CHAPTER 2
I had a long therapy session with my journal that evening. Gran checked on me once, brought me some food. She must have guessed that I had a rough day and left me alone. She was always good about that.
I fell asleep late and woke up late, with the journal sprawled across my chest and sunlight peeking through the curtains. I glanced at the clock and groaned. I flung the journal across the room, crawled out of bed, dressed in the first thing I found, ran a brush through my hair and ultimately decided to pull it up in a ponytail.
I was going to be so late.
I grabbed my cell from the kitchen counter and checked it as I dashed out the door. There were two missed calls from Callie half an hour ago. She would have gone to school without me by now. That left me to walk, which would make me even later.
It was a fifteen minute brisk walk to the school. Second period classes were half way over by the time I got there. Racing through the front door, I didn’t see the boy until I crashed into him, and sent the contents in both of our arms scattering across the lobby.
I groaned again. This day was not off to a promising start.
I glanced at the victim of my clumsiness, a meek apology ready, and stopped with my mouth gaped open, the words stuck to my tongue.
Whoever he was, he was cute—like just stepped out of a magazine cute. His dirty blonde hair was purposefully and stylishly unruly. The jade hue of his eyes was so bold there was no way they could be real. A ring hooked his left eyebrow and I glimpsed part of a tattoo on the back of his neck, above the collar of his shirt. His clothes—faded and torn jeans and an Abercrombie t-shirt—fit as if they were made for him.
He could be the poster boy for chastity belts. His easy smile promised trouble, like he knew he was every father’s worse nightmare. The flash of a tongue ring drew my eyes to his mouth, and he beat me to an apology, since I was temporarily stunned.
“I’m sorry.” He stooped to pick up the mess at our feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
He had an accent I couldn’t place. And, my God, those eyes...
Where did this guy come from? He had to be the new kid. Callie was right. He was hot.
“I’m pretty sure I ran into you.” I picked up a few books that weren’t mine and handed them to him. “I’m running a little late.”
“That makes two of us.” He shrugged like he didn’t care, and I was sure he really didn’t. He handed me the strewn contents of my book bag and a blush rose on my cheeks, though I didn’t know why. Things could have been worse. It could have been a gym day and my sports bra had hit the floor at his feet. I should be grateful that it was only a pack of cheese-flavored crackers he held out to me. “Healthy lunch?”
“Better than the food the school tries to force on us,” I returned with a shrug.
He nodded like I had said something ingenious. “It really is horrible. My last school wasn’t this bad.”
Having collected our belongings, we both stood and started toward the office to check in. One of those annoying high school rules meant to keep us in line, and the adults in charge. Or so they thought.
“Where was your last school?” I asked, wondering about that accent I had detected.
Like everyone else, he was several inches taller than me and had to look down when he answered. “Colorado. Outside Aspen.” He would be a skier. No, snowboarder. He had that pot-smoking girl-on-each-arm snowboarder vibe.
“What brought you to middle of nowhere Boone?”
His gaze drifted ever so slightly before he looked at me. “I can’t pop that mystery bubble so soon, now can I?”
Death or divorce, I thought. Or...he almost had the edge of a foster kid, something that might make others uncomfortable, but I found familiar, like I recognized a kindred spirit. And, while I wasn’t the best interpreter of this sort of thing, I would swear he was flirting with me.
“Maybe I’ll solve the mystery someday,” I said. Correction: I was terrible at this sort of thing.
He returned a definitely flirtatious, and downright sexy, grin. “Yeah, maybe.”
He was nice enough, but a much better flirt than me, and I was relieved when we reached the office. The secretary looked up from her computer in that way all adults looked at teenagers when it was assumed they were up to no good.
“Excuses?” she asked without any preamble.
We both shook our heads and she sighed in annoyance. As she pulled out the tardy slips, she asked for our names. That was how I learned that his was Alec Sierra.
She didn’t bother to ask my name. She knew it. I was a frequent flyer through the office and had acquired a not-quite-a-trouble-maker-yet reputation. More like a thorn in their ass. After the accident, I had skyrocketed to infamy. Everyone knew who I was. Kristina Young. The smartass new chick— in a town where everyone has known each other since diapers—who had no family, lived with the strange but super sweet old lady the whole town adores, and walked away from the worst disaster to hit this town in thirty years.
Yep, the secretary definitely knew who I was. Even the new kid noticed.
After we were given the unexcused tardy lecture and ordered straight to our second period classes, we exited the office together. I barely took two steps before he swiped my excuse.
“Kristina Young,” he read out loud. He turned to me, his hand extended. “I’m Alec, but I guess you already know that. It’s nice to officially meet you, Kristina.”
I grimaced at the use of my full name, but took his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Alec,” I said. “And please, call me Kris.”
“Kris?” He cast me a sideways glance. “Don’t like your full name?”
“Despise it,” I said with exaggerated emphasis.
We reached his locker first and I stopped to wait for him as we talked about everything, and yet nothing. Next thing I knew, we were standing next to my locker, the door open, my books unmoved, still chatting away. I heard of his confusion about foods popular in this part of the country, some language barriers he was adjusting to, what teachers he had, and what neighborhood he had moved to—not far from mine actually. I was in the process of dishing on the habits of certain teachers when the bell rang.
I jumped and glanced at him with widened eyes. He shrugged at me as students brushed past us, hurrying to their third period classes.
“I’m sure we didn’t miss anything,” he said. “I had more fun doing this anyway.”
I retrieved the books I would need and shot him a small smile. “Me too.”
He noted the incredulity in my voice, and feigned a broken heart. “Surprised by that?”
“I just—” I stammered. “I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just been a rough week for me.”
I saw the flicker of recognition on his face, and knew that he had heard about the accident. It was the curse of going to a small town school. Everyone knew everything. For a moment, I wondered what the others had told him. Then, I decided it didn’t matter.
With a secretive smile, he said, “Well, that’s about to change.”
“What?”
He leaned forward like he had a secret to share with me and dropped his voice. “People can’t help but have fun around me.”
That I could believe.
“And you’re on my radar now, so I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” he added as he backed up, hands in his pockets. With a parting grin, he turned and walked away.
A cluster of passing junior girls slowed and stared. I kept my eyes on his back as he navigated the hallway, and ignored the stares with perfected indifference. Half way down the hall, he glanced over his shoulder and shot me a killer grin. For the first time in weeks, the smile I returned wasn’t a forced one.