“That one is a handful,” the secretary remarks as she types a few things onto her computer.

I focus on her. “Yeah, I can tell.”

She clicks the mouse. “He’s a good kid, though, especially considering what he’s been through. It’s also probably why I have a hard time telling him no.”

I want to ask her so many questions, like why she gave him a slip to get out of class, or what he’s been through or, better yet, what his name is since all I ever heard her call him was Mr. Hathingford. But doing so would mean I have an interest in him and would put me a little bit closer to knowing who he is. What would be the point in that?

Like I said before, by the end of the day, he’ll have no desire to be friends with me anymore.

5

HUNTER

So maybe this day isn’t going to be as shitty as I thought. Sure, I still have to do that job for my dad, and school isn’t my favorite place ever, but basketball is starting up today, which I’m on the team. Playing offers me a couple of hours of peace from the chaos that is my life.

That’s not the only thing that’s gotten my mood elevating. It’s the new girl. I’m going to call it total luck that I met her in the main office on the start of her first day. Although, according to her, she’d probably call it bad luck.

She’s amusing, she really is, and fucking gorgeous. That was the first thing I noticed when I walked into the main office to get a pass to miss last period so I can have time to meet Diane at the diner and still make it back to practice.

That long, wavy hair that reminded me of the color of raven feathers, those long legs and that ass … It was a really nice view. But nothing compared to when she turned and looked at me. Those eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes that carry so much pain in them. I could see it. This girl had been hurt by something or someone. And in those eyes, I saw a bit of familiarity, probably because the hurt looks so similar to what’s in my own eyes and my friends’.

And, being me, I flirted with her. It’s what I’m known for. But usually, it’s just an act.

This … This felt real.

I wanted to flirt with her.

I wanted to do a lot to her honestly.

But what made meeting her amusing is that she seemed completely unimpressed by my charm. That was definitely a first.

By the time I exited the office, I’m sure I had a dumbass grin on my face.

“Dude, what’re you smiling about?” my younger sister, Harlow, asks as I near my locker where she’s waiting for me.

She looks similar to me—blonde hair, blue eyes. When we were younger, she used to wear dresses all the time and curl her hair. Around the end of middle school, though, she decided to reinvent herself for who the hell knows why. Now she wears a lot of torn jeans, black T-shirts, sneakers, and has a shit ton of piercings.