“Hi, Ford,” a girl shimmies up next to me. I glance at her, then do a double take and stop walking.
“Chanel Bywater, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at University High?” Chanel is the last person I thought I’d ever see walking the halls at Lake City High School, or want to see. My neck prickles with sweat.
Her grin gets bigger, and she shrugs. “Nope. My family built a house in Lake City. We moved in last week, so I had to transfer. Today is my second day here.”
My entire body has tensed up. Chanel is a girl I hooked up with the summer between my sophomore and junior year. “Nice.” I try to smile, but I’m not sure I succeed. I rub the back of my neck to keep the sweat from running down my back.
“What class are you headed to?” she asks.
Class. Right. I’ve got to get to class. “French.”
“Awe, too bad I’m headed to Spanish. It would’ve been fun to have a class with you.”
“I better go.” I point down the hall, then bolt like a spooked horse. I sit down in my assigned seat and blow out a breath.
“Problems, Prince Charming?”
I glance at Landon and scowl at him. I’m not about to lower myself to his level by answering his stupid question. Instead, I pull out my French book and get ready for today’s lesson. Except my mind is all over the place, and I can’t seem to concentrate. There’s a reason I never hooked up with girls from Lake City High. Sex is personal for girls. Even if they tell you, they’re okay with having fun or getting together just once. The experience is still an emotional connection for them. Girls are driven by emotions. And me, and every other teenage guy, is driven by hormones and the feeling of getting off. Most of the time, anyhow. That changed for me when I started dating Hannah. Before Hannah, Chanel was the only girl my age I’d had sex with. I’ve fooled around with girls my age, but all my other partners were at least a year older than me. Now all I want is to be with Hannah.
“Excusez-moi, monsieur Cross, voulez-vous nous rejoinder?” I straighten in my seat when Mrs. Bouchard says my name and asks me if I’d like to join the conversation.
“I’m sorry.” I let go of the tension I’m feeling. I’ll worry about it later. I quirk a smile and lean back in my chair.
Before I can answer her question, Landon Phillips opens his stupid mouth. “Trop de ballons Landonsla tête.” This gets a couple of laughs from the kids, who understand that he insulted me by saying I’ve been hit too many times in the head by a football. Except that he didn’t even say it right.
I look straight ahead as I correct him. “C’est trop de ballons à la tête. Vous avez oublié le à.” Then I sit forward, resting my elbows on the desk and tilt my head in his general direction. “Avant de m’insulter Landons une langue étrangère. Vous devriez apprendre à le parler correctement.” Idiot if he’s going to insult me in a foreign language, he should know how to speak it. I turn to Mrs. Bouchard and answer the question. “La réponse est la cathédrale Sainte-Chapelle à Paris.”
She purses her lips looking irritated, but there’s a glint in her eye, and from three years of French class with her, I know she’s impressed. “Yes, that is correct, monsieur Cross, Saint-Chapelle cathedral in Paris.”
An office aide comes in, handing Mrs. Bouchard a slip of paper, and I know it’s for me. It’s going to be this way until I pick a college. She glances at me, waving the paper in her hands. I’m hoping that with patience and perseverance, the school I want to play for will offer me a scholarship. I need to keep my head down, keep doing my best, and play my hardest, and everything I’ve been working toward will happen.
I drop another note off in Hannah’s locker and then shoot her a text message, so she knows why I’m not waiting for her after class. When I turn down the main hall toward the gym, I spot Jack and Tyler. “Awesome,” I say, slapping each of their hands.
“Do you know what school?” Jack asks.
“No clue. I don’t usually find out until I’m walking into the coach’s office.”
“The scout from Boise State met with Jack and me last hour.” Tyler smiles, looking excited.
“What?” I exclaim. “That’s awesome. Did you get an offer?” I glance between my two best friends.
“He said he’d talk to us after the game,” Jack says, a slight frown on his face. He looks stressed. I know he really wants to play college football. If he doesn’t get a scholarship somewhere, he will probably end up at Idaho State University or one of the junior colleges nearby.
I slap Jack’s back. “Dude, you’ve got this. We need to focus on what’s important, and that’s going out and playing football. That’s what we have control over. That’s what we need to concentrate on. After that, everything will happen the way it should.”
“You’re right. I need to lighten up.” Jack punches my arm. “If I get a scholarship, great. If not, it’s not the end of the world. I’m still going to college.”
“Positivity, bro,” Tyler says with a goofy grin. But then he turns around, facing me, his smile disappearing. “Hey, I—”
I cut him off. “You saw Chanel Bywater?”
Tyler’s eyes get big. “Yeah, you saw her?”
“What? Chanel is here?” Jack looks between me and Tyler, his forehead creased.
I glance at Jack. “Yeah, I saw her just before this class. She said her family moved, so she had to transfer here.”
“Did she say anything else?” Tyler asks.
