Chapter 1
Ava
“Yeah, he’s the stupid one.” A classmate sneers, staring at another classmate, that is sitting at his desk, wearing a Stetson. He’s the kid that nobody wants to partner with, like back in peewee baseball, when I used to play, and was always picked last. I’m a tomboy by nature. You still won’t catch me dead wearing a dress. Forget about heels. Not even up for discussion. Makeup…same…forget it. But I am a nerd. If it weren’t for me being about a day late submitting my application for a scholarship, I’d be in Boston, attending Harvard, not stuck here, in Houston, Texas.
My folks are tickled, since I’m driving distance from home, which is in a little town called Clarkstown, close to Dallas. There was no way in heck I was going to go to school in Dallas. No, you couldn’t pay me enough to stay that close to home. Freedom is what I need. Aside from an education, that is. And I suppose that’s why only some of the boys here like me, because the girls don’t. I’m smart and a little pretty, I guess. At least, that’s why I think the boys keep looking at me. Especially this Gunner kid. He’s the kid that nobody likes, and I don’t really blame them.
He's not stupid, see. He’s just got something on his mind. I can tell by the way that he doodles when he’s supposed to be taking notes. I’m a psychology major, if you’re wondering. Not sure what he’s majoring in. My guess is thathedoesn’t even know. His jaw muscles are always working, like he’s thinking about something, and I suppose he is. But he’s not stupid, because I can see him jotting down answers to questions in his notebook, and they’re almost always right, from what I can see. Gunner’s quiet. Barely even spoken to me, but I can tell that he likes me, because he’s not looking at any of them whorey girls. His eyes scan back to me the odd time, though, and when our eyes meet, there’s a hint of sparkle in his.
I bet he doesn’t even know my name. But my morbid sense of curiosity is going to drive me to start up a conversation with him some day. And as our teacher tells us to pick a name from a hat for a group assignment, and I pick Gunner’s name, I figure today’s the day.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask, shaking his proffered hand.
“I’m good. I’m Gunner…but I guess you already know that.” He chuckles softly, embarrassed.
“Yeah. I’m Ava.” I nod.
“That’s a fine name.” he compliments. “It suits you well.”
“Thanks.” I can’t say the same for him. Not sure who gave him his name, but I hope that they apologized. But even with an odd name, he’s kind of cute. The dark, sweaty curls push out from under his hat. Big blue eyes are shielded by long, dark lashes that are almost hidden under his curls. He’s got a good face, with a decent nose, one of them cleft chins, and a full set of lips. I’d say he’s pretty handsome to myself, but I’ll never admit to it to anyone else. His shy smile is what really sets him off. He doesn’t have one of them smug smirks on his face like the rest of them that talk to me do.
“So, where do you want to sit?” He asks me, giving me the reigns, which I like. My folks raised me in a lot of ways to let the man make the decisions, since daddy and my mama have that sort of relationship. But frankly, I like it better when I’m in the driver’s seat, which I don’t often get to be, so I like Gunner already.
I look around the classroom and see that there aren’t any available seats. “Why don’t we step out into the hallway?”
“Sure.” He gestures gallantly for me to go ahead, and I like him even more, since he’s also being a gentleman. It’s novel in these parts. He even offers me his hand, so I can sit on the polished floor, without hurting myself. Now, that’s class. This boy was raised right.
“Thanks.” He lets me speak first. “So, this assignment seems pretty easy, huh. I think it’s just a way to make us get to know each other better. I bet you he’s going to make us pull a name from the hat again, after this, since this’ll take us all of ten minutes to do.”
“I’d lay money on it.” he agrees with a nod.
I look at the paper, and it’s literally an assignment about your new friend. “God, this is so lame.” I chuckle.
He looks at the paper, too, but he’s not smiling. I take it as he’s indifferent. “You want me to just make something up?”
He shakes his head. “No. Let’s go through it.”
“Okay.” I figured he’d go for it, considering that I'm offering to basically do his work for him. “You want to just trade? I’ll answer the questions being asked of me, and you do the same?”
A ‘v’ forms between his brows. “No. You ask me the first question.”
I search his face. And then I realize that this is probably the first time this boy’s actually been given a warm welcome into a group; no matter how small a group it is. The teacher must be keeping track of who was paired with whom for assignments, because before this, we always got to choose.
“Okay.” I nod, giving him a small smile, and then I look at the paper. “Name a famous person, dead or alive, that you would like to have lunch with, and why.” I look at him expectantly. This is an English class. I’d sure like to know what this has to do with English. Unless the teacher is hoping that someone will name an author or something. Like Shakespeare. Lame.
“John Wayne.” he answers.
“Why?” Then I look at his hat and feel stupid.
“I hate television. But his movies I love to watch. Watched them all with my daddy.”
He doesn’t look old enough to appreciate old westerns. “Really?”
“Yeah.” he nods. “Didn’t you ever watch one?”
I scoff. “Honey, the only thing I ever watched with my daddy was sermons. My folks are so christian it would make your head spin.”
“Ah.” Is all he says. And cue creeped out. Right on time. “My mama makes us go to church a lot, too. Either that or we get to slop stalls.”
