Page 6 of Sporty Girls Don't Fall For Loners

“Do you want to sit with us?” another girl pipes up. “I’m Amber, by the way. And this is Jen.” She points to the third girl. “Do you play football or something? You look like you play a sport. Maybe we can cheer for you. We’re not cheerleaders, though. We didn’t make the squad.” She giggles loudly. “Maybe next year.”

I finally look up, giving all three of them a look that I hope tells them to back the heck away. I don’t mean to be intimidating, I just need my space. And I don’t want anything to do with the kids here. What’s the point if I’ll probably change schools soon anyway? After my new caseworker abandons me or throws me into another home.

The girls’ eyes widen and they exchange shocked and confused looks. Slowly, they disperse, whispering to one another. When they return to their table at the other end of the cafeteria, they tell their friends all about the school loner.

I’m about to continue reading my article when I feel those chocolate-colored eyes on me again. They narrow as if she’s trying to read me. Then she turns around and doesn’t look at me again.

A short while later, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I quickly finish my mashed potatoes and then dump my tray with the others and make my way out the door. I have history next. While I wish I could spend the entire period on the stairs, Ally made it quite clear that I’m to attend every single class. Teachers will be taking attendance to make sure I actually dragged myself to my classes. Makes me feel like a little kid, like I’m on a leash or something.

Gritting my teeth, I grab my textbook from my locker and head to my classroom, choosing a desk in the back and throwing myself into it.

As I play another game on my phone, a voice says. “That’s my seat.”

I look up to discover a girl with blonde hair, wearing a cheerleading uniform, standing there.

Ignoring her, I focus on my phone.

“Hello?” She snaps in my face. “I said, this is my seat.”

“Don’t see your name on it,” I mutter.

Her hands shoot to her hips. “Oh my gosh. Who the heck do you think you are? This is my seat, so get lost.”

I don’t move, nor do I give her the time of day.

“Are you serious?” she demands.

Dead serious.

“Come on, Tiffany,” another cheerleader hisses from behind her. “Let’s just go sit over there. That guy’s bad news.”

Tiffany stands her ground. “I’m not changing my seat because this guy thinks he can come here and do whatever he wants.”

My gaze snaps in her direction as I sit forward, keeping my hard eyes on her. “I’m not moving, so why don’t you get lost?” And I give her the biggest glare I can to show her she does not want to mess with me. I’ve dealt with her kind in my previous homes. They didn’t intimidate me, either.

Her jaw nearly reaches the floor as her eyes widen. She and the others scurry to the other side of the room. She nearly collides with Goody Two Shoes, who’s about to sit in the chair Tiffany has chosen.

“Go away, loser,” Tiffany nearly barks. “This is my seat.”

“Your seat is over…” Her voice trails off as she notices the new occupant in Tiffany’s old desk. “Fine, whatever.”

Ally’s niece takes the only available desk in the room, the one right across from me. She looks at me and I look at her and then she drops down, taking out her school stuff.

I play on my phone until the teacher comes in. He starts talking about an assignment he’d like us to work on today, but his mouth snaps shut when his gaze locks on me.

“Oh, we have a new student, class,” he announces. “I’m Mr. Ortiz. Remind me your name, please.”

All heads turn in my direction. Another thing I hate? Being the center of attention.

“Your name? We don’t have all day.”

“Kade Sanders,” I say between clenched teeth.

“I don’t hear you. Please stand up and introduce yourself to the class.”

I keep my eyes on him, not moving an inch. He waits a beat or two before nodding slowly and facing the class. He starts talking about today’s assignment. He’s splitting us into teams of two and we’ll have to read a few pages from the textbook and write an essay on how the events of the past affect us today.

“Look at the person across from you,” Mr. Ortiz says. “That’s your partner.”

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