His head thuds against the desk as he groans. The last bell rings as our teacher walks through the door. Teacher would not be what I’d call him. Sex personified? Tall, dark and handsome? A Greek freakin’ god? All of the above. But when I think of a teacher, I think about old Mr. Sanders who used to spit a little when he talked and had a pot belly. How in the ever loving fuck will I retain anything this man teaches? I’ll be too busy staring at his ass. Every girl in the room perks up as he plops his leather messenger bag down beside his desk and moves to the chalkboard. At least I won’t be alone in my blatant ogling.
He turns back around and walks to his desk after he’s scribbled his name on the board. Mr. Bardot. My heart flips in my chest and an unsettling tingle fills my entire body. I don’t like my reaction to this man. Not one bit. Sure, I’ve thought boys were cute, but never have I been drawn to one of them before I even knew their first name. And Mr. Bardot is no boy. He looks young, probably only a few years older than us but he’s in an entirely different league than the boys my age. I have a feeling I’m going to have to continuously remind myself that he is my teacher and in no way should I find him attractive. Snort. Fat chance of that not happening. Mr. Bardot’s head snaps up and our eyes meet. Oh, for the love of all things holy, of course I snorted out loud. His dark hair is almost a match to mine. His eyes are a piercing green that have me rooted to my seat. I want to squirm and shy away from his penetrating stare, but I can’t move. In this moment, I’m a prisoner to him. Complete putty. An overwhelming feeling washes through me that I can’t quite pinpoint. I know my cheeks are flushed based on the heat flooding my body. The entire class is witnessing our odd stare down, and yet, I still can’t find the will to turn away. The stack of papers he’s been holding falls to floor, his mouth hanging open a bit.
One of the girls who’s been eye fucking him since he walked into the room rushes to collect them. A wave of jealousy hits me as she hands them back to Mr. Bardot, sticking her chest out and brushing her hand against his in the process. My eyes narrow and I have to fight the urge to not rip her hair from her head. What. In. The. Actual. Fuck? The exchange seems to snap Mr. Bardot from the trance we’ve been in. His eyes turn to Tits McGee and it feels like I can finally breathe again. I inhale deeply, as quietly as possible, trying my damndest to not let on how effected I am by him. I duck my head down, trying to play off the whole thing like it never happened. I can feel Chevy burning a hole through the side of my head from how hard he’s staring but no way in hell am I acknowledging him right now. Mr. Bardot clears his throat and starts to speak.
“Good Morning, everyone. I was told we have a new student, hence the name on the board.” He gestures behind him to where his name is. Ah, so that was for my benefit. I was wondering why he felt the need to let the class know his name when he’s been teaching them all year, when I highly doubt anyone could ever forget it.
“Let’s go through attendance and then we can have our new addition introduce herself.” He glances up at me briefly before calling off names. I take that time to really look him over. He’s gotta be at least six-foot-two. His skin is slightly tanner than mine. He’s wearing charcoal grey slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled up. Colorful tattoos cover his left forearm. God he’s yummy. I bet we’d make beautiful babies. Umm...what?! Where in the hell did that even come from? I need a goddamn intervention. Chevy chokes back a laugh and I want more than anything for the floor to open up and swallow me whole. My brain-to-mouth defect is gonna be a problem around Mr. Bardot. My attention snags on Tits McGee as she raises her hand while somehow managing to shimmy in her seat at the same time. Gag. I think Mr. Bardot called out the name Allana before she put on that little performance. Meh, still Tits McGee to me.
“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how about you give us your name and one fact about yourself.” He nods towards me and I cringe, already knowing that I’m gonna fuck this right up and embarrass myself somehow. I stand up, go big or go home I suppose.
“I’m Linden Lockwood.” I curtsy and then mentally facepalm myself. Score one for me though for not screwing up the new last name. “As for a fact about me? Hmm...” I tap my finger against my chin. “So hard to narrow it down to one, because I’m such a delightful array of interesting, but if I have to....I’d say that I have a love/hate relationship with Oreos. Love because, Oreos. And hate because they make my ass big.” I slap a hand over my mouth, silently wondering where my mother went wrong. At some point, I must’ve been dropped on my head as an infant. Why else would I have this insane penchant for verbal diarrhea. I can see Mr. Bardot fighting a smile and that eases a little of my anxiety.
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Chevy mumbles beside me.
“About my love of Oreos or are you saying I do, in fact, have a big ass Chev?” I swivel to face him, planting my hands on my hips. I arch an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting his foot-in-mouth answer. Chevy’s eyes widen and he rushes to clarify.
“The Oreos! Of course the Oreos. Your ass is perfect, Lin.” He bunches his fingers together and kisses them appreciatively like he’s suddenly Italian. I giggle at him, along with half the class.
“While that was thoroughly entertaining, let’s watch the language you two.” Mr. Bardot smiles this sweet, soul crushing smile at me and I swear I stop breathing. That smile could win over armies and sway even the strongest minds to bend to his will. And fuck, if that’s not alarming.
“Yup.” I nod my head quickly and take my seat. For the next ninety minutes, I steal glances at him. Sometimes he’s already looking at me, rubbing his slightly stubbled jaw as if he were worried. But his eyes hold a softness in them every time my blues crash with his greens. Maybe my years of emotional depravity are causing me to cling to anyone and everyone now that I’m able to. Case in point, my automatic BFF status w
ith Chevy. I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with me. Oh, I’m here because I have a weird connection to my Econ teacher. I sorta kinda want to climb him like a tree while also branding him as mine so every one else will fuck right off. Says the girl who’s never even been kissed. Guaranteed, I’d be carted off to a mental hospital if anyone ever heard that confession. I stare at the clock on the wall, willing the last two minutes of this class to move faster. I need a reprieve from the insane thoughts his presence brings out in me. The bell rings and I gather my stuff at the speed of light. I’m feet from the door, Chevy hot on my heels, when I hear that deep, velvety voice call out my name.
“Miss Lockwood? Could I have a word before you go, please?” I curse under my breath before I turn back towards him. Do not let your teacher know that you have a massive crush on him, Linden.
“I’ll save you a seat in English Lit, Lin,” Chevy yells from the doorway. I give him a thumbs up without looking back as I come to a stop in front of Mr. Bardot. He’s leaning against his desk, arms braced beside him, causing the muscles in his forearms to flex and I momentarily wonder if I’m physically drooling or just mentally. Who knew forearms were an aphrodisiac? He’s even more beautiful up close. I grip my backpack straps to busy my hands and prevent myself from doing something truly mortifying, like reaching out and tracing those gorgeous tattoos.
“Yes?” I ask. He clears his throat and stares at a spot over my shoulder.
“Where did you move here from?” His question throws me for a second. I thought he’d want to ask where my last Economics class was in relation to his syllabus or something along those lines, not anything personal.
“Um, Indiana?” I answer.
“Is that your final answer? Because that sounded more like a question.” His eyes narrow. I straighten my spine, determined to give the best damn performance of my life and not raise any alarms.
