Page 23 of Don't Let Go

“Don’t walk away when we’re talking. That’s rude.”

The guy with dreads laughed. “You’d think money would buy class. Guess it doesn’t.”

I shoved the guy away, breaking free. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Where you from?” the shaggy-haired guy called, tugging on my backpack. “Doesn’t this look expensive?”

I turned around and grabbed his forearm, twisting it back. With a little more effort, I’d snap his wrist. “I said leave me the hell alone. My life is shitty enough without you, boneheads.” I let go of his wrist and ran my hands down my shirt, a nervous habit I got from my father. “Now, where is the office?”

The taller guy and the shaggy-haired guy cursed me and walked off. The guy with dreads looked at me for a long moment and pointed toward the left before following his friends.

How far I had fallen. Last month, I was the all-star basketball player and untouchable, and now I’m the new kid with all eyes on me, waiting to see if I’m some kind of alien.

I squeezed my eyes closed and jogged toward where that guy pointed, hoping it was the right direction for the office so I could get my first day in hell over with.

As I wandered through the halls with my new schedule in hand, I heard a familiar voice around the corner.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted Rory. She was about five yards away with a thug-looking guy with black hair pressing her into the lockers. Her lips twisted in agony, probably because the lock to the top locker seemed to be digging into her spine. The guy had his large hands on her hips and spoke close to her ear.

The guy then grabbed Rory’s hair, twisted it, and used it to pull her head to the side so he could kiss her exposed neck. Her arms went around his torso, but it was like a zombie moving their limbs. I didn’t see any passion. If anything, I saw her trying to push this giant guy off her.

Rory managed to wriggle her hair free so she could turn her head to break the kiss. She froze when she saw me. I gave her a lame smirk and looked at the schedule in my hands, trying to figure out where my first period was. I wanted to intervene, but I didn’t know how this school worked, and I couldn’t afford to be involved in a fight on my first day.

As I walked past the unhappy couple, Rory managed to escape from the guy long enough to open her locker and grab her books.

“Tyler, wait up!” she shouted, her sneakers squeaking on the tile as she ran to catch up. “Do you know where you’re going?”

I briefly looked over her shoulder. The guy gave me a death glare before leaving with a few of his friends.

“I’m good.” I frowned at my schedule. “Where’s history?”

She laughed. The sound was soft yet sweet, like honey. “I promised you a tour. Come on.”

Rory adjusted her backpack strap on her shoulder and smiled. “I’m not sure how different your high school was from ours. It’s pretty small here.” She motioned around her. “As you can see, we have lockers in the hall, divided by grade. Some of the buildings around here are also grade-specific. Other than that, there’s no real order.”

“I had lockers at my other school,” I replied like a loser.

She gave me that smile again. She had the cutest dimples. “So, this area is where most of the senior classes are. With a few exceptions. Can I see your schedule?”

I handed it over. A group of teens raced the hallway like they could win a prize if they reached point B in time. I moved closer to Rory. She smelled like strawberries.

“Your first class is next to mine. We share the same math class and the same lunch period.” She handed the paper back.

I kicked the floor and looked past her, making sure that jerk was nowhere in sight. “Was that guy your boyfriend?”

She blew a piece of hair away from her eye. “Yeah. He is.” She paused for a moment. “Do you have a girlfriend?” She looked up at me, and damn, her green eyes were even more gorgeous with her black mascara and dark green eyeshadow.

“Yeah. I do, Iris.” I said quietly.

Rory nodded. “That’s a pretty name.” She cleared her throat and continued taking me around the school. It was a ratherquick tour, lasting roughly about ten minutes. South Ridge was about a quarter of the size of Lincoln High. She pointed out key areas: computer and science labs, the bathrooms, the library, the cafeteria, and the gym.

The warning bell rang, and she pointed to a wooden door with a poster of George Washington on it. “Have fun in history.”

“Thanks for the tour.” I grabbed the doorknob and stepped into the class.

“No problem. I’ll be around if you get lost again.”

I turned and grinned. “I’ll be sure to tip next time,” I said, winking.

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