That was my first kiss.
A first kiss, stolen away by a bully. By a boy I thought I used to like. By a boy I used to dream about. It rattles me more than I want to admit, and I stare at the ground for a long minute. He kissed me. Claimed me like I’m no better than an object he’s writing his name on.
No.
It can’t happen like that. I’m not a puppet, dancing when he jerks my strings. I’m not soft—my childhood has seen to that. I will not bend to him.
And I will certainly not break.
Eventually, I lift my textbook and shake off the dirt from his shoe. I stuff it and my notebook into my bag, skipping homeroom and heading for my first class. I lean against a locker, waiting for the bell to ring.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Unknown: Stay away from Caleb.
I groan. Of all the things—of all the people for my stalker to be obsessed with, it has to be Caleb. I don’t bother answering it. Instead, I turn it off and put my phone in my bag. The bell rings.
In a matter of moments, the hallways are flooded with students. I wait until the classroom is empty, then slip into a seat. The golden boys come in after everyone else, but no one has taken their seats. They sprawl out in their chairs, laughing with each other.
Caleb is silent, burning a hole in my spine like normal.
The teacher comes in, closing the door with a purpose, and everyone shuts up. “We’re going to start a history project that will carry us through the semester.”
Someone raises their hand. “We get partners?”
“Do we get to pick?” another asks.
“The project? Yes. Partners? Maybe. I’ll allow you to submit three names to me at the end of class, and I’ll be making final decision on the partners at the end of the week. Moving on…”
“Better see my name on your paper, Sheep,” Caleb says behind me. “We’re inevitable.”
I can’t hide my shudder. It’s stupid that I can still taste him on my lips. I drag the back of my hand across my lips, and he kicks the back of my chair. I do it again, and he kicks harder.
“Stop,” I hiss.
“Make me.”
“Mr. Asher,” the teacher calls. “Are you paying attention?”
“Trying to, ma’am. Wolfe here is quite distracting.”
The students snicker.
“Margo?”
“Sorry.” What else can I say? Nothing that would get me out of this.
The students’ attention slowly drifts back to the teacher, and the rest of the morning speeds by. I only see Caleb or his friends twice more, and I finally run into Riley in the hallway before lunch. She grabs my arms, hopping up and down.
“I’m so sorry I missed this morning,” she cries. “I overslept, and then my brother wanted a ride, and I had to have my mom call and get permission for me to come in at second period. Are you mad?”
I blink at her. “Mad? Why?”
She leans in. “For leaving you to fend for yourself.” She makes a face, her lips twisting. “Never mind. Your dad—er, Robert brought you in?”
“Per usual,” I say. “We switched around my schedule a bit. I’m taking a painting class of his now.”
She hums. “I don’t know anyone in that class. Maybe you’ll meet a cute, emotional artistic boy who will take you out for coffee with paint on his fingers. His idea of romance will be asking if he can paint you—”
“Fat chance of that.” I snort. “Have you noticed no one will talk to me? No one even looks at me unless Caleb is point me out.”
The fact is, my newfound invisibility doesn’t bother me. I’d guess he’s trying to ice me out, make me feel like he’s the only one in the world who would pay attention to me, but… I don’t care. I hate it when he sees me.
“I did.” She glances around. “Ah, well, it could be worse.”
“How’s that?”
“We could have to eat lunch in the cafeteria.”
I chuckle. “What am I going to do if you’re ever out sick?”
“Oh my god, you’re right. I should introduce you to Amy, the librarian.”
“You’re on a first-name basis with the librarian?” I ask.
She hustles me toward the library. “Amy is the best. She sometimes steals extra desserts and shares. Or if there’s ever cake in the teacher’s lounge…”
I stand by the door, fidgeting. She unlocks it and gestures for me to enter.
“Oh, I should mention,” Riley says, lifting a shoulder, “Amy is my cousin.”
“That’s how you got a key.”
“Yeah. Yo, Amy! You saw my friend Margo, right? Margo, Amy. Amy, Margo. If I’m ever not here, it’s cool that she still chills here for lunch, right?”
Her cousin stands from her desk and comes over, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you. Yes, Riley, of course she can. Just knock, okay, Margo?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Thanks.”
We take our lunch to our chairs, spreading out our options. We’ve gotten used to trading items, because Riley’s mom likes her to be healthy, and Robert hasn’t figured out my favorites yet.
Lenora and I went grocery shopping on Sunday, which was an adventure in and of itself. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a fancy grocery store until that moment. Organic was the name of the game, even if I couldn’t figure out why. Lenora didn’t give the best explanation, either. She let me pick whatever I would want to have in the house: breakfast and snacks to school, lunch and dinner options.
It was just another piece that made me feel better about settling in.
“Salt and vinegar chips?” I ask.
“Yum.”
“Gross.” I laugh.
“Trade you for… the carrots?”
“Deal.”
We eat in silence, her crunching through the bag of chips and me snapping the baby carrots. After we eat, there should be enough time for me to pick out a new book.
“Eli, uh, was flirting with me,” she blurts out. “I don’t know why.”
“Flirting like…”
“He kissed my neck. It felt good, but I was scared, and he’s still mean—”
“He’s…”
“A golden boy,” she finishes. “High school royalty. I know. But like, I didn’t think I would want him to kiss me, and when he stopped, I was—” She turns tomato-red.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “He didn’t say anything?”
“He told me to run back to you,” she whispers. “And to not forget him.”
“Huh.” I shake my head. “I don’t understand them. Any of them.”
She sighs. “Only three more months of them being low-level insufferable. Once lacrosse season starts in the spring? We’ll be reminded of how much they actually rule the school. It’s okay in the fall, because people kind of forget. And then suddenly they’re playing and winning and sweaty and…”
I wave my hand in front of her dreamy gaze. She focuses back on me with a start.
“Lost you there for a second.” I laugh.
“You just wait,” she murmurs. “You’ll feel it, too.”