“So, where’d you move from?” Todd persisted in talking to me. Guess he didn’t catch on to how nervous or shy I was.
“Hillsburg,” I answered, not even bothering to glance up. I hadn’t left a whole lot of room to fit an N between I and D, but I managed to wedge in a tiny, misshapen one.
“A Viking, huh? What made you come here?”
Finally, I looked up. Todd continued to stare at me. He wasn’t bad looking. In fact, if he wasn’t always sitting or standing so close to Ryder Yates, I might label him attractive. But compared to number forty-two, he ranked a measly four or five with his hazel eyes, blond hair, and scruffy start at a goatee.
It puzzled me why high school boys tried to grow facial hair. I’ve only ever seen a limited few manage anything past peach fuzz. Todd, Ryder’s staring friend, did not belong in the limited few.
“My mom got married,” I said, trying not to concentrate on the pimple embedded in his chin he was probably growing his peach fuzz to cover. “My new stepdad lives here so we moved in with him.”
He nodded. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
I blinked, taken aback by his question. I’m sure some teens really resent the fact their parents remarry, but it startled me he was so open about questioning whether I was one of them.
I shrugged. “It’s good. I guess. I mean, my mom’s happy. And my stepdad’s nice. He bought me a new laptop for school, so I can’t complain.”
“Yeah? That’s cool.”
“Oh, and he gave me this,” I added. I wasn’t sure why I put in that information, just to keep the conversation going, I guess. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ryder lift his face to see what I was showing off. And as soon as he did, I glanced his way. I’d been holding out the heart necklace for Todd to examine, but my eyes slid toward Ryder.
As soon as I caught his gaze, he immediately lowered his face again and went to scratch the back of his head as if he wasn’t at all interested in seeing what I showed his friend.
Across the aisle from me, Todd leaned closer to take hold of the necklace, surprising me with how easily and thoughtlessly he invaded my personal space.
“Pretty,” he said.
“I think so,” I told him with a smile in my voice, though I knotted my fingers with anxiety because he had yet to back off.
To avoid thinking about the nerves rattling around in my abdomen, I lowered my chin to examine the necklace too. I was so busy gazing down at the gold, I didn’t notice how Todd had hooked his thumb over his shoulder and was pointing out the guy sitting behind him until he said, “This is Ryder, by the way.”
I zipped my head up, my eyes wide with shock, only to discover Ryder lifting his face with the same mortified expression I knew I had to be presenting.
He scowled at Todd. Then he slid his gaze to me. “Hey,” he said quickly and returned his attention to his homework.
Far cry from the chatty, personable ball player he’d been at the basketball game only a few short weeks ago. Made me wonder what had changed. Maybe he worried I’d tell his girlfriend how he’d flirted with some stranger from Hillsburg. Except, oops, I wasn’t from Hillsburg anymore, was I?
I managed a quiet, mumbled, “Hi.”
“But I guess you’ve already met him, haven’t you?” Todd said. His eyes glittered with glee, the kind of evil glee only a high school boy who had just goofed on his best friend could muster.
I wanted to send him some kind of dirty hand gesture or tell him off for bringing Ryder into the conversation. But I chickened out and looked down at my assignment as I gave a negligent one-shouldered shrug. “Sort of.”
Todd snickered. “You know, you’ve become my hero.”
I lifted my face, utterly befuddled. “Huh?”
He motioned behind him toward Ryder again. “For putting him in his place that night at the Hillsburg game. I love it when a girl turns him down.”
Ryder lifted his head to glare at Todd and sneer. “Thanks a lot, bud. I love you too.”
Todd only laughed harder.
I cleared my throat, clutched my pen tighter, and sank a little lower in my seat as I pressed the tip of my Bic against the sheet of paper.
As I added the date next to my name, Todd kept talking, changing gears. “So, how do you like it here at Southeast so far?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer. More than anything, I just wanted to return to Hillsburg. Especially now that I knew Ryder Yates wasn’t what I’d hoped he’d be.
“No one’s been mean to me,” I said tactfully, moving my pen down to the first problem on the page. My vision blurred and I couldn’t concentrate on one word, let alone an entire question. “But I haven’t really gotten to know anyone yet.”
“Well, I could help you with that.” Todd’s grin was mischievous when I glanced curiously at him. “Best way to get to know people around here is by going to our basketball games. We’re having one tonight, actually. A home game. Usually a group of us gets together afterward. Want to join us?”
Just as my face heated from his question, Ryder snorted behind him. Both Todd and I swiveled around. He seared me with a bitter smirk before he lifted his eyebrows Todd’s way. “Don’t you know? She’s not interested.”
My jaw dropped. What had crawled into his Wheaties and died? He was the one who had a girlfriend, who’d flirted with me while his perky cheerleader had been across the gymnasium doing back flips and playing around with their stupid Barney mascot. I was the one who was supposed to be bitter here.
Todd didn’t seem to appreciate his smart-mouthed comment either. He scowled at Ryder as if he wanted to choke him.
I politely cleared my throat and sent my own small glare to Ryder before turning back to Todd and lifting my chin. “What time?” I said before I could stop myself.
And there came my mistake number two. One being the fact that I turned down Ryder Yates the first time he asked for my name. Two being that I did not turn down his friend.
But honestly, how could I say no? Ryder Yates had just issued me the ultimate challenge. This seemed like my way to get back at him. He had to have a girlfriend, so I felt forced to go hang out with his friend. Plus, if I wanted to be totally honest with myself, a part of me wanted to be around him just a little longer. I had to know what I was missing by initially telling him I wasn’t interested: a total jerk or my dream come true? And if a bunch of them were going to hang out, then I had to guess Ryder would be included in that number, so I should be able to aptly appease my curiosity.
At my response, Todd’s eyes briefly flared in surprise. Then he smiled—or maybe preened would be a better word to describe the expression that crossed his face. Glancing mockingly at Ryder, he said, “Game starts at seven. It’ll probably go on ’til nine or nine-thirty. So ten o’clock? We meet out behind the gymnasium at the benches and then usually go somewhere and stay out until midnight or so.”
I bit my lip. “My mom usually doesn’t like me out any later than eleven.” Actually, my curfew was eleven on weekends only, ten on a weekday night. But I couldn’t mention that and look like a complete dud.
Todd shrugged. “I could take you home whenever.”
“Okay.” I shrugged too like it was no big deal, when all the while, my pulse kept pumping faster and my palms kept growing sweatier. My skin went all pale and cold as I hoped and prayed my mother didn’t say no, yet hoped and prayed that’s kind of exactly what she’d say.
Did I really want to go to a Southeast basketball game and hang out with a bunch of people I didn’t know? Heck, no. But could I risk turning them down and being an outsider for another year and half before I graduated? Heck, no.
Rock and hard place. Guess where I stood?
The bell rang and I nearly shouted in relief. Thank goodness I could finally get out of this class so I wouldn’t let someone talk me into donating a kidney or something.
I leapt to my feet and hurled myself toward the exit. Todd, curse him, kept pace, entering the flooded hallway right beh
ind me with Ryder piling in behind us.
“Let me introduce you around,” Todd offered, setting his hand on my shoulder and redirecting me with a nudge. His familiarity with me was shocking, but I didn’t shrug off his uncomfortable arm. Didn’t want to be rude.
“That’s Cory,” he started, pointing toward a dark-haired boy walking hand-in-hand with a longhaired girl. Cory paused to slap a high-five with Ryder.
“And that’s Melinda,” Todd continued, motioning toward the pretty girl with Cory.
She smiled at me and held out a hand. “Call me Mindy.”
We shook, and I felt comforted by her presence. Had I perchance just made another friend? I hoped so.
“Those two are Wendi and Vance. And—”
“Ryder!” A shrill squeal blocked out anything else Todd was about to say.
I looked up and spotted the cheerleader with number forty-two stenciled on her cheek sprinting toward him. When she was a foot away, she leapt, forcing him to scramble in order to catch her.
My jaw dropped as I watched the face-painted cheerleader splash her lips all over Ryder’s jaw before she cupped his face in both hands and gave him a big wet one right on the mouth.
“And that’s Kiera,” Todd finished as the couple continued to suck face. “Yates’s woman.” He caught my eye and wrinkled his brows as if sharing an inside joke to let me know he thought Yates’s woman was a bit over the top.
I managed a feeble grin, glad at least Todd wasn’t so impressed by the pretty cheerleader.
“What? Did I hear my name?” Kiera asked when she finally came up for air. She looped her arms around Ryder’s neck as he let her slide back down to the ground from where he’d been holding her off her feet around the waist.
I forced myself to look away. My cheeks burned with embarrassment for watching such a private moment that had been so openly displayed.
I have no idea why seeing Ryder Yates kiss another girl hurt so much. I didn’t even know him. He’d asked for my name once, and that was it, our entire history described in one sentence. But I’d been so hopeful and the deflated little balloon of wishful thinking seemed to take up more space inside me than when it had been fully expanded and full of optimism.
“This is Grace.” Todd introducing me to Ryder’s girlfriend dragged me back to the horrible moment. “She just transferred here from Hillsburg.”
I don’t know if it was the mention of Hillsburg or just plain me that turned her off, but Kiera wrinkled her nose in disgust. “So what’re you doing here?”
I opened my mouth but Todd answered for me. “Her mom got remarried. Her new stepdad lives in town.”
That seemed to perk Kiera’s attention. “New stepdad? From Osage? Who’d your mom marry?” She seemed highly insulted to learn something had happened in her town without her knowledge.
“Barry Struder. He’s a den—”
Kiera’s gasp cut me off. “Dr. Struder?” She almost gagged on the name as her entire face pinched into a grimace. “Eww. Your new stepdad is that creepy dentist who lives over on the west edge of town?”
Ryder and I spoke together. “Kiera,” he hissed in a reprimanding undertone just as I clutched my rose necklace to my throat.
“He’s not creepy,” I railed.
“What?” Kiera asked her boyfriend, completely ignoring me.
“I doubt she appreciates you calling her new dad creepy,” Ryder gritted out from between his teeth.
“Well, he is. He comes to every home game and doesn’t have any kids in school. Not until now anyway,” she added, sending me a condemning look for causing that fact.
“A lot of adults in town come to our games without having children in school,” Ryder argued. “It’s called local support.”
“Yeah, but those people actually watch the game. Dr. Struder sits by the students and stares at us cheerleaders the entire time.” She shivered and distorted her face again. “He’s a total perv. One time I couldn’t find my money fast enough to buy what I ordered at the concession stand, and suddenly he was right there behind me, offering to pay for my food.”
“How does that make him a pervert?” I demanded. “Sounds like a nice, charitable action to me.”
Kiera snorted. “Charitable? Yeah, right. Who knows what he would’ve asked me to do to pay him back. I said, ‘No, thanks,’ and escaped with my life intact.”
I could not believe my ears. Ryder Yates’s girlfriend was a total witch. I gawked at her a moment longer, waiting for the horns, tail, forked tongue and cloven hooves to make an appearance. When I realized she could keep them cleverly hidden, I spun away and stalked off.
“Way to go, Kiera,” I heard Todd admonish. A second later, he appeared at my side, taking hold of my elbow. “Wait up, Grace.”
I didn’t pause but kept right on storming toward my next class, wherever that was. “I don’t care what she says. Barry’s a nice guy. He treats my mom right and has been nothing but kind to me.”
Todd winced and scratched his goatee. “Yeah. I’m sorry about Kiera. She’s…well, she’s Kiera.”
I softened and offered him a smile, though I still wanted to go back to Miss Perky Cheerleader and scratch out her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize for her.” The witch should apologize for herself.
He looked like he wanted to grovel some more, yet the whole incident had nothing to do with him, so I cut him off before he could start.
With a hopeful arch of my eyebrows, I lifted my class schedule and sent him a pleading smile. “Hey, you don’t happen to know where room one twenty is, do you?”
His shoulders eased and relief washed across his features. With a grin, he snagged my sheet. “Sure. I can take you there myself.”
Chapter 7
“Today, I want us to delve deep into the symbolism of color in literature.”
My last class for my first day at Southeast was Literature with Ms. Holderread. Glad I didn’t have to stand in front of another couple dozen pair of eyes as the teacher announced me as the new kid any more for the rest of the day, I relaxed enough for my muscles to unclench. I sat in the far row closest to the door, waiting for the last bell to ring, wishing I could escape forever and never see Ryder Yates, or his girlfriend, or any of his crew ever again.
I wasn’t a big reader; literature meant absolutely nothing to me. But when Ms. Holderread mentioned color, I glanced up, instantly intrigued.
But honestly. Color in literature? What a strange concept. To me, color meant pictures, photography, art.
“Whenever color is used in literature, it usually stands for something. In old westerns, the protagonist always wore white and the antagonist wore...” She paused dramatically and splayed out a hand for the rest of the class to finish the sentence.
A few people mumbled, “black,” but the response was anything but enthusiastic.
Still, this color/symbolism thing hooked me, so I sat a little straighter and actually paid attention to what the teacher had to say.
“Black,” Ms. Holderread repeated. “Good.” She clapped her hands together and smiled indulgently at us as if she were addressing a classroom full of toddlers instead of teenagers. I decided I liked the woman. She knew how to find humor in an otherwise dreary situation.
“So, let’s talk about this black color, shall we? What do you think of when you hear black? Night? Dark? Scary.” She shivered for effect and rubbed at the sides of her arms as if she were chilled. “Now what do you think when you hear…black tie? Black belt? Black eye? Black sheep? Blackmail? Blackout? The meaning changes when the word associated with it changes. Don’t you find that interesting?”
I did, but I didn’t say so. When no one else said so either, Ms. Holderread rolled her eyes.
“What about white?” she pressed. “What comes to mind when you hear the word white? Purity? Cleanliness?”
I raised my hand. I have no idea why; it seemed to lift on its own accord because I certainly didn’t want to bring attention to myself. I’d received more tha
n my fair share of notice for the day.
Ms. Holderread lifted her eyebrows, letting me know my interest surprised her. Then she pointed my way, her smile brightening the room. “Grace?”
I licked my lips. “Well…in photography, white isn’t technically a color. I mean, it is, but it’s all colors…”
I stalled, feeling like a total moron. Other students turned to stare at me with vacant expressions as if I were some alien being, beamed down into their classroom. I shrank lower in my seat.
But the teacher didn’t roll her eyes. Instead, one of her brows perked with curiosity. “Interesting observation.” She smiled approvingly, which only made my pulse race faster from her praise. “Tell me, what is the scientific definition of white?”
My face heated; I hated having all eyes on me. “It’s, uh…it’s the reflection of the light from all the colors in the color spectrum. So, I guess it is a color, sort of. It’s just…all of them.”
“Very good.” She turned to address everyone else. “White is the complete presence of light, which gives it the symbolism for wholeness and completeness. I’d say this is why it’s also a very spiritual color. They use white when they depict God in pictures. The Bible claims Him as the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, which goes along with the symbolism of wholeness and completion.”
Pointing out a kid in the back row, she said, “Will, what’s something else you think of when you hear the word white?”
“Uh…er, a white flag?”
“Very good. Samantha?”
As Samantha stammered out something about a white knight, my mind raced. I’d never thought about how color meant anything in stories. My big deal was pictures and photography, colors in portraits. Suddenly, I saw color in a new dimension with tons of deeper meaning.
The discussion around the room, mostly forced by Ms. Holderread, continued until she clapped her hands together again. “Here’s the question for the day. Actually, for the entire semester. If you were a color, which color would you be? For your semester project, I want everyone to pick what color you are, and explain why. Then I want you to back your answer with literary evidence. Give me examples from stories where this color is used as a symbol and how you feel it relates to you. I want it to be at least five pages long.”