Page 2 of Charger

“Just saying,” Garrett mumbles around a bite of his food.

With Zach’s arm still around my shoulders, I start to come undone. How long is he going to keep his arm around me? It’s starting to feel warmer in here as the heat flows through me.

Over the last couple of years, my feelings for Zach have started to change. I no longer see him as just the boy next door, or my and my brother’s best friend. No, he is becoming more than that. The way his body has gotten harder, sexier with lean muscle. The way his voice has become gruffer, husky sounding. The way his dirty blond hair is always longer on top and shorter on the sides, making his bangs forever falling in front of his sky-blue eyes. Let’s not forget the way he can make me laugh or how we can hangout for hours, just being ourselves. The hot as hell senior football star with a bad boy attitude. And enter senior me, who’s never had a boyfriend before, a plain Jane, and is crushing on her best friend. A best friend who we all knew since we were like ten.

“All right, I better run home to shower.” Zach leans closer to me. His breath tickles my skin. “Since your mom says I smell.” He smirks and I give him a shove.

“You do smell. And if you two make me late on the first day, I’ll murder you both while you sleep.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, sis. He wants to be on time so he can make out with Samantha before first period.”

I mentally eye roll at the mention of Sam. She and Zach have been going out since last year. I’m not sure why because honestly, she sucks. She’s bitchy, hates me, and is a cheerleader with a preppy attitude. Zach might be popular, but he’s not an asshole by any means. We all hate seeing him with her. Especially me, but that is for different reasons. He doesn’t know the way I feel about him and I won’t dare tell him. One, I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have. And two, I can almost guess he doesn’t feel the same. With my average face, average body, and not to mention the oh so not sexy glasses I wear, the only thing I have going for me is my Italian skin complexion and dark, thick hair. Other than that, I would probably average a five if I’m lucky.

Zach ignores the comment about Sam as he’s walking out the door. “I’ll be done in ten minutes. Beep when you’re outside,” he tells my brother. “Bye, Mr. and Mrs. T.”

My brother looks over at me and starts mouthing a countdown. I know why he’s counting down and I try my hardest to stifle a laugh. Our mother is so predictable.

“Garrett, will you please go shower, now. What kind of first impression are you trying to make?” We both break out into laughter and I swear milk almost comes out of my nose. We know what the other is thinking all the time—must be the twin thing.

Garrett drives us to school and “Like a Stone” by Audioslave is blaring through the car’s speakers. I scoot forward from the back seat, placing both my hands on their headrests. “So, guys, what are my chances that people will not remember the you know what incident from last year?”

“Um, I would say your chances are good?” Zach glances to the left at my brother.

“Why did you say it like it was a question?”

Zach twists his body enough to be able to see me. “It’s been like three months, so I doubt that anyone will remember or even care. Not saying the view wasn’t nice to look at though.” He gives me a playful wink, but I know he’s only joking. He’s only ever just joking with me. I plop back into my seat with a sigh.

“That’s my sister. Don’t be fuckin’ nasty. You’re my dude, but I won’t hesitate to break your face.” Garrett punches Zach’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m kidding.” But his sly grin holds something deeper.

Weird.

We pull up to the high school and students are everywhere. Some, I recognize but some are definitely new freshman meat. Those poor guys don’t know what they are in for. Students can be mean, especially to a freshman. Scratch that, all of high school is mean.

I toss my long black hair into a pony, nudge my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and grab my bag. The boys are already walking ahead of me when Sam does her prissy skip over to Zach. She wraps her bony arms around his neck and kisses him like she’s marking her territory. I honestly don’t blame her. He’s probably one of the hottest guys in school, with his sexy hair and those eyes. Every girl wants to throw herself at him.

Garrett nudges me with his elbow. We smirk at each other because Sam is still locking lips with Zach. I might be wearing a smile, but the kiss sends knives through my chest. He pulls away first, but she’s still attached to him like a lost puppy.

“Hi, Garrett.” She smiles then looks over at me. “Julianna,” she says with a permanent resting bitch face. I’m not exactly sure why she feels threatened by me. It’s not like Zach and I have anything going on.

“Samantha,” I emphasize her name with a fake-ass smile right back. Oh yeah, I could keep this up all day. Bring it on, bitch.

“How was your break, Julianna? Did you finally get a boyfriend or did you just hang out with mine all summer?”

“I just hung out with yours. But thanks for asking.” No one has ever tested my patience more than she does. She’s playing a game she can’t win. I’m practically with Zach every day, not that it’s a competition.

Sam and I know that our hate for each other is mutual and so do the boys. So, when we have our little cat fights, they just let us go. Garrett stands there unamused, but Zach looks like he’s fully enjoying it. He’s probably loving the fact that two girls are fighting over him. Although, I wouldn’t say I’m fighting over him, just standing my ground. It’s not like I’m jealous of her being with him or anything.

Total lie.

With every kiss and touch I have to witness, my stomach drops.

“Pathetic.” She flips her hair and we all walk inside the school. The only thing that’s pathetic is her pair of knock-off Louis Vuitton shoes.

The smell is still the same as we walk inside. Schools have the same smell, books and pencils. There are posters everywhere, already hyping up the first pep rally and bonfire.

After we find our lockers, Garrett wastes no time in taping pictures up of half-naked women. “I’m so proud that you’re my brother.” Sarcasm drips from my tongue.

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