Collision Course - Chapter One

Chapter One

Of Mice and Men

(1 week later)

“Mind if I sit?” a voice asks from over my shoulder. Turning slightly, I find a good looking guy with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose looking questioningly at me. I'm about to shoo him on his way when I catch a glimpse of his feet.

Wearing the standard navy pants and a gray and blue checkered button down shirt that make up one of Hawthorne Academy's school uniform options, he also has on a bright red pair of Chucks. It's just enough for me to go against my instincts, and before I second guess myself I kick out one of the empty chairs at my table in way of an invitation.

It's third period study hall and I've managed to scope out a table in the back corner of the library. Although I'm not really in the mood for company, I also realize I'm not in the position to turn a potential ally away, and the Chucks seem like a sign to me. With a lopsided smile and a nod of thanks he takes the seat across from me, settling his stuff in one of the two other empty seats at our table.

“So you're new here.” It's more of a statement than a question, so I don't bother answering. I might've transferred at the beginning of a new school year, making my entrance less noticeable, but I felt sure most of the Junior class had been attending the Academy for years, long enough to recognize each other by now. “I'm Drew, by the way. Thanks for letting me sit.”

“Tess,” I say, as I shake the hand he's extended to me.

“I know. We have first period English together. I noticed you during attendance.”

I look him over again, trying to decide if I remember him at all. I come up blank. This doesn't surprise me - I know I spent most of English class staring out the window in a daze. Ever since the accident it's been hard for me to focus for long periods of time, which I'm sure is going to make this school year extra fun. Shrugging unapologetically, and maybe with a little more attitude than I intended, I say, “I didn't notice you.”

At first I can tell he's caught off guard by my curt tone, but in the end he laughs it off. “Not big on the niceties, huh?”

“Not particularly,” I answer, but some of the gruffness has left my voice and I can feel my shoulders relax a little. I hadn't even realized I'd tensed up at our conversation, but considering everything has me feeling stressed these days, I shouldn't've been surprised.

“That's OK. Luckily I don't require them. So can I ask where you transferred from, or will you bite my head off for it?”

Having no reason not to answer, I shrug lazily. “I just moved here from Florida.”

“Nice. Disney World.”

A small laugh escapes me even as I roll my eyes at the predictability of his assumption. Like I hadn't heard that before. “No, not Disney World. Florida's a big state, you know. I happened to live at the very bottom of it, hours away from Disney.”

“What, no Mickey? That's a shame.”

From the twinkle in his eyes I can tell he's teasing me, so I play along. “I'm not a big fan of mice anyway.”

“Mickey isn't any mouse, you know. He's THE mouse.”

“Well,” I say with a laugh, “I'll take my beaches over your mouse any day.”

“Oh. Excellent point. Even Mickey would have a hard time competing with the beach. So you lived close to one?”

“Right down the street.”

He sighs dramatically, and it's obvious he's letting me know he's jealous. “I think I'd kill to live so close to the beach, especially Florida beaches. They always look so damn blue. Or at least they do on TV, I've never actually been to Florida to know for sure.”

“You should go - they're every bit as blue as what you see on TV,” I say, unable to keep the longing out of my voice as I think of my home state.

“It sounds like you already miss it. How'd you end up moving up here?”

And just like that the memories come crashing to the surface, bringing with them the pain. I close my eyes, trying to hide my struggle for composure as I take a deep breath, just as my therapist taught me to do. One minute at a time, I think to myself. Just take it one minute at a time. Only a few seconds pass before I answer him, but in my head it feels more like an eternity. “I didn't have a choice.”

His eyebrows arch up at the bitterness in my voice I'm unable to disguise. “Parents force you to move?” he guesses.

“Something like that.” I've no intention of going into the sad details of my move from sunny Florida to the small, stuffy town of Littleton, Pennsylvania. Just one of the many subjects that are off limits with me, and the sooner he realizes that, the better off we'll both be.

Before he has a chance to respond, we're interrupted by a leggy blonde surrounded by what I could only assume are her entourage. All of them are perfectly tanned and manicured, and all of them have on clothes a size too tight, too much makeup, and hair that would probably go up in a blaze if it came within two feet of an open flame or was exposed to too much direct sunlight. Despite knowing I shouldn't judge people on first sight, in my head I'd already designated the blonde as Malibu Barbie, and all her glossy little sidekicks as the Staceys.

Just as I was about to lecture myself on judging people on looks alone, she opened her mouth and saved me the trouble. “You're still here, loser? Weren't you supposed to transfer to a different school this year?”

Considering I'd only just started at Hawthorne Academy I assumed she was talking to Drew, and turned expectantly to await his answer. “Despite the little campaign you lobbied against me last year, Carmen, I never had any intention of transferring. I have every bit of a right to be here as you and your little fan club here have.”

In response, she gives an exaggerated eye roll and a little flip of her hair that I would've bet money had been rehearsed in her bedroom mirror for longer than most of us spend on monthly primping. I know nothing of this girl, but already I don't like her. This was not someone I anticipated becoming besties with, to say the least. “Please. No one wants you here. You know it, I know it, and everyone else knows it. You're an Academy reject.”

“At least I don't have to have my dad buy my way in, Carmen. At least I'm not too dumb to maintain grades. Good thing daddy has a lot of money he can throw at the school board, otherwise you would've been tossed out on your a*s long ago,” Drew retorts, his eyes flashing in obvious anger. I didn't know what the issue was between this two, but it seemed to run deep.

With an angry gasp, Carmen leans onto our table, her hands splayed across its lacquered surface as she gets right up in Drew's face in an overtly hostile attempt to intimidate him. I could feel the rage radiating in waves off her from across the table, and knew she was about to go in for the kill. “Listen, homo boy …”

And at that I'd had enough. It's not that I didn't think Drew could handle himself - he seemed to know what he was doing - it's just that I hated when people used sexual orientation as an insult. “Let me interrupt you there, Barbie. Who Drew may or may not be attracted to is none of your damn business. And certainly not an insult. I don't walk around calling you hetero, as if it was a dirty word, do I?”

Furious eyes meet mine as Barbie tries to scorch me with a look. As if I could ever be afraid of someone made of plastic. “Who the hell are you?”

“Drew's friend,” I reply simply.

“Well, Drew's friend, let me give you a little warning. Your friend here? He's Academy trash. The lowest dredges on the social scale. So you might want to think long and hard about who you align yourself with - unless you want to spend the next year of your life with a giant target on your back, that is.”

Shifting in my chair so I can lean in closer to her, I give her a meaningful look and say in a pointed tone, “Oh, I'm pretty sure I recognize trash when I see it.”

What her reply to that would've been, I'll never know. The librarian chose that moment to come investigate the commotion in our back corner. Carmen and her entourage took that as their cue to depart, though not before pinning me with a look that I'm sure was meant to be intimidating, but instead came off as comical.

I knew I'd just made an enemy, but like everything else lately I couldn't bring myself to care. Nothing she could do to me could ever compare to the misery I'd already gone through.

Surprising me, Drew reached over the table and grabbed my hand, squeezing it until he was sure he had my full attention. “What do you think you're doing?”

His words came out in a hiss, and the vehemence in his voice caught me off guard. “What's wrong?” I ask, trying to make sense out of his reaction.

“Carmen and her cronies are nothing to scoff at. With just a few words they can make your life here at the Academy a living hell, and you just put yourself at the top of their list. This wasn't your fight, you shouldn't have jumped in.”

I give him a long, steady look before answering, so he'll know how serious I am. “Drew, trust me when I say that nothing she can say or do could ever be enough to make me regret what just happened there.”

“You don't know Carmen. Give it some time after she's had you on her radar and then say that to me,” he says, but most of the fire's gone out of his voice.

“Are you going to tell me why you're on her radar?” I ask, even as I can guess.

With long-suffering sigh, he answers, “Last summer some of the Academy elite saw me out at the 7^th street commons on a date with a guy. It might not have been such a big deal if they hadn't walked up on us as we were kissing. Word spread and last year I became public enemy number one. Even my friends who'd known about my sexual orientation and hadn't cared up until that point abandoned me. No one wanted to be friends with someone with such a big target permanently attached to their back.”

“I'm so sorry,” I say, meaning it. I can't begin to imagine what it must've been like to have all of his friends turn on him right when he needed them the most. “I know it's cliched and won't really make you feel better, but if they walked away from you like that then they're a bunch of a******s.”

He gives me a brief smile, but just as quickly it disappears again. “So what about you? Now's your chance to run. We just met. You owe me no loyalty. Walk away now and your life will be a lot easier. No one, not even myself, will hold it against you for doing so.”

I can't help it, I roll my eyes at him. “Oh ye, of little faith,” I say dramatically, hand to heart to emphasize my point. “You're stuck with me now.”

The smile returns, but I can see he's withholding judgment, waiting to see how I'll react once Malibu Barbie and the Stacies turn their attention on me. Shrugging at the doubt in his eyes, I know that only time will prove me right and so I let it go.

Just then the bell rings, bringing about an end to the subject. “Sit with me at lunch?” he asks as we gather our things.

“How do you know we have lunch together?” I ask, curious despite myself.

“Because all upperclassmen do,” he explains with an air of exasperation, as he tries to get me to focus. “Lunch?” he asks again, as we start to head out the door.

“Sure,” I say, happy to have someone to sit with. I think lunch is every new kid's worst fear. No one wants to have to walk into that cafeteria not understanding the social structures in place, with no one at their back and no real way to break into the already determined packs. You might as well be dumped into a jungle, alone and unarmed, while hungry lions are roaming around.

Needless to say, it's not a safe place to be. I'd actually been planning to skip it altogether, hiding out in a bathroom or something instead. Drew's invitation saved me from an unhygienic lunch.

“First one there grabs a table,” Drew says, before we split off to find our respective classes.

Reviews

[Jade Leilani]

I admire your writing style and despite a few spelling errors that happen to the best of us....I find myself envious of the ability that flows from your pen. The flow of your stories is practically seamless. It seems that you are quite familiar with the English language and it's complexities which you have sorted into a spell-binding story. Thanks for sharing this.

[Silent Wolf]

This is a really good book, and I love the way it's written so far. I would love to read more, but there isn't more to read! D: Mind sending me a read request when you have more? Please and thank you!

[Riding the Rainbow]

I really like your Tess and Drew. I could totally see Tess' pain and when Drew got attacked by Carmen's words, I loved how Tess defended him from Malibu Barbie's cruel words. They're going to need each other now, especially because I'm sure that the fake bimbos are going to make Tess' life a living hell. Can't wait to read more;)