Mr. Kendrick scribbles something on the board, but I can’t focus with that constant annoyance sitting behind me and Paige glaring daggers every time I try to steal a glance a Theo.
I’ll have to talk to the counselor. No way I’ll survive chemistry like this. My stomach clenches at the thought of spendingan entire semester sandwiched between Paige’s territorial glares and Rick’s juvenile antics.
If only I could disappear into my textbook. Chemistry itself I could handle—molecules follow predictable rules, unlike Paige, whose eyes flash warning signals every time I so much as take a breath near Theo.
And Rick? I’m not sure what his problem is, anyway. Maybe if I sit absolutely still and avoid eye contact with every human being for the next eight months . . .
Hard pass. I need out.
When the bell rings, I don’t waste a second. I shove my textbook, notebook, and folder into my backpack and make a beeline for the door.
Chapter 2
Icatch up with Stephanie by the lockers. The hallway buzzes with first-day excitement around us, but all I feel is dread churning inside me.
“It was a total disaster,” I say, yanking my locker door open before I shove my chemistry textbook onto the top shelf like I never want to see it again. “I have to get out of there.”
Stephanie leans against the adjacent locker, flinching as someone’s shoulder bumps into her backpack. Her brown eyes search my face with the kind of concern that makes me grateful I have someone here I can vent to. “It’s the first day of school, Chrissy. Maybe you can still change your schedule?”
“I hope so.” I slam the metal door shut and glance down the hallway toward the counselor’s office, where a line of what I imagine equally desperate students snakes out the door. It’s so disheartening—I’ll have to come back later. “If I’m lucky, maybe I can swap chemistry for another class.”
We break off from the hallway traffic, bumping against each other as we squeeze through a cluster of freshmen who haven’tfigured out hallway etiquette yet. I duck under a senior’s outstretched arm as he high-fives a friend, and Stephanie grabs my elbow to keep me from colliding with a teacher wielding a stack of papers.
“My foolproof plan of staying under the radar is already crashing and burning,” I mutter, hitching my backpack higher as we hit the stairs to the third floor. “Paige is going to make this class a living hell, I know it. Can you believe she forced me out of my seat so Theo could sit next to her?” My voice rises despite my effort to keep it down. “Oh, and Rick Sanders is behind me, hurling paper balls at my head like I’m a target.”
A group of jocks runs down the stairs like they’re late for practice, nearly crashing into Stephanie, whose mouth drops as she steadies herself against the railing. “Jerks!” she yells after them, then looks back at me and says, “That’s brutal. You’ve got the unholy trinity all in one class.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to swap first period?” I ask as we reach the top step.
“I don’t know, but with the unholy trinity all in one class, you must do your best to convince Mrs. Waverly.”
“Tell me about it.” My skin crawls at the thought of facing them every single morning for an entire school year. We push through the crowd gathered around the water fountain, the noise of loud chatter and locker slams adding to my growing headache. “If I could somehow make them vanish with some hocus pocus spell . . .” I wave my fingers like I’m casting a spell. “Or, better yet, make myself invisible, then I’d be able to attend every class in peace.” Unfortunately for me, this isn’t Hogwarts.
We pause at the intersection of two hallways, pressed against the wall as a group of cheerleaders strides past, their ponytails swinging in synchronized motion.
“First period should be a warm-up, not a survival test,” I groan, rubbing my temples.
Stephanie hooks her arm through mine as we make the final push toward our next class, navigating through the human obstacle course that is high school hallway traffic. “You’re like the top student in this school, and Mrs. Waverly knows it. I think she’ll understand your plea.”
“Already planning to camp outside her office after the final bell.” We sidestep around a couple making out in the middle of the hallway. It appears some of us seem to be having the time of their lives.
I make a mental note to beg—no, plead with actual tears if necessary—for a schedule change. If I can swap chemistry for Stephanie’s English class, maybe I can salvage this year—or at least my sanity. My mood lifts at the thought. “It would be amazing to have History and English with you.”
The rest of the day is uneventful, at least compared to my morning nightmare. In History, I snag a seat near the back with Stephanie. Mr. Haskins bores us with the syllabus and class expectations and ancient civilizations, but I stop paying attention halfway through his speech, thinking about the ways I’d navigate the predicament I will find myself in should myschedule remain unchanged. I give myself a little shake. It’ll work out—it has to.
Spanish class passes with my head spinning from conjugating verbs, but it’s a blessing to be among others who are as shy and quiet as me.
When lunchtime arrives. Stephanie and I meet up in the cafeteria, where we find our friend Ian sitting by himself, absorbed in a book I have yet to read:A Brief History of Time, by Stephen Hawking.
“Ian,” Stephanie calls, waving as we approach. “You are the only person who reads at lunch.”
He looks up and offers a smile. “Can’t help it if astrophysics is more interesting than my peers.”
Stephanie glares at him as we take our seats by the table.
“Relax,” Ian says. “That excludes my two besties. So . . . how is your first day going?”
I tell him all about getting shoved this morning and my altercation with Paige.
