by Julia Wolf
I shook his hand, letting myself return his smile. “Grace.”
His eyebrows went up. “Oh, word? Like you’re all graceful and shit?”
“More like the actress turned princess. At least, that’s what my parents said they’d been going for when they named me.”
He nodded, eyes going over my shoulder. “All that’s very interesting, Grace. Here’s the thing: you’re in my friend Bash’s seat, so I’m going to have to ask you to move your fancy little ass out of it.”
Startled, I jerked back. “How can this be anyone’s seat? It’s the first day of school.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. How ’bout you move now?”
Someone bumped my desk from behind. Since I was aiming for being invisible and didn’t want to make a scene, I gathered my things and started to stand just as my desk was bumped again, sending me sailing into Gabe’s. My hips hit the edges, knocking the wind from my lungs, and my hands braced on the top, stopping me from completely faceplanting.
Gabe caught my wrists as the desk-bumper moved behind me, brushing my ass.
“Watch out,” Gabe warned. “Such a clumsy little princess.”
The presence at my back still hadn’t moved, and Gabe’s fingers were locked tight around my wrists. I tried to pull away, which only made him smile wider. My struggle seemed to amuse him.
“Let go,” I gritted out, twisting my wrists in his hands.
To my surprise, he complied right away, releasing me and holding up his own hands in innocence.
Straightening my spine and raising my chin, I walked down the aisle, not acknowledging the desk-bumper, Gabe, or any of the people now staring at me. The only available seat was in the front. When I sat, the teacher looked up, scanned the class, then went back to flipping the pages of his textbook.
Nothing else happened during class. Mr. Klaski finally spoke to us, calling attendance, and then passed out the syllabus. Up close, he looked like he was barely out of high school himself. I bet this was his first job, and what a first job to have. No one paid attention, and only half the people present actually answered when he called their names. When the bell rang, his relief was visible.
Lunch was next for me, and relief flowed through my veins. On my way out the door, Gabe called, “Bye, little princess girl!” I didn’t pause or look back. Gabe and I were not going to be friends.
I stopped at my locker to grab my bagged lunch, my hands shaking as I turned the combination. That shit in class had rattled me more than I would have liked. This year was supposed to be drama-free, yet here I was, halfway through my first day, and I’d already been manhandled and kicked out of my seat by a smiling baby-bully.
Bex was waiting for me by the doors, and together, we found a spot on the bleachers. As soon as I sat down on the warm metal, I exhaled a huge sigh.
“That bad?” she asked.
“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” I shook my arms out and rolled my head around on my neck. “My muscles are sore from how tense I’ve been all day.”
She scrunched her nose, causing her septum piercing to catch the sun. “What’s up with that?”
I didn’t feel like getting into it. In my world, denial was my favorite river to swim in. If I didn’t voice my concerns, maybe they’d stay inside my head and not become real.
“Just this asshole in my business math class. I’ll know to steer clear of him from now on.”
“Business math? Why are you in that class?”
I rolled my eyes. “I did sort of horribly in precalc last year and Mrs. Davis feels I need to learn humility so she wouldn’t switch me. Personally, I think it’s pretty insulting to the kids in my math class to imply I could learn humility from them, but whatever.”
“Mrs. Davis has always been trippin’. She tried to convince me I didn’t need AP art this year. Like I want to be sitting in a regular art class, learning humility, when I could be earning college credit and actually learning something useful.”
I perked up. “I’m in AP art too. Thank god I’ll know someone in that class.”
“Cool, cool. Are you still into sculpting? I remember all the dope stuff you used to make.”
“I am. At my school in Switzerland, I was learning to work with metal.”
“Switzerland, huh? I kind of thought that was a rumor, like the rest of it. But you really went to the Alps.”
I picked the crust off my sandwich and rolled it into a ball between my hands. “I don’t know what else people were saying about me, and I’d prefer not to. But the Switzerland part is true. We just moved back a week ago.”
I’d heard enough of the rumors and innuendo before we moved and had a feeling it only amped up once I was off continent. Back then, I’d let it roll off my back. I’d had no plans of returning to this town or this school.
But, you know, best laid plans and all that.
Bex had questions about Switzerland, which I was glad to answer. This was a subject I had no trouble with. Once her curiosity was satisfied, we both packed up the scraps of our lunches and headed down the bleacher steps.
“So, what’s up with you? Weren’t you friends with that girl Cassie?” I asked.
I wasn’t trying to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I had to wonder why Bex was so ready, willing, and able to hang out with me. She’d been here the entire time I was gone, and I remembered her having a good friend she’d spent most of her time with outside of art class.
She groaned. “Yeah, she’s my bestie, but look.” She pointed to a shadowy area under the bleachers. There were people under there, but I couldn’t make any of them out. “She’s been with this guy, Aiden, since the summer. Her life pretty much revolves around him. They’re under there, hopefully just making out, but who knows. If you ever catch me under the bleachers with a dude, please check me into the closest mental hospital because I’ve clearly gone mad.”
I gave a little snort. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be caught dead under there either.
“So, I’m the B-list, huh?” I shoulder-checked her, but with our height difference, my shoulder hit the side of her head.
“If Cassie keeps ditching me for her pretty boy, you could slide onto the A-list pretty fast.”
Laughing, we stopped to throw away our trash. When we turned to head back inside, my breath caught in my throat, and I grabbed Bex’s arm.
“That’s the asshole from my math class.” I jerked my chin toward the wall by the doors where a group of boys stood around talking. Gabe was in the middle, leaning against the brick, his long legs crossed at the ankle, that maniacal smile directed at the guy next to him.
And it was the guy next to him who’d made my breath catch. He was looking directly at me—and it wasn’t a nice look. His dark brows were angry slants above stormy black eyes and his jaw was tight with tension.
My stomach dropped to my feet. No one had ever looked at me that way, much less a boy I’d never laid eyes on in my life. And, oh, I’d remember this boy.
“Oh yeah, Gabe is a total asshole. I don’t really know him, but I’ve heard he sticks his dick in anything that moves. So, you know, probably stay away. Unless that’s your thing now,” Bex said.
My head swiveled to her. “No. It’s not my thing.” My protest came out harder than I’d intended, but it was a sore spot that, when pressed, made me lash out.
She leaned closer to me. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Grace.”
“I know you didn’t. Sorry.” I closed my eyes for a beat, then opened them and offered her a smile. “Who’s the other guy? The broody one?”
“You mean the hot as fuck one? That’s Sebastian Vega. I don’t really know him either, never had a class together or anything, but a girl can look.”
“Sebastian? Bash?” Desk-bumper.
Great. The stupidly hot boy who looked like I’d just murdered his cat right in front of him would be in class with me every single day, along with his slightly demented friend.
The warning bell rang, and we couldn’t delay ou
r reentry any longer, although Gabe and his buddies didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere. Bex and I walked past them, and I was careful not to look in their direction.
I thought we were home free, passing them without drawing attention, but then a hand slipped under my backpack and around my waist, yanking me against a hard body.
“Not gonna say hi, little princess?” Gabe asked with that damn smirk.
I pushed him away, and he went without a fight. My hands went to my hips, and I turned to face him. “This isn’t going to be a thing. You’re not going to touch me when you want to and call me stupid little nicknames. Being your entertainment in any way, shape, or form does not interest me, so you can stop right now.”
The guys behind him cackled. Well…except him. His eyes were on me again, and this time instead of looking at me like I’d murdered his pet, he looked like he might murder mine. Or maybe me. A trickle of fear traveled up my spine. This boy had never spoken to me or touched me, but he made me a little afraid.
I should have been afraid of his handsy friend, but he backed off when I told him to, so I wasn’t. Annoyed, yes. But not scared.
“Well, okay, Grace. Guess we’re not gonna be friends then. I see how it is,” Gabe drawled, all lazy and self-assured, making it seem like I had been the one to overreact. He tipped his chin at Bex. “Ms. Lim, always lovely to see you.”
I pulled Bex into the school before anyone could say anything else.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded.
“I have no idea. Gabe being a tool?”
She shuddered. “He knew my last name. Gross. I feel diseased now. Must go take bleach shower.”
I laughed, giving her a playful shove. “Hey, no slut shaming, even if he is a tool.”
Bex huffed, knocking into me. “Valid point. Consider it unsaid. See you in art?”
“Yep. See you.”
Chapter Three
It was easy to get lost in a sea of four-thousand teenagers who were more interested in themselves than the people around them. I made it all the way to my final period, English, without being noticed.
The class was arranged in a circle, and directly across from me, sat Elena Sanderson, my best friend since elementary school. Pretty, blonde, cheerleader Elena who’d turned on me at the drop of a hat. She’d taken a spark of a rumor and doused it with gasoline, attempting to burn me to the ground.
Beside her was Nate Bergen—baseball player and player in general. He hit the genetic jackpot—in looks at least. In other areas, he was missing something vital, something human most of us had.
Their attention was on each other until our teacher took roll. When she called “Grace Patel,” I became their sole focus.
Elena frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.
Nate’s reaction was slower, but little by little, his mouth pulled up into a cocky grin and he sat forward in his seat, giving me a subtle wave.
I stayed neutral, neither waving back nor ignoring them, simply standing my ground and writing down everything the teacher said. Or attempting to. Mostly, I scribbled in my Jack Skellington notebook to give me something to do other than worry what would happen once class ended.
When the final bell rang, I’d already packed my things, so I calmly headed for the door.
“Grace!”
I stopped. Waited. Elena gripped my elbow, coming up beside me.
“You were really going to walk out without saying anything?” she asked, almost sounding hurt. If I didn’t know her, didn’t remember all the things she’d said to me, I would have believed her. But I did know her. If she was hurt, it was only because she wasn’t used to people not paying attention to her.
“Hey, El. I’m sorry. Just in a hurry to get to my locker. It’s down in the dungeon.”
She curled her lip. “Oh no, what did you do to get a locker down there?” And then she giggled, like she knew exactly what I’d done.
“Grace...what’s up, girl?” Nate draped one heavy arm over my shoulder, the other around Elena. “You don’t write, you don’t call...everyone thought you’d made a run for it. But you’re clearly not on the lamb, ’cause here you are.”
I gave him a weak smile. His touch made my skin crawl. “Hi, Nate. I’m back, not hiding. But I have to go.” I ducked under his arm and made it through the door. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow in class. We can catch up then.”
Spinning on my heel, I practically ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. I should have planned this better. Should have picked up my Spanish book before my final period. Now, I’d have to sprint to catch my bus.
I made it to the hallway where my locker was, but fate wasn’t on my side. No, fate had decided to be a bitch today.
Sebastian Vega leaned against my locker while one of the red-lipped girls from math class leaned against him. Her hands were on his chest; his were loose at her hips.
For a second, I debated what to do. But only for a second. I needed that book.
As I made my way toward my locker, I drew Sebastian’s attention. His hands fell from the pretty girl, moving into his pockets instead. He watched me with intense curiosity and what appeared to be equally intense animosity.
“Excuse me.” I kept any shakiness from my voice. “That’s my locker.”
He raised a thick eyebrow, not moving an inch.
“Would you mind? I need to grab a book so I don’t miss my bus.”
He stared, still as a statue.
The girl faced me, drawing my eyes from Sebastian, and took a good long look at me. Not unfriendly, like I was encroaching on her territory. More like I was an alien who’d just landed on her planet. “Aren’t you in business math?”
I sighed, sensing there was no hurrying this process. “I think so. I noticed your pretty red lips.” I stuck out my hand, and we shook, which seemed oddly formal for high school, but felt like the thing to do. “I’m Grace. Do you think you can tell your boyfriend to move?”
Her eyes strayed to Sebastian, then back to me. “I’m Helen, and he’s not my boyfriend. He’s also not gonna move unless he wants to.” She backed away, biting her lip to suppress a grin. “Have fun!”
She sauntered down the empty hallway, leaving me alone with Sebastian.
I had a decision to make: run scared or stand my ground. If I ran, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t chase. I had no idea what his motivation was, but being alone in this hallway with him had that earlier trickle down my spine surging into a waterfall.
“Excuse me.” I pointed to my locker behind him. “If you’d slide over about ten inches, that would be spectacular.”
He scoffed, letting his eyes trail over my body, from my calf-high Doc Martens, to the thin material draping over my body, to my bare chest and collarbones, before settling back on my eyes.
“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to me?” His voice was a fur glove trailing over my skin, soft, rich goosebumps sprouting in its wake. I nearly leaned closer to hear more of it.
“What? Why?”
His hand came up, and he held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, clear dominance in his gesture. A little tighter than necessary, but not so tight it hurt. He wanted me to know who was in control of this encounter—and it sure as hell wasn’t me.
“Seems polite, you know? You introduced yourself to my boy. You told Helen your name. But you haven’t said a word to me. Why is that?”
My hands shook at my sides as a feeling of panic clawed at me. This boy scared me. He only held my chin between two fingers, but I felt trapped—stuck in this hallway, waiting to see if he’d set me free or keep me captive.
I sucked in a breath and steeled my spine with all the bullshit I’d survived over the past couple years. “I’m Grace Patel, and I’d really prefer if you removed your hand.”
You psychopath. I’ll knee you in the fucking balls if you don’t. I’ll scratch your eyes out if you come any closer. Don’t ever touch me again.
He stood straight, only inches fro
m me. I was tall, but so was he, and in my boots, we were nearly nose to nose. I bet he used his height to intimidate, but I found being level with him equally intimidating.
He shook his head, and his hand slid along my jaw, stopping at the nape of my neck beneath my hair. “I think you wanted to say a lot more than that, but you didn’t. Why?”
I licked my lips, feeling parched. His unrelenting gaze was like the desert sun beating down on me. There was no shade, nowhere to hide.
“I just need my Spanish book. You’re making me deeply uncomfortable.”
His fingers moved back and forth on my neck, the touch so light, I might have been tickled by it if I hadn’t found it threatening. No, I wasn’t laughing. My fight or flight instinct was kicking in, and my knees bent in preparation for making a run for it. Standing my ground was looking like the worst decision ever.
“All right.” He released me, holding his hands up and moving to the side. “Get your Spanish book, Grace.”
Hands still tremoring, it took me three tries to get my combination right. Sebastian watched me twist the lock, and I was certain he’d memorized the number. I’d worry about that later. Now, I had about thirty seconds to book it out of here and make my bus.
I grabbed the textbook and slammed my locker shut. Just as I was about to run, Sebastian’s arm blocked my path, caging me in, my back against the cool metal, the lock digging into my spine.
“You can call me Bash,” he said.
“Move, Bash. I have to catch the bus.”
His low chuckle filtered directly to my central nervous system, short-circuiting it. “I’m going to guess you missed it by now. I can drive you home.”
My brain exploded. The guy truly was crazy if he thought that would be happening.
“Uh, no. I won’t be going anywhere with you. I’ll figure something out if I’ve missed the bus. Let me go. I’m seconds away from screaming my brains out.”
He stroked his knuckles down my cheek in a way that would have been sweet and affectionate if he weren’t a complete stranger who seemed to get his rocks off by scaring and intimidating me. “See you tomorrow, Grace.” He dropped his arm, freeing me.
