Until Lauren Green came back into my life andset up camp.
“I agree,” she says. “I learned early on that being alone is more productive than constantly being around people. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time with the people I love—I just have my limits.”
“If I ever push those limits, let me know.”
Lauren gives me a soft smile, but something shifts in her expression. It’s like she’s realized something, and I know what’s coming. “Why did you hate me in school?” Her eyes are locked onto mine, expectant and nervous. I get the sense this is the question she’s always wanted to ask.
I take a breath. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
Back Then- Willow High School.
Just three more years, and I’m out of here, free from all this high school crap. The school is basically mine, thanks to my parents and their mountain of money. I can get away with pretty much anything, no consequences. The teachers wouldn’t dare cross a Walker. I’m pretty sure they get briefed on Day One about which students are untouchable.
Spoiler alert: that’s me and my siblings. And none of us are about to turn down the VIP treatment. I mean, why would we? If it makes life easier, I’m all for it.
My brother Killian mentioned some of the girls were already swapping locker info on Facebook, trying to figure out which one belonged to which Walker. Apparently, they think it's the ultimate way to get our attention, leaving gifts or love notes or whatever. When I finally reach my locker, a blonde girl is standing in front of it, furiously trying—and failing—to unlock it with my combination.
“It’s not going to work. If you want to leave me a note, you can just hand it to me in person,” I say, flashing my go-to charming smile. It never fails.
I’ve known since I was a kid that my face has a way of opening doors. I’m not even eighteen yet, but I already know that when I am, there won’t be much stopping me from getting exactly what I want.
The blonde girl spins around, and the look on her face is so furious that I almost laugh out loud. Not a full laugh, just a quick snicker—the kind of millennial chuckle that’s all nose. Her eyes are bright green, and she’s wearing pale, pink-framed glasses. Her face is heart-shaped, dotted with freckles across her nose and cheeks. It’s a delicate kind of beauty—different, not what I’d expect, butinteresting.
“Excuse me?” she snaps.
I nod toward the mess she’s making of the locker. “That’s my locker.”
“No, it’s mine,” she insists, turning back to keep entering the wrong combo like she’s determined to break into Fort Knox.
“I’mprettysure it’s mine. Look.” I gently nudge her aside to standin front of the locker, but I wait for her to look away before entering the combo.
She rolls her eyes dramatically.
The locker pops open just like I knew it would, and I extend my hand to her; she glares at me like I’m the one who’s confused.
“What?” she asks.
“I want my letter,” I say, dead serious.
She raises an eyebrow. “Why would I write you a letter? We literally just met. Plus, I’m standing right here. If I’ve got something to say, I would try verbal communication.”
So, yeah, she is definitely at the wrong locker.
“Then tellthem.” I point at the pile of letters already stuffed inside. Clearly not meant for her.
She barely glances over my shoulder, totally ignoring what I’ve just shown her. “Goodbye,” she says flatly and walks away like I was never there.
“Wait!” I call out, touching her shoulder with just the tips of my fingers.
She stops, turns around, glances at my hand, then at me. I feel a weird rush of awkwardness and pull my hand back as fast as I’d put it there. “Do you at least know which locker is yours?”
“No, but I will get help” she says flatly like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.
“Do you want me to help you?” I ask, surprising even myself with the question. Why am I so desperate to keep her here for just a few more minutes?
She raises an eyebrow. “Ijustsaid I’m getting help. If anyone’s qualified to help me, it’s them. Why would you offer? You’re just another student, like me.”
I smirk. “I’m notjustanother student. I’m a Walker.”
