The guys all turn around. Alex is watching me with concern. “Summer, can I be blunt?”
That doesn’t sound ominous at all. I already freaked out in front of them, so what could be worse?Don’t ask those kinds of questions, Summer,I internally berate myself. “Yeah, okay.”
“Did you flinch at the contact or from hitting the racks?” Alex asks.
“Hey man,” Seb says, coming to my defense, but I put my hand on his arm. These guys hardly know me, and still protected me. They deserve to have some information.
“It’s okay, Seb. It was the contact, Alex. I haven’t been good with touch since last year.”
He nods. “Thank you for telling us, Summer. We will all keep a closer eye out so this does not happen again.” He steps closer, looking at my head. “Your forehead is red. It seems you hit the racks there. It may bruise. Would you like to see the nurse?”
“No, I’ll be okay, but thanks.” Panic attacks always drain my energy reserves. It's what I imagine coming down from a drug high to be like. I just want a nap now. I’m still embarrassed as well. From the heat of my body, I imagine I’m reminiscent of a ripe tomato.
I watch Nick look me over from head to toe. When he makes eye contact, he nods and leaves. Bay gives me a small smile and wave, then he takes off for class as well.
“E and Alex have AP Chemistry with you next. Are you okay to head to class with them, Sunshine?” Seb asks.
“I’m good, Seb. Thank you,” I say sincerely. “Get your butt to class.” I poke him in the side to get him moving, trying to lighten the mood.
He squeezes my hand, then gives E a quick kiss on the cheek and leaves.
“Sorry about that, guys,” I say to Alex and E. “Let’s get to chemistry.”
“No apology required, Summer,” Alex assures me, stepping up to my left side.
“I agree with Alex. No one should apologize for trauma.” E gives me a gentle smile from my right.
I consider myself lucky to have these guys in my life after coming to South Carolina. When we get to class, Alex again introduces me to the teacher, Mrs. Voight, who is an older lady with a grey bun and large glasses. “Hello Summer. Welcome. Here’s your textbook. We already have an even number of lab partners, I’m afraid.”
“Summer can join us, Mrs. Voight,” Alex says.
“I figured, Alex. Let the boys catch you up on everything, and if you need extra help, come find me,” she smiles.
“Thank you, Mrs. Voight,” I say and follow Alex and E to their lab bench.
The class is similar to AP Biology. Mrs. Voight lectures before we begin the lab. We are studying titration today using sodium hydroxide and hydrogen chloride. Alex does the equations, E gathers supplies, and I do the setup. We all take part in making the dilution of chemicals and performing the titration, repeating the process again with me doing the calculations, E doing the setup, and Alex gathering supplies. We work on the additional problems and the titration curve together.
Both guys are smart and knowledgeable, and we seem to work easily together. Alex turns in our papers for us when we’re done, as I review the syllabus in the time remaining. Luckily, it seems this course is only one week ahead of where I was in Virginia.I ask Mrs. Voight if I can complete the lab I missed and, of course, Alex volunteers to help. We will do the chemistry lab on the same day he booked the biology lab. Alex is turning out to be a real sweetheart.
My last class of the day is gym. I go to my locker to get my gym bag before heading to the gym building through the school’s back door. I find Nick standing outside the building. “Are you waiting for me?” I ask.
I get a nod, so I follow him across the yard. He leads me inside and pauses at an office in the hallway; the door labeled Berry, and knocks. Nick opens the door after hearing, “Come in.”
He sticks his head into the room, saying, “new girl,” and motions for me to enter. I step in as he leaves towards the court.Okay then.
“Hello. You must be Summer. I’m Coach Berry. Have a seat.” She is an intimidating woman, dressed in shorts and a tee, whistle around her neck. She has a no-nonsense look about her.
I sit in the chair facing the desk. “Hi, yes, I’m Summer,” I greet with a small smile. My palms feel a little sweaty from nerves. My body has been jittery all afternoon, little tremors running from my fingertips to my feet at random times.
“Your extracurricular activity is track?” She asks, flipping a pen through her fingers.
“I ran the 400 and 800 meters.”
“Have you tried the 200m relays?”
“No, I haven’t. My last school didn’t run relays,” I reply, wiping my palms on my pants. I take measured breaths to calm my rapid heartbeat.
“Any interest in jumps or pole vaulting?” She cocks her head, running her eyes over me. Not in a creepy way, but an assessment of my fitness.
