“Wait. I love the outfit,” Mandy critiqued politely. “But I thought you said you got new clothes.”
“They’re new to me.”
She rolled her eyes. “If my parents gave me a thousand bucks to spend for my birthday, you wouldn’t see me going to a thrift store.”
It was true; I had a fetish for retro. Today I wore a 1950s-style pink blazer with three-quarter sleeves and giant pink buttons, along with a vintage Dior rhinestone necklace over a plain tee and jeans.
“I only spent half,” I explained. “I thought you could help me attack the mall after school?” I’d really only spent two hundred; three went to the animal shelter for food and new beds. The rest would go toward clothes for college.
Mandy clapped. “Yippy! That’s perfect because I got you a gift certificate for H&M!” She loved clothes, which was why she would be going to Parsons in the fall. I was happy for her, but New York City was really far away.
“I knew there was a reason you were my bestie.” She gave me a mock kiss on the cheek and trotted off to class.
“See you at lunch.” I grabbed my backpack and smiled. Check. First five minutes of school were a success. I hoped the next three hundred and eighty five minutes went just as well.
Everything will be great. The universe likes you. Dax will notice you. You are not afraid of Janice. Everything will be great. The universe likes you. Dax will notice you. You are not afraid of Janice…I wandered down the hallway, weaving between students. My feet approached the homeroom doorway, and I had to shift my focus from cheesy, unrealistic affirmations to panic attacks. As in, not having one. My trademark move involved stuttering and hyperventilating. But I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t go there.
Have faith, have faith, have…
My nemesis, Janice, was in my homeroom and had been every single, goddamned year. On a good day, she’d show up late and take a seat toward the front, leaving me alone. On a bad day, she’d arrive on time, sit next to me, and peck the feathers from my head. She was truly an evil, sadistic witch. With a b. Capitalized. Embossed on a hanky. With snot.
I stopped in the doorway and looked around, relieved beyond belief not to see Janice yet. I needed a few extra moments to call upon my Jedi bitch-repelling skills. There were several other faces I recognized, though. Greg, the tall swimmer guy. Karen, the all-around nice girl who seemed involved in every after-school activity possible—yearbook, fund-raising, dance committee, etc.—and a few other people who had no idea I existed, but didn’t pick on me either.
I slid into a seat toward the back and began biting my nails.
Mr. McGregor, my homeroom teacher, walked in, a vision of chaos: hair uncombed, khakis wrinkled, glasses slipping down his nose. He was my fave. He headed up the poetry club and theater. “Dakota,” he would always say, “I know high school can be rough, but trust me, things become infinitely better once you get out into the real world. Look at me—I’m happy and successful.”
I get that most people would say, “A high school English teacher? Successful? Eh-hem. Sure.” But he did what he loved, and it showed. So, yeah, he was successful. At least in my eyes.
“All right, everyone,” Mr. M addressed the class. “Welcome back from spring break—”
“Hey, y’all! Wassup?”
Jesus, no.
“Ms. Jensen, so nice of you to join us,” said Mr. M.
My heart and central nervous system protested violently at the sight of her. My hands began to sweat and tremble. The air in my lungs felt instantly polluted.
Maybe confronting Janice could wait for another day.
No! You have to do this, I told myself. You are officially a grown-up, and grown-ups don’t back down from bullies.
But as she took a seat toward the middle of the room, she flung her silky blond locks over her shoulder and flashed a wicked little smile my way. Whoever said an image is worth a thousand words was so right; that image just told me she wanted to make my life hell today. Show no fear, show no fear, you are Yoda…
Then a tiny ray of sunlight burst through the dark, wet storm clouds hovering overhead.
Dax…I sighed as my mind took yummy-boy roll call. Light brown eyes trimmed with thick brown lashes.
Check.
Sandy-blond, shaggy hair, towel dried and left that way.
Check, check.
Heavenly broad shoulders, well-defined everything—arms, chest, legs—encased in low-slung faded jeans, and a snug tee?
Mmmm…Check.
My mind hit a speed bump and popped out of my little drool fest when I realized the only open seat was right behind me, and Dax was headed straight for it.
I straightened my spine and pasted on a smile as he walked by, smelling sweet and delicious and…
Nutty? I didn’t know Snickers made cologne. It totally worked for him.