“Hey,” Kimmie calls, pulling my gaze to her. She grins, and the blond guy behind her smirks before nibbling on her ear. “I’m afraid this kinda pool party is a little too mature for you.” When I don’t move, her lips turn down in a dramatic pout. “Wouldn’t wanna scar you for life, cotton candy butterfly.”
I barely manage to swallow back my amusement. Skinny dipping in a fancy pool beneath the sun has nothing on skinny dipping in a river in the middle of winter,thenhaving to run home—two miles, buck naked, over rocky terrain—because your neighbor/best friend thought it would be funny to steal your clothes and shoes.
“It’s Blue,” I mutter before glancing around and counting five others, all watching me.
Only one of them is familiar—from first period, I think. She’s floating on her back, tight black curls fanned out, smooth dark skin glowing under the sun rays, and a small stone glinting from the chain around her neck. I recognize the grey piece immediately.
“Your necklace,” I call, nodding my chin toward it. “Celestite, right?”
Startled, the girl darts her eyes to Kimmie and a brunette next to her before responding, “Hell if I know.”
The brunette chuckles, but the girl with the necklace swallows and looks away.
“Okay, well ... see you later.” I turn back to the house, giving a small wave over my shoulder.
“You owe me a Ralph Lauren shirt!” Kimmie’s last word barely makes it to my ears before the door closes behind me.
I grab my backpack and skip up the stairs, a little let down that the yard’s occupied. But I can always plant the seeds tomorrow. So instead, I sit at the desk in the corner of my room and unzip my backpack. A folded piece of paper falls to the floor when I pull out my textbooks and notebook. My brows knit as I reach down to pick it up.
Beatnik wannabes don’t mix well out here.
Welcome to Burroughs High, freak.
I sit stunned for a minute, rereading it once, then twice. I assume the message was meant to hurt me, but I’m more surprised than anything. When the reaction fades, I crinkle the note and toss it in the trash can. I guess this means I’m officially a high school student now.
Grabbing my textbook, I flip it open to the page I dog-eared in class and straighten out my notebook beside it. I stare at the materials for a minute, flicking my gaze from them to the computer, then back again. My chair is stiff, squeaking every time I shift. The desk is ... desk-like. The walls are too white. And a song about a tractor being sexy blares through my window from the backyard.
Sucking it up, I open my notebook, then grimace at my doodles. There’s a string of hearts along the right column. In the center is a pretty impressive swirl that goes on and on and on. At least I wrote my name at the top left corner. It’s really neat too.
I shake my head. Seriously. How does anyone concentrate in those classrooms? Or at desks like this?
After a second, I flip the notebook shut. There has to be a better way. Just then, abuzzsounds from my backpack, and I already feel lighter at the distraction.1 New Message.
Benji: Rise and shine, Blues McGoose. Rise. And. Shine.
I snort and text him back.
Me: It’s the afternoon, smarty-pants. School’s out for the day.
Benji: No shit? That’s dope. Ride any cowboys yet? I mean, horses?
This guy.Even when he’s not high, he seems high.
But that’s just Benji. He was born into this world loving everyone and everything, and love—it’s contagious. You can’t help but feed off his energy when you’re around him. Sometimes, I used to wonder why I didn’t have stronger feelings for him. Other times, I suspected maybe I did, but with so many kinds of love in this world, how do you know when you’re feelingthatkind?
Well, there wasoneway I decided to test the idea last summer. And Benji, he never says no to love.
Me: Yeah, they had a class on that actually. Every student was paired up with their very own cowboy or cowgirl to test drive, then the teacher aimed a rifle at the ceiling and set us loose.
There’s a pause.
Benji: For real?
I laugh as I type.
Me: Yup. That’s the Texas way. How was your day?
Benji: Just like yours. And I started a YouTube channel.
