CHAPTER ONE: BAD APPLES

Harold Wyatt drummed his thick fingers impatiently on the top of his mahogany desk, eyeing me with mild intolerance. “Another facial piercing, Miss Baxter?” he asked, stopping to fold his weathered hands between a cup of pens and a large stack of manila folders. The top one had my name scribbled on it in black Sharpie.
    What he was referring to was my new Monroe- a small stud on the left side of my upper lip- which I had pierced over the weekend.
    “The silver protects me from faeries,” I lied.
    “Faeries?” He raised a bushy grey eyebrow. “Like Tinkerbelle?”
    “Not exactly. Faeries are malicious, evil creatures. You see, Mom and I have what is called ‘Sight’, which means that we can see them. They know it, so I have to take precautions as to keep myself safe-”
    He cut me off, not buying a single word of my fabrication. “Please take it out.”
    “It’s against my belief.”
    He sighed, moving his fingers to massage his temples. “You’re walking on thin ice, Riley. I allowed you to keep the blue in your hair. But all of the metal that you insist on putting in your face is not going to help to give this school a good reputation.”
    Ever since I started attending Hickory High, Harold and I saw one another on a weekly basis, putting us on a first name acquaintanceship. Even though I was constantly in the principal’s hot seat, we had established a level of understanding of one another. And I have to admit, his leniency for some of my behavior was remarkable.  
    “My mother is a very opened minded person, you know,” I said, while folding the pink slip of paper that had excused me from first period Algebra in half. The conversation was beginning to bore me, and I wanted to be able to talk to my friends during passing time before second hour.
    A ray from the morning sun slipped through the creases in the blinds behind his desk. The light caught his face at just the right angle, exposing his deep wrinkles, giving a glimpse at his age. “Yes, she is indeed.” He continued to rub small circles. “Maybe a bit too open minded.”
    I stiffened, ready to go on the defense. Even though Jennifer had lived in Hickory for over twenty years now, some of the residents still had an issue with her chosen lifestyle. Personally, I was proud of my adopted mother for being so open to her sexuality. And even more for crossing the line of interracial relationships. Her girlfriend, Randy, reminded me of young Halle Berry.
    “Is there something wrong with acceptance?” I kept my voice hard, tart.
    He bent forward, his glasses sliding down, catching on the crook of his nose. His deep grey eyes caught mine. Mr. Wyatt reminded me of a grandfather in a way, and I almost felt ashamed for questioning him, but I knew that bigotry was wrong.
    I squirmed awkwardly in the polyester chair, biting against my left lip ring. Silence isn’t golden, it’s insanity.
    “Not another piercing, understood?”
    I silently nodded.
    “You may go back to class now.”
    As quickly as I could, I gathered my belongings and dashed towards the door.
    “Oh, and Riley?” he called after me. I stopped, throwing an anxious glance over my shoulder. He scribbled something in my folder, then slipped it to the bottom of the pile. “Faeries are sensitive to iron, not silver. Brush up on your mythology.”
    A smile unwillingly crept to my lips. “I’ll make sure to do that, Harold.”
    Class had already let out by the time I walked through the front office and made it to the second floor. I only had a few minutes to get to my locker to retrieve my books for my next period English class.
    I shambled through the crowded hallway, occasionally knocking shoulders with classmates along the way. Someone in much more of a hurry bustled past, throwing me off balance and I toppled, falling backwards into a row of lockers.
    Everything that I had been holding fell from my arms and landed onto the scuffed tiles, only to be kicked in different directions by assorted feet.
    I mumbled a string of some colorful choice words under my breath and bent down on my knees to gather my dispersed belongings. I piled my books against the wall to keep them from getting knocked around again, then did a brief inventory. The only thing missing, to my great horror, was my journal. Panic seized me, and I spun in flustered circles, scanning the ground, but it was no where to be seen.
    “Excuse me, but is this what you’re looking for?” a soft voice directed in front of me, pushing the worn, black leather bound book beneath of my nose.
    Hope welled in my chest. “Thank you!” I gasped, reaching forward. Before taking it, I followed a tattered pair of red sneakers up thin legs, to a white studded belt, a tight black and red striped jacket, and finally where such a wonderfully dressed body was attached to an unfamiliar face.
    Instead of reclaiming my journal from his outstretched hand, I gawked.
    The boy looked around my age, maybe a year younger, with a pale, heart shaped face that was mostly hidden behind a head full of shaggy black hair. One eye was veiled behind his thick bangs, but the other gazed intensely back into mine. It was the brightest blue that I had ever seen. He gave me a long, conscious look.
    “Here,” he pushed it at me again.
    I shook my head, knocking off the sudden, embarrassing haze that had clouded my mind. I mustered an apology, then took back my most personal possession.
    Courteously, he collected my books with one arm, then reached for my hand with the other. I deliberated, then took his hand.
    The coldness of his skin caused a chill to run up my arms. But that wasn’t the only feeling curling around my bones. An unnatural bellicosity hit me at the center, and the urge to shove him backwards was overwhelming.
    The warning bell rang. The shrill sound was enough to startle me back to reality. I dropped his hand and my gaze, and took a step backwards. He handed me my things and I hugged them to my chest.
    “Are you new here?” I blurted when he began to walk away.
    “Yes.” He was short with his answer.
    “My name is Riley,” I said, shifting the stuff in my arms nervously. “If you need any help finding your classes, let me know.”
    The boy nodded, but the action seemed mechanical. Instead of initializing further conversation, he silently walked off down the hallway. I couldn’t help but watch him as he left, still in a bit of a stupor.
    An arm slid around my neck, and I startled, taking in an accidental, exaggerated breath of air. Behind me, the bell-like chime of Lexi’s laugh rang through the now nearly empty hallway.
    “What are you doing? You’re going to be late for class,” she said.
    “Sorry. I’m zoning.”
    “Know what helps for that?” She shoved me forward, forcing me to start walking.
    I strained my neck, searching for him still, but he obviously was gone. “Adderall?”
    “Seeing our new transfer student. He is F-I-N-E.”
    “Yeah, I know. I’ve already met him.”
    “Really? When?” She looked at me excitedly.
    “Just now.”
    “Oh,” she paused, “the awkward emo kid. Ew. I’m talking about the other one.”
    “We have two?” I questioned. “How did we get two new kids here?”
    She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Beats me.”
    “They’ve got to be related,” I said.
    “There is no way. They look too different. The other one is tall, blond, and handsome… Kind of like an Abercrombie and Fitch model, except paler.”
    We walked into English just as the tardy bell rung.
    “Girls, get to your seats.” Mr. Glory scolded us from his desk, barely looking up from the stack of papers in front of him.
    “Sorry Mr. G,” Lexi attempted to throw him her signature innocent smile, but he was completely oblivious to it.
    I slid into my designated chair beside Jakoby, who was slouched down, headphones blaring. He gave my new piercing a thumbs up. Lexi took her seat in front of us, next to Payton, the head cheerleader, who surprisingly didn’t live up to the typical high school stereotype.
    “Is there anyone missing?” Mr. Glory yelled, still considering his papers. When no one spoke, he scribbled something on the clipboard on the side of his desk, then shuffled what he had been working for in one neat pile, tapped it on the desk and paper clipped it together.
    “Please open your textbooks to page seventy-nine,” he said, turning to the chalkboard. “Today you’re going to silently,” he emphasized the word, “read chapter six, on Henry Fielding. And when I say ‘silent’ I mean keep your voices low enough so that I can’t hear you not paying attention to the material.” In the right corner of the board, he wrote the page numbers. Below that, he wrote the assignment. The entire class groaned. “Happy Monday,” he said, flicking the stick of chalk lazily to the metal tray and returning to his desk.
    Jakoby jerked his thumb through the playlist on his iPod. Lexi and Payton began writing notes back and forth. I sighed, deciding to just get the work over with, rather than spend my night hovering over textbooks. Thanks to my unexpected visit to the office, I had a bunch of Algebra problems to make up.
    Mr. Glory grumbled in the front of the room. “Tardy, Mr. Kline,” he said. The room became loud with the crumple of papers and scraping of chairs, everyone eager.
    Lexi swiveled in her chair. “Wow,” she breathed, mesmerized, her head following the boy as he cavalierly approached our teacher.
    Unlike the reaction he had gotten from the rest of the class, our teacher barely glanced up from his work. He reflexively held his palm facing upward, waiting for the slip of paper initiating the newcomer.
    The boy crossed his arms, his stance rather arrogant for someone extraneous. Mr. Glory skimmed over it, handed it back, and pointed him to an empty seat across the aisle from Lexi and I, beside my friend Emiliee.
    Condescension oozed from this stranger. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention towards Lexi, even though as I tried to bring up after school plans, she was so entranced by the new kids every move that my words came up as nothing but mute to her.
    Despite having the attention of every person in the room, he walked with complete, flawless confidence. The boys all glowered at him. The girls stared dreamily.
    He casually sank into his seat and kicked his feet up on the desk. On the other side of his grey Vans, Neil looked up from his textbook in disgust, but didn’t comment. Next to him, Emiliee squirmed, fidgeting with her short hair, pathetically pretending to be engrossed in the reading, though I noticed her eyes slide sideways to appraise him.
    Her nervousness must have amused him, because I saw a proud smile crawl across his face. Cavalierly, he plucked the book from her fingers and set it down in front of her. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I noticed his lips moving rapidly. Emiliee’s face brightened, excitement clear in her almond eyes. She ran her fingers though her copper hair again, then pointed to the book, and waved a hand in the air the way she typically does when talking about something that intrigues her.
    “He is gorgeous,” Lexi cooed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
    “And extremely full of himself,” I noted aloud.
    An irritated blush touched her cheeks. “You haven’t even talked to him yet. How would you know?” she snapped back.
    Payton flipped a long, flat ironed strand of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder, then bit down on the cap of her pen, contemplating. She scanned him up and down, then shrugged. “With a face like that, he has every right to be confident.”
    “Look at his body language. He has been in this room maybe five minutes, and he’s already womanizing,” I pointed out. He was laughing, his hand gently touching Emiliee’s shoulder, his fingers toying the one accented blond lock in her hair.
    Lexi glowered at the other girl. “Maybe he’s just very friendly.” The tone of her voice was all venom. I snorted at how territorial she already was.
    I pulled my feet under me in my chair, set my textbook in my lap, and tried to focus on the chapter that we were supposed to be reading. I skimmed the page, but the only thing that really registered in my brain besides the one picture was a bunch of letters.
    “I think they are talking about you, Riley,” Payton said.
    I tilted my head, feeling my eyebrows pull down in confusion. “What?”
    She candidly pointed, and I followed her thin finger.
    Interested, light grey eyes caught mine, holding them. I could feel my heart wrought, my breath catch. The way he held my gaze made me feel like he was trying to penetrate my mind, invade my personal thoughts.
    I quickly blinked. The small muscle movement allowed me to break eye contact. I ducked my head, feeling a thin tear run warm down my cheek. My entire body trembled.
    Unease was racing through me. The paranoia was much more intense than embarrassment. I turned my back to him.
    “Riley, he really is staring.”
    “Probably because I have blue hair and a face full of metal,” I suggested. “What do you expect me to do about it, anyways?” There was no way that I was about to face him again.
    “Talk to him,” Payton encouraged, smiling ruefully. She twiddled her fingers at him, then nudged a giggling Lexi. They both ducked their heads together, whispering, shooting him coy glances from beneath their dark eyelashes.
    Curious, I turned to see if he was amused by their obnoxious behavior, but he was staring at me instead. I narrowed my eyes and he winked at me. My heart jolted, and I felt blood rush to my cheeks. I adverted my attention back to the book in my lap; nothing but hundreds of tiny, black letters. My head began to hurt.
    I could feel his stare burrowing into my back. I felt like a coward, hiding behind my hair, chewing on my lip ring to keep from turning around and screaming.
    Then, irritation set in. This was just an average person, and it was irrational for me to be so distraught. I spun around in my chair. “What?” I snapped.
    “Hello,” he said, giving me a wide grin through pale lips, behind them perfect teeth. With a flick of his head, he knocked his ash-blonde hair away from his face.
    I stared at him, dumbfounded.
    “I’m Sebastian,” he continued, pulling his chair across the aisle. “I’m new here.”
    I scooted my chair away, closer to Jakoby. He shot me a humored look, then turned up the volume of his music.
    “Emiliee said that you’re Mariah Baxter.”
    “Riley, actually,” I corrected him.
    As he continued to watch me. I squirmed uncomfortably. I didn’t like the way his gaze felt: antagonizing, curious pressure. I nervously bit my lip ring a little too hard, and it pinched into my skin. I winced, a hint of metallic flavor flooding my mouth. I pushed the tip of my tongue against the cut to slow the bleeding.
    His nostrils flared, and to my relief, he leaned away.
    Payton took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “So, Sebastian, where did you move here from?” she asked.
    “Michigan.” He leaned over and grabbed my pencil from the crease of the open spine in my textbook, twiddling it. I watched it as it tumbled back and forth, winding smoothly through his long fingers.
    “And what brings you to this part of New Jersey?” Lexi chimed in.
    A low chuckle vibrated deep in his throat. “My grades were slipping, so my dad sent me here to live with some extended family. He thought that maybe if I made a new group of friends, my attitude would change,” he explained. Slowly, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. “I told him that I was a bad apple. You can try to wash the fruit, but it won’t take away the bitter taste.”
    I turned my head slightly to shoot Lexi a frantic look. I widened my eyes, but she just used her index fingers to trace a small heart in the air. Guess my S.O.S. came off as swooning.
    “So, Mariah,” his attention was on me again, “how old are you?”
    “Riley,” I amended again. “No one uses my real name.”
    “It is informal not to,” he argued.
    “I’m only seventeen. You’re allowed to be informal.”
    On the other side of the desks, Payton intervened by extended a slim arm. “By the way, I’m Payton: head cheerleader and chairwoman of the student council. If you need help with anything, I’m your go-to-girl.”
    Sebastian took her hand, holding it for a few seconds longer than appropriate.
    “I’m Alexis,” Lexi leaned closer, offering him her perfectly manicured hand as well. “But you can call me Lexi.” He eyed her more enticingly, before taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on the tips of her knuckles.
    “Pleasure,” he smiled.
    A beam of utter bliss flushed her artificially tanned face, her pale blue eyes glinting in delight. She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, leaning into him. As she did so, she immodestly expanded her chest to reveal her well sized bust. The lace of her bra inched from beneath of her viciously low cut shirt when she moved, purposely exposing more of herself in attempts of alluring him.
    Like any teenage boy, at the movement his eyes shot downwards, locking on her breast with approval.
    I snorted in disgust when she placed the tip of her nail between her front teeth, biting it playfully. Her full lips tugged amiably upwards, her eyes smoldering. “Do you mind if I see your schedule? Maybe we have another class together?”
    He slid a folded square of paper in front of her. “Maybe we will have biology together,” he said mischievously.
    “Well,” she blushed, aiming her attention towards the paper, “unfortunately we only have one more class together, and that isn’t it. But it looks like you have the end of the day with Riley.”
    “Oh boy!” I was sarcastic, not bothering to hide it. All that I needed to make this day better was my friend pawning the new kid off on me for her own immoral desires. Even though I had barely talked to him, he excreted first class jackass.
    Both Lexi and Payton shot me poisonous glares. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse our friend Riley. She hasn’t fully developed her manners yet.” Lexi tried to laugh, but it came out so stressed that it cracked. “Her bark is much worse than her bite, I promise.”
    Something about that comment seemed to intrigued Sebastian, because he perked up. He turned to me again. “So, have you ever killed a vampire before?” he asked. The question came out so nonchalant, as if it was something normal to bring up in casual conversation.
    That obviously wasn’t the kind of thing that gets brought up in casual conversation. Especially with my group of friends. I gave him a quizzical look, but he only stared back curiously.
    “Uhhh… no, I honestly can’t say that I have. Why?”
    “Just making conversation. Let me give you a few important key words: staking, decapitation, sunlight, fire, and holy water.” He pressed the pencil into my palm, positioning my fingers around it in certain spots. “Staking is a lot more difficult than Buffy makes it seem. Some vampires have harder bodies than others. You’re better off with a metal rod, because stakes made of wood generally aren’t very strong. Even though wood immobilizes vampires. Like this pencil could probably work against a new born vampire, but you need to know the correct pressure points to keep it from snapping in your hands or in the chest cavity before it can hit the heart.”
    Sweat beaded in the crease of my hand. The pencil started to slip in my fingers. He moved my arm and positioned the lead tip over his heart. “This is where you need to aim. Right in the center. And you better make it count, because if you screw up, you’re most likely going to die.”
    The situation had gotten too awkward. I couldn’t take it anymore. I jerked away, dropping the pencil to the floor with a hollow pink. “Duly noted for future vampire slaying,” I said breathlessly, though it was meant to sound more acerbic.
    Sebastian flashed a quick close mouthed grin, bent down to pluck up the pencil, and handed it back to me. “I just want you to have a fair fight, or else it is no fun.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?” I inquired, leaning away. I shoved the pencil deep into my bag to prevent any other mischief.
    My chair jerked sideways. I threw my arms down, grasping the bottom to keep from flying off. He slid an arm around the back, behind me, leaning in to catch my anxious stare. “Believe me when I say that there are by far more anomalies in this world than you think, Mariah.”
    Before I could question him, the bell rang. I jumped up as quickly as I could, grabbed my belongings, and darted out the door. I didn’t wait around for Lexi and Emiliee like usual. I wanted to put as much distance between Sebastian and myself as possible, so I headed towards third period alone.
    Once in the crowded hallway, lost in the sea of students, I slowed my pace, taking deep breaths. My hands were shaking, making holding my books much more tedious than it should have been. Everything about Sebastian rubbed me entirely the wrong way. I felt nervous and insecure.
    When I met Sami at the bottom of the north stairwell, I immediately launched into details of my first two hours of school, not bothering to censor myself. A majority of my words seemed to all fall short to her, though. She was too busy scanning the hallway.
    “Have you seen Walter at all today? I can’t get a hold of him. I’m getting worried.”
     I gave her an annoyed look. “Can’t say that I have.”
    “Maybe his phone is off.”
    We  made our way down the art hallways and stopped outside the double doors of our room, seeing that it was completely deserted. She groaned. “Did Miss June say that we were meeting somewhere else today? I don’t remember her mentioning it last week. You’d think that she would have at least put up a sign.”
    “Today is just full of surprises,” I sighed. “Screw it, I’m skipping.”
    “After the principal talked to you about that not even an hour ago?”
    “Ah, correction; he talked to me about my addiction to needles. He didn’t say anything about skipping classes.”
    “Bad idea,” she warned.
    I shrugged. “My day has progressively been getting worse. Might as well take fifty minutes for my mental health.”
    “What am I supposed to do?”
    “Text someone and ask where they are.”
    “And you will be going where?”
    I shrugged. Spinning on my heels, I started walking towards the exit doors.

†  © †  ©  †  © †

I evaded the windows, stealthily maneuvering my way towards the parking lot. My plan was just to lay down in the back seat of my car until lunch.
    But as I rounded the corner of the school, I almost ran into someone. My heart fell. I was caught. Crap. How was I going to talk myself out of this one?
    “Skipping class again?”
    I let out a large breath of relief. “What exactly is it that you’re doing?” I retorted at Sami’s boyfriend.
    “I’m not cutting class,” Walter said defensively.
    “Your girlfriend has been looking for you all day. Next time you actually decide to go to class, you might want to find her. Or at least answer her text.”
    “I told you, I’m not cutting class. I’ll find her at lunch.”
    A gust of wind knocked me sideways, blowing my hair around my face. The weather had been decent earlier this morning, but now the sky was turning opaque, seemingly ready to storm.
    I grumbled something about stupid wind and parted my hair back out of my eyes.
    Walter stiffened. His pupils dilated, consuming the eyeball entirely. He leaned into me, nostrils flaring.
    I stumbled back, falling into the building in the hasty movement. “Did you just smell me?” I demanded.
    He straightened himself. “No.”
    “I’m pretty sure that you just did. What’s wrong with your eyes? Walter, are you on drugs?”
    He ignored all of the questions and stepped closer to me; I never realized how tall he actually was, until he had me backed flat against a wall. I shrunk into myself.
    “Have you met anyone new lately?”
    “We had two new kids transfer today,” I quickly told him.
    “What are their names?”
    “I only know Sebastian Kline.”
    Something that looked like comprehensive shock fleeted across his face. He leaned forward and placed his large hands on my shoulders, holding me down. The pressure hurt. “Don’t talk to him, Riley. The kid is bad news.”
    I laughed, but it was strained. “You’re telling me. How do you know him? He said he was from Michigan.”
    “We go far back,” hatred saturated his voice.
    Peeked by curiosity, I opened my mouth to question, but a whistle blew loudly behind us. I cringed, immediately recognizing the noise. Coach Warner came walking across the lawn.
    “CADET, DO YOU HAVE AUTHORITY TO BE OUT HERE AND NOT IN CLASS?” he demanded.
    For some unknown reason, Coach always yelled when he spoke. Rumor was that he was retired from some top secret branch of the military, but no one ever had been brave enough to ask him- the man had more than a few screws loose.
    I racked my brain for a fathomable lie, but came up blank. I shook my head. “Nope. Just wanted some fresh air.”
    “I SHOULD SEND YOU TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE RIGHT NOW,” he continued, folding his thick arms across his chest. One hand stroked his mangy beard. “I’M LETTING YOU OFF WITH A WARNING. GET BACK INSIDE BEFORE IT RAINS.”
    “Thanks, Coach. See you in a few hours.” I wasn’t stupid enough to argue with his generosity. I turned for Walter, but he was gone.
    I didn’t go straight to class once I was inside. I headed for the library, hoping my teacher hadn’t chosen that location for today’s class. As my luck held, it was vacant.
    I spent the next half hour curled up in one of the large plush chairs, doodling in my sketch book.
    Lunch excluded, the rest of the day went by slow, uneventful. It could have been because I was annoyed with my friends; because of the constantly darkening sky; because I was dreading my last hour of school.
    When I first got to gym, I thought that maybe Lexi had read Sebastian’s schedule wrong. After I had changed into the required white shirt and blue shorts and plopped down on the bleachers, Sebastian was no where in sight. I relaxed a bit.
    But that was only wishful thinking, because a few minutes later he was lithely jogging across the gymnasium in my direction.
    He bounded up the bleachers, taking two steps at a time. “Nice to see you again,” he grinned.
    “If only I could say the same.”
    I kicked my feet up on the seat, so he sat behind me instead, leaning over my shoulder when he spoke. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
    “No, because we never got off in the first place.”
    He snickered, and it took me a moment to realize how obscurely I had chosen my words. I face palmed myself. “Oh, grow up,” I grumbled through my fingers. “That really doesn’t improve your impression on me.”
    Coach Warner strode through the gym, the soles of his white sneakers making squeaks against the polished wood as he walked.
    “ATTENTION!” he yelled out, his gruff voice echoing in the cavernous room. “BECAUSE OF THE RAIN, WE WILL BE PLAYING INSIDE TODAY. AND SINCE THE ROOM ISN’T LARGE ENOUGH FOR GAMES OF ONE-ON-ONE, IT’S TIME TO PARTNER UP.”
    I closed my eyes tightly, because I knew what was coming. “Fine,” I snapped, before Sebastian could beat me to the punch. I pushed up off of the bench and stomped towards the pile of tennis rackets in the far corner. I held one and shoved the other into Sebastian’s chest.
    A victorious smirk played across his face. He used his free hand to brush back the hair from his eyes. “I don’t know how to hold a racket properly. Care to show me?”
    Sly, new kid. Too bad that wasn’t about to work. I wrapped my hands around the shaft. “Like this. Easy.”
    “I think I need you to position my hands for me.”
    “What are you, a girl? Figure it out yourself. I’m not touching you.”
    “You’re not a very good teacher.” He moved closer, his chest almost touching mine. Instinctively, I threw my racket out, pushing him back as far of a length as my arm and the racket combined would allow.
    “Back off.”
    “BAXTER. KLINE. HURRY IT UP!” Coach demanded from the bottom bleacher. He propped his clipboard on his knees, but I doubt whatever he was working on had anything to do with our class. Most likely he was working out the kinks in the play for the football game Friday.
    I motioned for Sebastian to follow me across the “court” to where another set of kids were waiting for someone to play against. I positioned myself in the left square on our side and told Sebastian to stay in the right. “Just hit the ball over the net,” I said.
    “And?”
    “Don’t miss.”
    Sebastian took his stance, holding his racket out like a baseball bat.
    I had always hated gym. I wasn’t bad at it, it was actually the one class that I excelled in, which is why I detested it. The obstinate athlete in me had a hard time accepting defeat, so I verbally instructed Sebastian how to hold the tennis racket properly.
    Sebastian wasn’t as bad of a player as he had made himself out to be. Each time the ball came his way, he hit it dead center. His movements were agile, smooth. On occasion he moved so quickly that I felt as if he had transported spaces.
    At the end of the hour, we walked off the court victorious. “Good game,” he held a hand out to me.
    I shrugged and gave him the cold shoulder as I sauntered past to go get my things.
    I put my regular clothes back on and shoved my gym clothes into my designated locker. Not wanting to wait around and make stressed conversation with Sebastian, I slipped out the emergency exit door in the back of the locker room a few minutes early. If anyone noticed, they didn’t care.
    After I made a brief stop by my locker, halfway across the commons, Sebastian found me. The moment we made eye contact I hastened my walk, but he caught up to me quicker than I expected.
    “I have a confession!” he yelled, jogging until he was pacing me.
    I had no other choice than to pacify him. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
    “Wholly crap, you walk fast.”
    “Wow, that’s a great confession.” I knew that wasn’t what he really intended to say, but it was a good opportunity for a segue. “Want to know mine? Even though really, it’s more along the lines of common sense; I’m obviously not interested, and you can’t seem to take the hint.”
    “Mariah, I’m not stupid. I’m persistent. But that isn’t what I was referring to. What I meant to say is… I know how to play tennis.”
    By the way his eyes brightened, it was apparent that he thought he was being cute.
    I came to an abrupt stop. Someone bumped into my shoulder and grumbled as they walked around.
    “I kind of knew that the entire time,” I told him. He moved too quick, hit the ball too perfectly to have never played before. For all I knew, he was probably on a pro team at some point of his life.
    “I was only faking it so that I’d have an excuse to talk to you. I want us to be friends.”
    “I don’t want to be friends with you,” I said bluntly.
    “That’s what frustrates me. Why?”
    “Does it really matter?”
    “Yes, actually. You barely know me. I think that you should at least give me a chance.”
    I shot him a dirty look from the corners of my eyes. “I’ve already seen and heard enough to make a good assessment of your personality.”
    “Which would be?”
    “Sorry, but self-absorbed womanizer isn’t my type.”
    “Why should I be judged for being admired?” He tried to look down at me innocently, but I could see the mockery straight through it.
    “I’m not judging you for that. I’m judging you because of the fact that you feed off of attention.”
    I spotted Sami standing alone by the main office, looking around the hallway nervously. Sebastian started to follow me over but I shook my head no. “I have to talk to Sami,” I said. He didn’t seem to get it. “Privately,” I added.
    She was playing with the sleeves of her cardigan, but still managed a small, insecure wave as I approached. Then she tilted her head curiously. “Riley,” she greeted me. “And…?”
    “Hello. I am Sebastian.” He took her hand, but didn’t keep a hold of it inappropriately the way that he had her sisters.
    She gasped and instantly retracted it into her chest. “Oh,” she paused, her expression going from nervous to inquisitive, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
    “Really now? That’s very interesting.” He touched his fingertips to his lips, suppressing a smile. “How is Walter?”
    “So, you know Walter?” I pressed the question, curious to his reaction, and if the answer would be just as spiteful as Walter’s.
    “I guess you could say that we’re old friends. Wouldn’t you agree, Samantha?”
    She seemed to struggle swallowing. “Yeah,” she muttered.
    “Will you give him my regards?” He caught her hand again and placed a kiss on her wrist. She jerked away, her entire body trembling.
    Seeing her slowly becoming derailed, I intervened. “Well, we need to go. Bye.” I wrapped my arm around Sami’s and tugged her towards the exit doors.
    Once we were safe from earshot, I turned to look at her. “What was that all about?” I questioned. “You look sick.”
    “I know him. Well, I don’t know him, but I know of him. Riley, how did he get transferred here? I hope he isn’t stalking Walter.”
    “I’m curious as to how they even know one another.”
    “I… Umm… I think they used to go to school together. You know that Walter isn’t from here originally.”
    I knew that, but I never had really cared to press for further background information on the kid. He may have been my best friends boyfriend, but that didn’t mean that him and I were exactly on buddy-buddy terms.
    “I ran into him earlier, when I was skipping class,” I confessed. When she gave me her full attention, I continued. “He sounded really angry that Sebastian was here.”
    “I was afraid of that. Oh, dear…”
    “Is everything alright?”
    “I hope. I need to go find Walter. Bye, Riley. See you tomorrow.” With that, she turned and ran back into the school, leaving me alone just outside the entrance doors.

†  © †  ©  †  © †    

I couldn’t concentrate. I cleaned my room; I took the dog for a walk; I tried to draw but everything came out wrong; I even resorted to putting on Randy’s yellow rubber gloves and scrubbed the kitchen until it was spotless.
    Amidst scrubbing, I heard someone walk in behind me and open the refrigerator, but didn’t turn.
    “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Randy asked.
    I scoffed. “Nothing’s wrong,” I scrubbed the counter harder, noticing a small brown fleck. “Why would you think that something’s wrong?”
    “Well, for starters you put the remote in the refrigerator.”
    I turned around and she pulled the master remote out of the fruit drawer. “Second, you’ve been talking under your breath- loudly, may I add- for the past half an hour. Who’s Sebastian?”
    “Psh, who’s Sebastian?” I countered back without thinking. I let out an exasperated breath and turned my attention to the sink. I began scrubbing vigorously again.
    Randy slowly pried the sponge from my fingers and placed it on the counter. She crossed her arms and gave me the scornful look that parents typically give when they know their offspring is lying. I made a grab for the sponge but she knocked my hand away.
    “Spill.”
    “I’d rather not. I’m trying to clean, not make more of a mess.”
    “Ri…”
    “What?”
    She rose an eyebrow.
    I groaned an gave in. “There’s this boy.”
    “Uh-oh. A boy.”
    “Mom…”
    “I’m sorry. A boy. Continue.”
    “He’s new at school. He’s really weird, and he won’t leave me alone.”
    A sympathetic smile played her lips. “Well, Ri, how would you feel if you were the new kid and had no friends?” she tried to put me into the scenario. I understood what she was trying to do, but I didn’t agree with it.
    “It’s not like that at all. Actually, exactly the opposite. All the girls are in love with him. Including Lexi and Emiliee. It’s really annoying.”
    “Well maybe he doesn’t like the attention. That could be why he likes you. Boys don’t like girls who make things easy. And who knows, maybe he just wants a friend.”
    I snorted. “Boys are stupid. I’ll never understand them.”
    A sheepish smile crossed her face. “Boys are nothing but trouble. That’s why I switched to girls.” She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my forehead.
    I had to smile, too.