by K. R. Grace
When we pulled up to our new home five minutes away from the school, Dad was waiting for us in the driveway with a smug look on his face.
“Great news! I got hired as a crew manager at Dollywood!” he exclaimed as soon as we climbed out of the car.
“Oh Tom, that’s wonderful!” Mom sighed and hugged him.
I didn’t see what there was to be excited about. Who wanted to work in some lame theme park centered on the “country” way of living? I shrugged and walked passed him, never making eye contact. I didn’t ask him to give up his VP position to move to this hick town.
I dodged the still-packed boxes in my room and sat down on the mattress in the middle of the floor. Nothing was normal. Nothing was okay. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone.
I pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head and plopped back onto the naked bed. Two hours later Mom knocked on the door.
“What?” I muttered.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Please, you have to eat,” she pleaded.
I almost felt bad but I didn’t move, didn’t respond.
I waited until the sun set and my parents were asleep before I went into the kitchen and dieted on canned cheese and chocolate chips. I no longer cared how I ate. I just consumed whatever sounded good at the moment.
I used to be a trained cross-country runner, well sort of trained. I was on the team but never won anything. My family had PTB syndrome (potential to bloat), so I’d avoided anything that might cause me to expand like one of those sponge pills that start out looking like medicine capsules and puff out into dinosaurs and bears when inserted in water.
Thinking about cross-country and dieting reminded me of my cross-country tryout.
As I leaned on the granite counter top, memories assailed me that I didn’t want but was unable to hold back. Clint noticed me for the first time that day.
He had been my world. How does a girl live after her very existence is ripped from her so unexpectedly?
I remembered being nervous. Clint was a year ahead of me and already on the track for practice. It was a big deal to tryout. Only the best of the best made the team. It’d taken me forever to change because I checked and rechecked everything to make sure nothing was out of place. When I finally joined the other cross-country hopefuls, I heard deep male laughter and turned to where the men’s team was doing warm-ups. The owner of the laugh was this cute guy with short blonde hair, bright sea green eyes, and the sexiest grin on the planet who just so happened to be in my geometry class.
Clint Blackstone.
Instead of using the low chained-link fence as a stationary hurdle like the other girls were doing, I decided to take the safer route and walk around to the gate entrance. No point in hurting myself on my first day.
Seeing Clint on the ground doing cross-legged pushups distracted me just a little bit. Okay, so maybe my brain was trained on him like a dog staring down a big, juicy steak. A big, muscle-bulging, sweat-glistening, mouth-watering piece of grade A beef.
The sun reflected off the golden hair on his arms and legs with every rep he did, mesmerizing me as he dropped down to the ground and pushed back up. Where it would’ve taken every ounce of concentration I had to do a one-legged pushup, he made it look effortless as he joked around with the guy next to him.
One second I was straining to hear what they were talking about, and in the next my legs slammed into the fence and I went airborne. I flipped over the chain-link and landed hard on my back. All air fled from my body, and for a second I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when the sea green eyes I’d been obsessing over just a few moments ago came into my view. Suddenly, my lungs began working again as my heart kicked into overdrive, and I drank in my first painful breath.
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re not trying out for the hurdles,” he joked as he extended a firm hand toward me. The way his muscles corded down his arms was a sight to behold. He wasn’t Mr. Bodybuilder, but he definitely was toned…all over.
I smiled sheepishly and took his offered hand. The moment our fingers met I knew I was supposed to love him. I wasn’t sure if we would ever get married, but I knew he was supposed to be my first love. My heart skipped a beat as he tugged me up into his arms and flashed me one of his heart-melting smiles.
“Don’t worry, Legs. I’ve got you.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
“You’re still up?” Dad broke into my thoughts.
“Yeah, getting something to eat,” I shrugged and pushed off the counter. I shuffled back into my room without giving him a second glance.
I sank down onto the mattress and curled up into a fetal position. I didn’t sleep. I was too afraid of what the dreams would bring. Clint was always in them asking me to help him, but I couldn’t. I lost him over and over again until I woke up shaking with torturing sobs that wracked my body.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I used to be the straight “A” student who obsessed over every grade and more often than not was the one who ruined the curve for everyone else. Now I just wanted it to all be over, to get my dumb diploma and be finished. What was the point in trying so hard when in the end, a diploma was a diploma no matter which way one looked at it. Unless one planned on going to college, which I didn’t.
I sat down in the first available desk in my chemistry II class and tried to disappear into my surroundings. Unfortunately, I was a victim of the “new kid phenomenon.” All the girls assessed me to determine if I posed a threat to their current social status while the guys decided if my fresh meat was worth pursuing. If I was lucky, the answer would be “no” on both accounts and everyone would leave me alone. Unfortunately, Lady Luck was never on my side.
“Elizabeth, would you like to introduce yourself?” Ms. Rickles the science teacher asked.
“It’s Star, and no I don’t,” I said and slouched lower in my seat.
“Well, Star, it’s nice to have you.”
“She tends to be a little nosey. Don’t mind her,” a girl to my right leaned over and whispered.
Maybe if I gave her the look that said I thought she was an enigma rather than a human, she’d leave me alone. It didn’t even faze her. She just smiled brightly and sat back in her seat. She was the peppy type with big blue eyes and shinny blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. The bright Pepto-Bismol pink peasant shirt she was wearing was blinding my eyes.
Ms. Rickles spent the entire class period going over chemical compounds, something I learned in chemistry I, so I spent most of the time staring out the window overlooking the back parking lot.
My eyes immediately gravitated towards a guy wearing all black strutting across the lot as if he didn’t care he was already an hour late. I leaned forward in my desk to try to get a better look at his features. There was something different about him. His muscles were larger than the average guy and he seemed taller too. His black hair was thick and hung just above his strong shoulders, giving him a rough-around-the-edges look.
As if he knew I was staring, he cocked his head in my direction and our eyes met.
Damn, I wished I was closer so I could see what color his eyes were.
Was he really looking at me? Or at the window? Or something else?
I got the instant vibe that he didn’t allow people to get close. Of course, it only made me want to get a closer look at him. I wasn’t sure why I even cared. It wasn’t like I’d allow myself to be interested in anyone anyway. I was only allowed to have one real love in my lifetime.
The guy finally disappeared beyond my line of vision, and I slumped back into my chair. I spent the remainder of the class coloring in the lines of my notebook paper with my black pen.
I was relieved when the bell rang. Rather than shaking the annoying girl off, however, she followed me down the hall. I seriously did nothing to encourage her yet she acted like we’d exchanged phone numbers and swore to be each other’s best friends forever.
“What kind of name is
Star? I mean, did your parents give it to you or what?”
Maybe if I didn’t respond to her, she’d go away.
“I’m Wayley, by the way. My parents say they just made it up. I think it makes me unique. Have you been here long? There isn’t much to do. We usually have to drive to Knoxville, Pigeon Forge, or Gatlinburg to have some decent fun. I like your outfit. You must be from the city. What’s it like living in a big city? I’ve always wanted to live in a big city. You have shiny hair. I wish mine looked like that. You wouldn’t believe how much hair product I have to use each morning just to get mine to look like it does right now.”
I wanted to tell her she was acting like Miss Bates from Jane Austen’s novel Emma, but I wasn’t sure she’d get the reference, or that it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Instead, I made a sharp turn into my Spanish II classroom.
“Oh, I’m taking French. I’ll save you a seat at lunch, though.”
I’d never been happier to suffer through past predicates in my entire life. When the bell rang all too soon, I grabbed my things and regretfully left the classroom. She was somewhere in these halls. I could feel her. It was quite possible she somehow put a tracking device on me.
When the cafeteria came into view, I dodged behind a big dude with dreadlocks in hopes of going unnoticed. I didn’t know how much I could take listening to Wayley. I mean, seriously, people like her ought to come with a mute button on them. I was so close to sweet freedom when I heard that unmistakable voice.
“Star! Over here!” She waved at me and the cafeteria went quiet.
Once again, I found myself under the microscope. Everyone was trying to decide what category I belonged to and whether I was an endangerment to their current social ranking. Newsflash to all of them, I didn’t want to have any rank. I just wanted to be one of the loners nobody remembered. Unless they were afraid my dark cloud of doom would destroy the school’s peppy vibe, I wasn’t going to be a threat to anyone. I definitely didn’t want to tip off the queen bees and kings of campus. The school would remain theirs as far as I was concerned.
Maybe I should’ve said that in chemistry so word would’ve spread by now. I sat down next to Wayley just to get away from the spotlight.
“Who do we have here?” a slender guy with a thick head of ash blonde hair asked from across the table.
“Guys, this is Star. Star, the guys,” Wayley made the general introduction.
“I’m Chris,” the blonde introduced himself.
“I’m Giles,” a guy with ebony skin and a shaved head smiled.
“I’m Onyx. My parents are scientists,” a girl with dark brown eyes and black hair smiled with a shrug. She reminded me of my friend India back in Atlanta. Her parents were doctors from Israel and had a wry sense of humor in naming their kids after other mid-eastern countries. Her brothers’ names were Iran, Turk, and Sri (for Sri Lanka). I hadn’t felt anything for the friends I’d left until I looked at Onyx.
“So, Star, where’re you from?” Chris asked.
“Atlanta.” I avoided making eye contact. He had the aura of a guy who was interested, and I wasn’t interested.
“Oh, no wonder you dress so cute. It’s very New York,” Wayley began to babble.
Did she realize New York and Atlanta were as similar as apples and eggs?
“Yeah, we should so go shopping together. We can go to the outlet mall in Sevierville. It’ll be fun,” Onyx smiled.
I wanted to tell her the day I went shopping with them was the day the earth stopped revolving around the sun. Instead, I kept my mouth shut. Well, metaphorically at least. I merely chomped into my peanut butter sandwich.
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Wayley nodded.
“So, are you single?” Giles asked.
I didn’t look at him, didn’t even move. What made him think he could ask me that after only knowing me all of five minutes? Did I look like I’d welcome that kind of question?
“Giles, leave her alone,” Onyx slugged him.
“What? I was only asking because I want to make sure no big dude is going to come and pound my face into the ground for looking at his girl the wrong way.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re such a dork.” I heard Onyx snort.
I just sat there, staring at my hands. The panic was starting to creep in. All I could see was Clint’s smiling face and hear his deep booming laugh. God, I needed to be wrapped in his arms so badly my body ached all over.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Wayley put her nose into my business again. Did she miss the lone bite of my sandwich I’d just taken before Giles sucker-punched me with his question?
“I’m not hungry,” I shrugged, shoving my sandwich back into my bag. If the bell didn’t ring soon, I was going to hide in the bathroom until it did. There was only so much I could take before I exploded on these people.
“First day jitters? I understand that one. I was new here three years ago,” Chris said.
“Do you remember when Valeria Lewis moved here from Canada? Everyone flocked around her like she was some kind of rare diamond. Within a week she was dating Tyler Mitchum, the all-state quarterback,” Wayley giggled.
Where was that blasted bell?
Finally, the bell rang, and I was released from my perky purgatory. I dodged the massive crowd in the main hallway and found my calculus class without a problem. I thought I was safe, until I heard the voice behind me.
“Imagine that, we all have calculus together.”
God, the secret service could use the girl’s voice as an interrogation tactic. They’d have terrorists spilling their guts within seconds.
I turned around to see Wayley, Onyx, Chris, and Giles. The only reason I didn’t groan was because I was afraid someone would ask me to explain myself, or consider it an invitation to strike up more conversation. I must’ve done something horrible to deserve this kind of punishment. Maybe if I flipped them off they would get the hint. But, Wayley would probably think it was what all the cool kids in Atlanta did and the message would be lost on them. If I survived this, I was going to kill my mother for making me move here. At least back home people left me alone because they already knew the story.
The teacher came in and they were prevented from talking for the next ninety minutes. There was a God!
Mr. Nickelson might as well have been speaking French for all I was paying attention, but by the end of the class, I’d come up with a million ways to axe these people off and get away with it. Hypothetically speaking of course. Orange definitely wasn’t my color.
When the bell rang again, I tried to shake them off by scooping up my books and darting out the classroom like I was about to wet myself if I didn’t get to a bathroom soon, but Onyx stuck with me like Velcro.
“I didn’t know you were in band. What instrument do you play?” she asked as we walked toward the band room.
“The triangle.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.” She gave me a look as if to say, “Who specifically plays the triangle?” Thankfully, she kept her comments to herself. A first for her and her friends.
The sound of random instruments playing violated my poor eardrums as soon as the door opened and we walked into the band room. God, the place smelled like moldy feet and peanuts. There were two guys using purple color guard flags as light sabers. Another dude was doing some sort of jig while playing his trombone. I spotted the percussion section and everything in me screeched to a halt.
Sitting at the piano was the guy from the parking lot. He was playing as if he didn’t hear the animalistic chaos going on around him. He’d pulled his jet black hair back into a short ponytail just off the nape of his neck, but one errant strand hung over his right eye. I stared at the muscles in his arms, watching them flex as his fingers effortlessly danced over the keys. Oh, but he was so mesmerizing. How he could be so large and yet move so gracefully was beyond me.
“That’s Drake Knight. He’s nice enough once you get him to talk to you, but he has a reputation for being…tough, i
f you know what I mean. They say he was part of this bad motorcycle gang. That’s how he got hurt. The rumor is he was racing someone drunk in the mountains and went off the side into the water,” Onyx answered my unspoken question.
He stopped playing and turned to pull himself up with metal crutches I hadn’t noticed before. But, hadn’t he been walking into the school just fine earlier?
The padded clamps slid over his forearms and he moved with awkward grace (if that’s even possible) to a large table with wooden teeth. He sat down on a stool and leaned his crutches against the wall. I knew I was staring like an oaf, but I was helpless to do anything else. Did his problem only come around at a certain time of day?
I shook my head to get my brain working again before I moved toward the general vicinity of the percussion instruments.
“Hey there, did it hurt?” A tall, skinny guy with blue hair asked as he walked up to me.
“Huh?” I frowned. Had I missed something?
“When you fell from heaven. Because you’re the prettiest angel I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t quit your day job, kid.” I brushed passed him to get to the table that held an assortment of noise-making instruments.
I could hear guys laughing and ribbing the smurf for being shot down but didn’t bother looking at them. Instead, I scanned the contents on the table until my eyes finally landed on the triangle-shaped piece of metal on a string and the little metal stick next to it.
I turned and tried not to stare at Drake again, but his arms moving as he beat sticks on the wooden teeth drew my attention to him. Arms like his had to give really good hugs. Just the sight of them made me feel safe. That is, until I realized he was staring openly at me, his calculating yet warm blue eyes following me like a wolf stalks his prey. I quickly averted my gaze and acted like I didn’t notice but I did. How could I not?
He made me feel like the frog Clint and I dissected in biology. We’d cut it open to find it overflowing with eggs. The teacher got so excited she had everyone stand around us and watch as we struggled to clear away the black goop to get to the organs. Said goop that, had the mother not been killed for the purpose of science, would’ve one day turned into bug-eating frogs.
