West nods and my stomach fills with knots when he smiles. “That obvious?”
“Kind of,” I manage to say through a super cheesy grin. “I mean, there’s obviously some sort of relation, but seeing as how you’re all here for orientation, I kind of put the pieces together.”
He’s nodding again and I realize I still haven’t given my name.
“Oh, I’m Blue. Blue Riley,” I share. He gives me the same look everyone does when I tell them.
“Is that short for something? Or a nickname?”
My cheeks feel hot and I’m grateful it’s dark, because my entire face is probably red.
“Uh, no,” I admit. “My mom thought it’d be cool to name my siblings and I after colors. She’s … a little eccentric, I guess you might say. So, she named us Blue, Scarlett, and Hunter.”
When he nods and his smile grows, I’m not really sure how to take it. He’s either trying to hold in a laugh or he’s thinking my mom must be a little unhinged.
Which wouldn’t be far from the truth.
“I hated it most of my life, but it’s grown on me,” I share.
He’s thoughtful for a second, and it’s in this moment I become even more aware of his intense energy. He’s confident, which is why he hasn’t broken his gaze. Meanwhile, I’m fighting the urge to fidget again.
“Blue.” It seems he’s deep in thought when my name rolls off his lips. Then, my gaze lowers to his mouth when he adds, “I like it.”
“Thanks.” The burning in my cheeks grows warmer.
Those heartbreaker-greens stay trained on me a few seconds longer, then they flicker back toward the stage to listen. We’re silent through the rest of the assembly, but it’s an uncomfortable silence. One where I’m overwhelmed with the urge to turn in West’s direction just to see if this is real.
The lights brighten and I reach for my purse where it rests on the floor between us. Pulling out the forms I was given earlier, I stand. When I do, West and I are eye-to-eye. Well, sort of, considering he’s so much taller.
Feeling the need to put at least a little space between us, I step out into the aisleway and the boys follow. More of the fiery stares from strangers fly my way, and I gather there are a number of these girls who’d like to be me right now, but I don’t let it go to my head.
They’re just boys, Blue.
A paper slips from the folder I’m holding and, before I can bend to grab it myself, West crouches and has it in hand. He rises to stand, reading the header out loud when he does.
“Sports Physical. What do you play?” He hands it back after asking.
“Basketball. I played all three years at South Cypress.”
His brow twitches and he doesn’t respond right away, but when he does there’s a tone I notice. “You’re from the south side?”
I’m unsure if that’s judgement I hear, or just surprise.
“Uh, yep. Born and raised,” I say chipperly, refusing to feel ashamed. I am who I am, whether he accepts that or not.
“You still live there?”
I nod. “Same house since I was born, actually.”
All three of their faces are hard to read now.
“So, you’re a scholarship kid.”
I feel my brow twitch at Dane’s wording. ‘Scholarship kid’ feels like a label. Like one of those petty insults the rich kids toss around while wearing those smug-ass grins.
“Not exactly,” I lie. “My tuition is already covered.”
West’s stare turns inquisitive and I have never wished I could read someone’s mind more than I do right now. Maybe he knows I’m not telling the truth, but it’s no one’s business that I am, in fact, a scholarship recipient. Only a few are given out each year, as the board’s version of a community outreach program. Even still, they only let in students with considerably high GPAs, and there are some pretty serious caveats attached. For example, their already strict zero-tolerance policy for BS is even stricter for those of us from the outside.
Which is why I thanked my lucky stars I was still admitted, considering the scuffle I got into at the end of last school year.
Long story short, I’ll be walking a very thin line here, and my counselor, Dr. Pryor, will make sure of it.
West is quiet for a sec, then he nods toward the auditorium doors. “Since you’re new, why don’t I show you around?”
I draw in a nervous breath before nodding. “Yeah, okay. I could probably use some help finding my locker, anyway. Thanks.”
An easy smile curves the corner of his mouth. “No problem.”
Mostly everyone makes a beeline for the exit now that the assembly has let out, leaving only a few students lingering. The four of us take to the hallway as a group—West to my right, Dane and Sterling to my left. I feel small sandwiched between them, but it isn’t a bad feeling. The looks of admiration from the guys we pass, and downright fangirling from the female population, is overwhelming.
It’s more than clear that my assessment of these three ruling this school is one-hundred percent accurate.
A few twists and turns and we’re here. I’d given West my locker number, so he knew exactly where to go. According to my schedule, and the little map printed at the top, it isn’t far from my first hour, which is nice.
“We get five minutes between classes, so it’s probably not a bad idea to fit as much as you can in your bag,” Sterling offers. “Teachers here probably aren’t as lenient as where you’re from. One tardy and you can expect a detention.”
On the surface, what he says seems kind enough, but it’s the ‘where I’m from’ part that’s rubbed me the wrong way.
What the hell does he know about what standards were upheld at my old school? I’m guessing they think anyone from the other side of the tracks must be some kind of thug or criminal. Typical. It would probably blow his mind to know that several kids in my class have full scholarships to some very desirable universities.
In short, I feel judged.
I force a smile, but don’t say anything.
“We should head toward the cafeteria,” West suggests, leading us down a hallway lined with windows on either side.
We hang a sharp left and I see the lunchroom at the end of the hall. Through the double-doors, we’re able to peek inside. It’s pretty standard from what I can see.
“When weather permits, most of us eat in the courtyard,” West shares.
I’m not sure if that’s an invitation to join them, but when he doesn’t spell it out, I’m even more confused. We move on again and I’m not given a clue where we’re headed next, but my companions have suddenly gone quiet on me, which is unnerving to say the least.
We turn down yet another passage, but this one is a dead end, only a few dormant classrooms on either side. Confused, I peer down at my schedule to see if any of the room numbers match, but nope. No idea why we had come this way.
“So, what are the teachers like here?” I ask. Someone had to say something.
Dane glances toward me briefly, but his eyes dart ahead quickly after. “Like everywhere else, I guess. Pains in the ass.”
A nervous laugh slips out, but the others are all quiet. This sudden change in mood can’t be my imagination, and I’m sure of it when we come to a stop in the middle of this dead zone. West faces me and I’m overwhelmed by the sheer size of him when he steps closer, peering down on me with a look that’s grown increasingly dark. Whatever hope I held on to that this moment would rebound has mostly faded now. I realize I hadn’t imagined being given the cold shoulder, but it’s possible I imagined the kindness these three had shown only a moment ago.