Chapter one
Izzy
High School
Thereisnothingworsethan human anatomy. The class that is. Not that I’m particularly fond of the other kind either.
“If you’re mature enough to have sex, then you’re mature enough to talk about sexual reproduction in this class,” Mr. DeMarco says from the back of the classroom as the video in front of us shows a live-action shot of sperm racing toward their goal.
I want to ask him if I can be excused if I’m not, in fact, having sex, but I decide to let that one go. This has to be one of the top ten worst days of Mr. DeMarco’s year, and, forcing me to watch a video about erections and ejaculation aside, I actually like the guy.
Instead, I turn my attention to the screen, the sad tale of the sperm and their unfulfilling quest for glory still playing.
Poor guys. I scribble in my notebook before leaning to the side so Jaxon can read it.
When I don’t hear his telltale chuckle, I peek over my shoulder to find empty space behind me.
Right. Jaxon isn’t here yet.
Which is really unfortunate for him. The donut I got him for his birthday is not going to survive in my backpack much longer. We both know I’ll be hungry by the third period and will have no choice but to eat the tasty carbs in my bag—even if it’s supposed to be for his birthday.
Maybe I’ll give him my notes from this video as a gift instead.
Chuckling internally at the idea, I grab my pen, turning my notes into a script of what I imagine the sperm are saying to each other as they race toward their goal.
“Do you know where Jaxon is?” I ask Tiana as we walk out of class thirty-five minutes later.
Tugging her backpack strap over her shoulder, she shrugs. “No idea.”
I hum, slipping my phone out of my pocket and shooting Jaxon a quick text as I head to my locker to grab my Spanish book.
Me
Where are you? If you’re not here by history class, I’m eating the birthday present I got you.
I stare at my phone for a few seconds, but when no reply comes through, I flip it shut and stick it in the front pocket of my backpack.
The day passes in a slow slog. Turns out, the schedule Jax and I spent hours on to make sure our senior year is fantastic is only perfect when we’re both here. I should fake being sick tomorrowjust to make him suffer like I am, but unfortunately, I have volleyball practice I can’t miss.
As the final bell rings, I pull out my cell phone again, annoyed at the same blank screen still haunting me.
Me
Hello? Are you dead?
I need a better plan.
“Hey, Becca, can you do me a favor?” I ask my friend as she walks by me in the hall.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Can you message me? I think my phone might not be getting texts.”
“Yeah.” She flips open her navy-blue phone and presses a few buttons. “There you go.”
My phone lets out abuzzas her message comes through.
“Huh. Guess it’s not me, then,” I say, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following her into the locker room. “Wonder what’s going on with Jaxon.”
