Lads & Lattes (High School Clowns & Coffee Grounds Book 1)

by A. J. Macey

  “I figured if you wanted, this could be your room”—my mom stood in the open doorway glancing around—“or if you wanted, there’s another bedroom downstairs in the basement. I actually think it’s directly below this one if the windows on the front of the house line up.” Her eyes were filled with hope laced with a silent plea to understand, to make the best of the situation. I bit back the irritated sigh I wanted to let loose and vowed to try because, really, what other choice did I have?

  “I might take the one downstairs.” I turned around and surveyed the room once more. I was thinking over the pros and cons of each space when I came up with an idea. “You could use this as your office?” My suggestion curved up sounding more like a question. My mom’s eyes lit up.

  “That’s a great idea, Emma. Let’s head down to the basement.” I followed her back down the stairs at the front. The basement was well lit from the sliding glass door at the other end of the spacious room. The carpet, trim, and walls matched upstairs, and there were four doors off the bottom of the steps lining a small hallway.

  The first was a matching bathroom to upstairs. Behind the second door was an unfinished utility room that held the water heater, furnace, and washer and dryer. The third, which was immediately to the left of the stairs, was the entrance to the two car garage. Finally, I reached the bedroom which was the door to the right of the staircase. It was identical to the room upstairs, only the window was a little shorter and directly above the grass.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll stay down here,” I announced, stepping back into the main area. My mom nodded looking around.

  “This would be a good place to put a couch and a TV for you, a place for your friends to come over. I’ll order some furniture for rush delivery.”

  I bit back the retort I wanted to snap at the mention of friends. All of my friends are back in California; who knows how it’ll go here. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it almost immediately after she seemed to think better of it. Good. I was rapidly approaching my ‘fake it till you make it’ limit at this point in this holiday weekend.

  Nodding, I let my mom know I was tired before grabbing my two bags from the car. After a second trip to grab a blanket and pillow, I settled on the floor of my new room. I spent several hours staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, before eventually falling asleep.

  September 3rd - Labor Day

  There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. - C.S. Lewis

  #PositiveThinking #MotivationMonday

  The movers showed up right after eight in the morning. My body was sluggish as it struggled to adjust to the two-hour difference from the West Coast to the Midwest. I found myself standing in the kitchen, unmoving, exhaustion pressing down on me. My eyes glazed over staring at the front windows from my position of leaning on the counter without really seeing. My mom was eagerly directing the movers to specific areas of the house when they came in with different pieces of furniture and boxes. She certainly wasn’t struggling this morning with lack of energy or jet lag.

  The men who brought in our stuff moved quickly, and after a couple of hours, they were done. I wasted the time while they were assembling our furniture by checking my messages and social media accounts I’d avoided since the party. Multitudes of texts flooded my phone asking about what happened and if it was actually true that I’d moved. I felt my eyes burning with the urge to cry as I responded to my friends, specifically ignoring the apology texts and missed calls from Tyler. Changing quickly after the movers left, I threw on a pair of shorts and a band concert shirt. I made my way back out to the main living area of the basement and grabbed the sandals I had set by the door to the garage. Padding upstairs, I paused a few times to slip them on before I walked down the hall to where I heard my mom shuffling around.

  “Mom.” I ducked my head into her new office to see her situating files and papers into her filing cabinet and desk, organizing all of her marketing materials and work stuff. “I’m going to run to the store and grab some bedding and stuff for my room.”

  “All right honey, you have your phone?” I nodded. “Let me know if you end up going to other places.” I agreed once more and headed to the car my mom had gotten for me. It was a used, gray Honda Civic that was in good condition. I didn’t much care about the kind of car I drove as long as it got me where I needed to go. Apparently though, that was too much to ask. Ugh.

  Halfway to the store, I got a flat tire.

  I thudded my forehead against the wheel of my car. The drive had been going pretty well up until that point. The house we had moved into was situated in a traditional suburban neighborhood with houses lining either side of the street. The yards were fairly spacious and almost all of the houses were two stories. Once I left the neighborhood though, is when I got my first dose of reality about the fact that I was no longer in California. A giant cornfield was across the divided highway.

  Who needs that much corn?

  After a little ways down the road, the flat fields started to give way to more homes and business as I neared the main city portion of Elk Ridge. Unfortunately, I didn’t get there because now I was pulled over with at least a mile between the nearest business and me.

  First, my boyfriend cheats on me.

  Then, my parents get a divorce, and I get shipped to the middle of freaking nowhere.

  Finally, I get stuck on the side of the road several miles from my house with a flat tire.

  I took a deep breath, pushing away the urge to break down. I can totally change a tire, right? Groaning, I made sure I wasn’t about to be run over by anyone and got out of the car. It was the passenger-side front tire that was flat, a large screw sticking up from the tread. I glared at the stupid thing, as if I expected it to fix itself.

  It didn’t.

  I rounded the back of the car and popped open the trunk. After shifting around the floor mat, I found the spare tire and jack. I lugged them out, practically dropping them in a heap on the ground when a car pulled up behind me. Tucking my long, wavy burgundy-black hair out of my face I turned to see a tall guy around my age stepping out of his vehicle.

  I’m about to get kidnapped.

  Or murdered.

  Awesome.

  “Need some help?” The stranger’s voice was a deeper baritone than I expected and was filled with an animated, happy tone. A pair of light wash jeans hugged his thighs and a plain, light-gray t-shirt hugged lean muscles that shifted as he walked. His hair was a dark brown that was curly and finger-combed away from his tanned olive skin. A wash of stubble coated his strong jaw, and as he neared I had to crane my neck up to look into his hazel eyes.

  Jeez, he’s tall.

  “Yeah, that’d be great.” I tried to sound normal as if him pulling over on the side of the road didn’t just scare the crap out of me.

  Or let him know that I think he’s super cute.

  He got to work, propping the jack under the car as I stood there awkwardly. I looked around me taking note of his car, a black Jeep Cherokee that was caked in mud on the bottom half. The dried dirt went as high as his windows, splattered across the shiny surface. His effervescent voice brought my eyes from scanning his car to him, his gaze filled with playfulness as he looked up to me from his crouched position. I purposely ignored the way his shirt was pulled tight over his back muscles.

  “Haven’t seen you around before.”

  “I just moved here,” I supplied. He nodded absently making the curls bobble on top of his head.

  “I’m Reid, what’s your name?”

  “Emma.” I committed his name to memory, or at least tried to. I was pretty terrible at remembering people’s names, but I figured he’d probably be going to the school I’d be starting at tomorrow, and it wouldn’t hurt to know at least one person. “So,” I started, looking around at the fields. “What does someone do for fun around here?” I tried to keep my voice from giving away that I really did not like it here so far, but I don’t think I managed.

  �
��A lot of girls go walk around the mall. When it’s nice out, a lot of us go down to the river and float on inner tubes or go four-wheeling. The movies are big on the weekend.” He paused to start tightening the nuts on the spare. When he was finished securing it, he stood wiping his hands on his jeans, the smears of dirt and grime dark against the light denim. “A lot of times, people just hang out with their friends.”

  “Thanks for your help.” I waved to the flat he had just laid within the trunk of my car. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve never changed a tire, so I’m pretty sure I would have been stuck out here for a while trying to figure it out.”

  “No prob, Emma.” He gave me a cheeky smile as he walked toward his Jeep. “I’ll catch you later.” I stood gaping after he drove off with a wink.

  Well, that was certainly interesting.

  2

  September 4th

  In less than four days, I’m starting a new school a MONTH into my senior year… in the middle of freaking nowhere.

  #Ugh #IsItGraduationYet #TickedOffTuesday

  Staring in the mirror of my bathroom, I took stock of my appearance before leaving for the first day. Loose, beachy waves flowed over my shoulders reaching mid-back. My natural black hair was tinted with a burgundy color I had done at the end of summer, having wanted to add something special to my hair. My brown eyes were rimmed with a line of black liner up top and mascara coated both top and bottom lashes. The inky eye makeup offset the plain and ordinary coloring of my irises—the rich brown pupil was encircled by a thin ring of darkened umber. A soft brick red chapstick coated my lips bringing some color to my slightly tanned face, along with the light dusting of blush I had thrown on.

  I decided to put on a pair of black skinny jeans and my brown ankle boots. A white t-shirt hung loosely around my curves while a rust-colored scarf and olive utility anorak jacket topped off my outfit. I wanted to make an impression, but not be overly dressy. My friends back home were used to my fancy outfits of tulle skirts, blouses or button-ups, heeled booties, hats, or dresses, but being the new girl here, I didn’t want to stick out too much.

  The school was two stories and looked new with clean, tan stones and lots of tall windows. I had left my house a good forty-five minutes before school started at 8:10 AM to ensure I wouldn’t be late, but the surprisingly decent amount of cars in the lot worried me until I noticed the sound of a marching band playing through the early morning humidity. At least back in California, it didn’t feel like I was attempting to wade through a swimming pool.

  Who lives in a place where it feels this freaking humid?

  Me, apparently.

  The front walkway was wide and led to several sets of glass double doors. The front entrance opened into a large foyer. To the right of where I was standing sat the cafeteria; a second floor balcony up above overlooked the space and windows dotted the ceiling letting in natural light to illuminate the cavernous room. Three sets of double doors were on the far end of the cafeteria, revealing a large gymnasium. Two hallways going further down the right-hand side of the building sat on either side of the gym. To my left was a wide set of stairs and another hallway that was filled with tall lockers. I was surprised at the newness of the building. Guess I should have done some research on this place instead of moping around.

  Hindsight is 20/20.

  I made my way across the entryway to the door labeled ‘Office.’ A middle-aged woman sat behind the counter while an older looking gentleman stood near a filing cabinet pulling out several sheets of paper.

  “Can I help you?” The woman’s voice was friendly, her blue eyes focusing from her computer to me. I nodded as I stepped closer to the chest-high counter.

  “My name’s Emma Clark. It’s my first day.” Her face lit up in understanding as she grabbed a stack of papers and a hefty book.

  “Yes, Principal Rudley informed me. Here’s your schedule, it should line up with your previous school and the classes you were taking there.” She handed me a sheet of paper with a list of classes, teachers, room numbers, and the times of when everything started. Her bright blue nail polish sparkled under the office lights. “This is a sheet for your teachers to sign. Here’s your school map, rule book, academic calendar, and a sheet for your parent or guardian to fill out.” I thanked her and made my way out to the cafeteria. There were a few more students sitting scattered around the tables than when I first arrived, most of which were reading or finishing up homework. Taking a seat at one of the tables off to the side, I pulled out a pen from my backpack and took a look at my senior year schedule.

  Homeroom: 8:10 AM - 8:30 AM

  Mr. Fergusen

  Room 219

  Period 1: 8:35 AM - 9:25 AM

  American History

  Miss Ester

  Room 232

  Period 2: 9:30 AM - 10:20 AM

  AP English

  Mr. Wright

  Room 105

  Period 3: 10:25 AM - 11:15 AM

  Nutrition

  Mrs. Sanders

  Room 130

  Period 4: 11:20 AM - 12:10 PM

  Civics

  Mr. Fergusen

  Room 219

  Lunch: 12:10 PM - 1:00 PM

  Cafeteria

  Period 5: 1:05 PM - 1:55 PM

  Trigonometry

  Mrs. Hazel

  Room 112

  Period 6: 2:00 PM - 2:50 PM

  AP Chemistry

  Mr. Davids

  Science Lab 3

  Period 7: 2:55 PM - 3:45 PM

  Dance

  Mrs. Petra

  Theatre Studio

  Not too bad.

  At least it’s not a typical gym class.

  I shuddered thinking about how we had to run laps and play sports that I was terrible at back at my old school. Over the next little while I marked down the paths on my map that I would need to take and tried to orient myself when the first bell rang.

  Startled out of my own little world, I looked up to see hundreds of kids filling the cafeteria and front walkway, the conversations melding together into one large cluster of noise. Lots of eyes were wandering in my direction as I made my way up the stairs, but I focused on glancing between my map and the overhead signs and ignored the wayward stares. Thankfully, my homeroom was easy to find right at the end of one of the interior hallways.

  “Ah, you must be our new student!” my teacher bellowed out. His belly strained against his button-up, and his pants were belted tight underneath the round mass. His dark brunette hair was graying and matched the goatee on his olive face. I stepped up to his desk and handed him one of the sheets the secretary had given me. He signed it quickly, bending over his desk and giving me a chance to glance around the room. The walls were covered in history posters, maps, and a timeline of important dates in American history. The whiteboard was mostly clear except a small portion on the end that held a ‘Quote of the Day’ that read “With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts. -Eleanor Roosevelt.”

  “Everyone, I would like to introduce Arbor Ridge High School’s newest student, Emma,” he boastfully announced to the filled classroom. All eyes landed on me if they hadn’t been already. Giving a small, awkward wave, I turned back to Mr. Fergusen and took my paper back. A slight tingle of a blush crept across my cheeks at the unwanted attention of the other students. “If you would, take a seat please, next to Jesse over there.”

  Mr. Fergusen pointed to the spot on the end of the second row next to a student who I assumed was Jesse. His full lips were downturned in a scowl, his skin the color of dark chocolate, and his black hair was short against his scalp. He was clean shaven, and his ears held a square diamond stud in each lobe. I sank into the chair next to him, keeping my eyes on my own desk. His attitude was very much put-off that I had been seated next to him.

  Get in line, buddy.

  I don’t want to be here, either.

  Homeroom went by quickly, the other students just talking amongst themselves after Mr. Fergusen took roll. When
the bell rang, I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. My eyes darted between hall signs and the markings I had made on my map as I headed toward American History. Thankfully, it was right along the main corridor and down one of the next interior hallways. My teacher, Miss Ester, was a short woman with a curvy figure clad in a navy skirt and yellow blouse. Her red hair was cut in a long bob, and the straight tresses brushed the tops of her shoulders.

  “Miss Ester? My name’s Emma, and I’m new,” I murmured not wanting to pull any more attention than I already was. I didn’t like being the center of attention, and being the new student in a school, especially senior year after the year had started, was the very definition of the epicenter of attention and gossip.

  “Yes, the office informed me you would be starting today.” She handed me a thick textbook and a syllabus. “We’re currently covering the American Revolution, and there will be a test at the end of next week. I suggest either gathering the class notes from another student, or…”

  “I can help her, Miss E,” a familiar effervescent voice behind me offered happily. A tanned arm slid around my shoulders, and the scent of Old Spice deodorant filled my nose. Reid focused a broad smile at our teacher. “Emma and I go way back. Don’t we?” I choked back a retort and just nodded, not trusting whatever could come out of my mouth if I attempted to speak. Miss Ester glanced between the two of us with an eyebrow raised and a skeptical ‘mhm’ before shoo-ing us to get settled. Reid steered me over toward one of the two-person desks and sank into the seat on the left. When I made no move to sit, he tugged on my jacket until I flopped into the cold metal chair.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” he started. Another cheeky smile appeared as he leaned forward on our desk and looked at me. “What’s your schedule look like?”