It was my first day at Elmwood Public High School. The first day of my senior year, and I had no idea how to feel about it.
Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Hopeful. Unsure. Essentially all the emotions.
I took extra time getting ready in the morning, standing in front of my mirror longer than necessary, fussing with my uncooperative hair, reapplying lip gloss, and dissecting my outfit choice. Not because I cared what everyone thought. Okay, maybe I cared a little.
I changed three times before settling on comfort, clothes that made me feel good and confident. I would need all the confidence I could get to make it through this day. The firsts were always the hardest, not that the second or third was much better, at least not in my experience.
Studying my reflection, I chewed on my lip, wondering if I should have gone with the lacy cream tank instead of the distressed vintage tee. Screw it. I had to get going before I was late. Slipping my feet into a pair of worn sneakers, I moved to my dresser, adding silver rings on three different fingers, thinbands I’d collected over the years. The final touch was a crystal necklace resting against my collarbone, the stone catching light and throwing tiny rainbows.
At the last second, I braided my hair loosely over one shoulder, a few strands escaping to frame my face, applied mascara, and added my favorite vanilla scent.
The girl in the mirror looked calm. Put together. Normal.
Precisely the goal.
But really, if I was being honest with myself, which I tried not to be too often, there was only one person I wanted to impress, and I tried hard not to think about him. About those mesmerizing light-green eyes and tattoos. Instead, I cursed Maddox Corvo for making me feel anything at all.
I grabbed my canvas messenger bag, tossed in my phone, a thick-ass notebook, my pen case, headphones, my essentials bag, and headed downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, coffee in hand, and still in her PJs.
She smiled when she saw me. “You look beautiful. I can’t believe my baby is a senior.”
“Don’t get sappy on me. I don’t want to redo my makeup. It took long enough as it is.” I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry, shoving it in my bag for later, just in case my appetite returned.
“How did you sleep?”
I shrugged. “I’ve had better nights.” I didn’t say anything about what I thought I saw. The last thing I needed her to do while I was at school was scour the woods for a potential Peeping Tom.
“Nervous?” she asked, lifting her coffee to her lips.
“Terrified,” I admitted, leaning against the counter.
She crossed to me and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re going to do great. Better than great. You’re Mallory fucking Hales. You can handle anything. Now go showthose boys who the new girl in town is.” She lifted her other hand, the car keys dangling from her finger.
My lips twisted. “I can take the car?”
“Today you can. We’ll figure out a more reliable schedule, but I’m working at home today, so I don’t see why you can’t drive on your first day. It’s not a Rolls-Royce, but?—”
I launched myself into her arms, squeezing. “Thanks, Mom. Seriously.”
Careful not to spill her coffee, she wrapped her arms around me. “I love you, Malibu. I want nothing more than for you to find happiness.”
Wrinkling my nose, I stepped out of the hug. “I’m not sure I’m going to find happiness in a public high school.”
She flicked the end of my nose. “You might be surprised. You might fall in love. Just don’t come home pregnant on your first day.”
“Mom!” Rolling my eyes, I took the keys and headed out before my mouth decided to get loose and say shit about a boy I did or did not like.
The hallway buzzed with voices,lockers slamming, and shoes squeaking against polished linoleum floors. The smell of industrial cleaner, paper, hormones, and cafeteria food hit me as soon as I stepped foot inside Elmwood Public. The halls were more cramped than I’d expected. Louder. And completely overwhelming. Students moved in clusters, gravitating toward people they already knew, laughing about summer stories I wasn’t part of, comfortable in their established groups. Everyone already belonged somewhere.
Except me.
I clutched my schedule printout, trying to orient myself with the school map on my phone, when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“Matcha!”
I turned, relief flooding through me so fast it made me dizzy at the sight of Paisley appearing in the crowd, ponytail swinging with each energetic step, brown eyes bright and genuinely happy to see me. She wore cute cotton shorts and a fitted pale-yellow tee that made her look tan. Atlas walked beside her, scrolling through his phone without bumping into anyone. I wasn’t sure how he accomplished such a task. If it was a talent, or if people naturally stayed out of his way.
“You haven’t skipped town yet,” Atlas said, glancing up from his screen.
