SKIPPING TIME

Chapter 1

IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS CHAPTER! THANKS! :)

Jess Renazari trudged down the hall, doing his best to shake the inexplicable anticipation that had gripped him since his alarm had gone off at five that morning. All around him, students milled in and out of various classrooms, shouting and laughing over one another, as if high school were nothing but an endless competition to see who could be the loudest. He scowled, hating the knot of hope that continued to send low flutters through his abdomen. He had nine months, eighteen days and four hours left in this shit hole. And he knew from experience that hoping it would get better would only make it worse. He didn't need worse.

 He shook his head at how naïve he'd been one short week ago. Back then, he hadn't met Brandon or Courtney or anyone in their little band of groupies. Back then,  he'd figured regular high school couldn't possibly be as bad as reform school. A cynical half-smile lifted one corner of his mouth. He wasn't sure how one person could be wrong as often as he was. From his first day at this school, he seemed to have developed a superhuman power, like Magneto from X-Men. Sadly, his ability attracted assholes instead of metal.

Jess raked a hand through the dark waves of hair that perpetually fell in his eyes and frowned. Brandon was exactly the kind of douchebag he always avoided. Jess was exactly the kind of "loser" Brandon avoided. They should have never crossed paths. And they wouldn't have, if not for frigging Courtney. According to a list in the guy's locker room she was the, "hottest girl in school."

Jess's lip curled in disgust. Courtney was only hot if you couldn't see the manipulative bitch hiding under the killer curves.

"Hey! Renazari!" Brandon barked behind him.

Shit. Speak of the devil. Jess picked up the pace.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He shook it off and walked faster.

Brandon grabbed him again.

Jess forced his fist to relax and turned, looking at the ground instead of Brandon. "What do you want?"

Brandon came so close the stench of Doritos and coffee wafted into Jess's face. "You don't seem to get that Courtney is my girlfriend. Back off her."

Jess scrubbed at the warm spittle now on his cheek. Already, a small crowd was gathering. He took a few deep breaths, the way his therapist always advised. It did nothing. The judge's voice played through his mind. "This is your last chance, Jess. If I see you in my courtroom one more time I'll lock you up until you're eighteen. At least."

He could not do another year behind bars. He'd never make it. So he looked Brandon in the eye and tried to explain. Again. "Listen man, Courtney keeps talking to me. Not the other way around."

Brandon let out a loud snort and poked him in the chest. A few people snickered. All of them looked eager to see a fight. All but one dark-haired girl on the outskirts. She was half-turned away, as if she didn't want to be part of this. Jess could only see her profile, the curve of her cheek and the dark hair that fell to her waist. But at the sight of her, the mysterious anticipation that had dogged him all day suddenly flared into a bright white warmth that left no room for anger.  

But even as Jess's tension eased,  Brandon growled, "That's a load of shit! If you so much as look at Courtney again, I'm beating your goddamn ass-you got that, Renazari?"

Jess's eyes shot back to Brandon and his spine went ramrod straight. God he wanted to knock that smug expression off Brandon's face. He gripped the spine of his notebook book until the metal pressed painful grooves into his palms. Deep breath. You can do this. Don't hit him. Don't.