“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice says from above.
Ouch. I blink, sucking in some much-needed air. That fucking hurt.
The guy winces, making me realize that I must have said it out loud. “I really am so sorry. Here, let me.”
He squats down to my level and starts picking up books and stacking them together.
“It’s okay, I was a bit d—” I try to grab one of the books, but his hand is already there. We reach for it at the same time, our fingers brushing together.
Warmth shoots up my arm at the touch, burning my skin. I suck in a gulp of air, my head snapping up. Our eyes lock, his dark irises widening slightly.
Pulling my hand back quickly, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Distracted.”
The guy shakes his head. His light brown hair is cut short, barely peeking out from under the black baseball hat that’s turned backward on his head. “I should have watched where I was going.”
Grabbing the stack of books, he jumps to his feet easily and extends his free hand down. He’s tall even for a guy, probably over six feet. He flashes me a mischievous grin, and I swear his eyes sparkle in amusement. “I promise I’m not going to let you fall.”
My heart skips a beat at the sound of his deep voice, my palms turning sweaty.
What the hell is up with that?
As inconspicuously as possible—as if that’s even plausible at this point—I dry my hands against the side of my leg before placing one in his.
His fingers clasp around mine, strong and secure. Like the rest of him, his palm is big, enveloping mine completely. A jolt of electricity spreads from his hand and into mine, making my heart beat faster. He helps hoist me up but doesn’t let go instantly. Instead, his fingers linger, brushing against the inside of my wrist.
A shiver runs through my whole body, and my blood starts to race. I can feel a warmth spreading through my body and making my cheeks flush.
He looks at me more closely. “Are you okay?”
Nope, not at all.
I pull my hand out of his, stuttering, “S-sure.”
Get outta here, a little voice inside my head screams in warning, so that’s exactly what I do. I take my books from his hands, making sure not to touch him again, and clench them tightly to my chest.
“Thank you so much for your help,” I say, forcing out a smile.
“No problem. Why don’t you let me…”
I shake my head, already pulling back. “I’m good, but thanks, seriously.”
With one final nod of my head, I rush away, not once turning back, but I swear I can feel his gaze boring into my back all the way down the hallway.
“You’re Katherine Adams, right?”
I look up just in time to see a girl slide into the open seat next to mine.
My brows shoot up as I return her curious gaze with one of my own. “Should I be freaked out that you know my name when I’m pretty sure we’ve never met?”
After living most of my life in California where nobody gives a damn who you are if you aren’t some kind of big celebrity worth their while, it’s hard to get used to the little looks and whispers behind your back. Something that has happened on more than one occasion since we got here a few weeks back.
The girl throws her head back, her reddish-brown hair swaying as she laughs like my question genuinely amuses her. “What would worry me more is if folks didn’t find out about you by now.” She turns in her seat, offering me her hand. “Becky Williams.” I shake her hand. “And just for reference? This isn’t our first time meeting.”
“No?”
I try to remember where I could have met her, but I haven’t left the house much since moving here, which means I don’t really know anybody.
“Nope, I was there when you and Emmett collided this morning.”
A mischievous grin and kind, teasing eyes flash in my mind.
“Oh, right.”
I’d be a liar if I said he hasn’t been on my mind since this morning. He has. It’s like I’ve been secretly looking around just to catch a glimpse of him between all the unfamiliar faces of Bluebonnet Creek High’s hallways.
When I look up, I find Becky observing me carefully.
“Right,” Becky drawls slowly, which only makes her accent thicken. A smile plays on her lips. “I guess you guys were in your own little world when it happened.”
“Something like that, probably,” I agree readily, happy to have an excuse for my lack of attention.
“He can be such a klutz sometimes,” Becky tsks, shaking her head. “I swear, I have no idea how he ended up on the football team. Out of all of us, he was usually the one who ended up bruised and scraped more often than not.”
I hum noncommittally, not sure how to actually respond. Do all the people in small towns like to share information like this? It seems like something that only happens in movies. “You know him well?”
Becky gives me a funny look, one I’m not sure how to interpret. “Girl, we all know each other around here since we were in diapers. Anyway, where are you from?”
“Gossip squad hasn’t learned that tidbit of information?” I ask, feigning shock.
Last weekend I went to the store with my aunt, where she stumbled into one of the church ladies, and she interrogated me so thoroughly you’d think I was being questioned by the FBI. Hell, the FBI has nothing on those ladies.
Becky chuckles. “We’re so obvious, aren’t we?”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “Being here will definitely take some getting used to, though.”
“Not used to small-town life, are you?”
I remember the ten-story building in a shitty part of Hollywood and the sound of traffic outside of my window.
“Not really,” I admit. “Mom was always more interested in the blinding city lights.”
“Did your momma move here with y’all?”
Her question throws me off guard for a moment. Mom didn’t like the idea of us moving here at all. She didn’t even want to come here. Like ever. In my seventeen years, we’ve never stepped foot into her hometown. I’m not sure what happened to make her dislike this place so much. It didn’t even matter. All I knew was that I had to get out of Cali, and this was as good a place as any to be. Not that Mom agreed. We had a huge fight over it, but it was one thing I wasn’t backing down on, so she had to give in.
“No.” I shake my head. “No, she’s busy with a… project. It’s just my sister and me.”
That gets her attention, and I swear silently. “Is she going to school here too?”
“No, she’s in middle school.”
“Oh, then maybe she knows my brother, Matthew. He’s in middle school too. What grade is she in?”
I open my mouth, but before I can answer, the bell rings, and our teacher strides inside. Thankful for the interruption, I give Becky an apologetic smile while at the same time thanking God for giving me an out.
“Settle down, kids, and let’s get to work.”
I pull my book out, grateful that this guy doesn’t seem the least bit interested in me like the last few teachers did, asking me to stand up and introduce myself. I figured we were done with it, nobody in my previous few schools cared enough, and I rarely bothered since I knew I wouldn’t be staying for long anyway.