Love is a Fickle Thing || Xander DeWitt

•02•

•BIXLER HIGH•

I know what you're thinking. High school can be hard for the new kid. Well don't worry about me. With a new school, you gotta blend in, you gotta just- and I hit a bike making the rest fall down like a domino effect. Great job Xan.

"Not cool," two passing blonde twins spoke in unison, looking at the collapsed bikes.

"I'll pick that up," I shrugged, trying to play off the embarrassing first impression. I took off my helmet, placing it onto the Rad Rocket.

As I was picking up the last bike, a puff of smoke emitted from a passing motorcycle, causing me to cough out the fumes. When I looked up, I saw the dude park the motorcycle, taking off his helmet. That helmet revealed a gorgeous brunette, with short wavy straight hair. It's not a he at all. She was wearing black ripped jeans, a white tank top with a leather jacket on top, and combat boots. She looked like one of those girls you didn't want to mess with.

I finished setting up the bikes, walking into the school, my eyes still wandering to the badass brunette.

•••

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. I spotted the same brunette from earlier sitting in the front left center desk. Seeing as the seat next to her was open and front center, I decided to sit there.

"That's the bell gang. Find your seats please," the teacher instructed. "Hope you all did your homework assignment. Cause today is pop quiz day."

"That's my desk hair ball," a brunette with a black headband in her hair told me.

"Oh my god," I heard the other brunette groan.

"Uh. Ok. If you say so," I replied, getting up to take the seat behind the snippy brunette.

"Let me see all your faces. You know the drill. Take one and pass it back," the teacher reminded the other students. "Ok. Let's pick up where we left off. Who can tell me the 4 layers of the Earth?" The snippy brunette, badass brunette, and my hand went up to answer the question. "Kenzie."

"Crust, Mantle, Outer Core, Inner Core," the snippy brunette answered. So snippy's name is Kenzie huh?

"Right. And the biggest layer is?" the teacher continued. The three same hands went up, mine and the badass' hands went up lazier. "Alexa?"

"The mantle," she answered.

"It comprises 84% of the Earth. And its made of silicone, magnesium, and other minerals," Kenzie added.

"He didn't ask what it was made of, hair ball," I muttered loud enough for her to hear.

"Thank you," Alexa breathed.

"Great. And the plates that form the shell. What do we call that?" the teacher continued. This time I was desperate to answer at least one question, I pretty much jumped out of my seat to raise my hand.

"Yeah. New guy," the teacher pointed at me. I smirked in victory before realizing I had no idea what the question was. I was so focused on being called, I may or may not have, ignored the question. "It's Xander?"

"Uh yeah. Xander. Or Xan. For short I go by Xan sometimes," I told him. "Um, sorry what was the question?"

"Tectonic plates. Boom," Kenzie scoffed.

"Calm down Kenz. It's just a question," Alexa sighed.

"That's right," the teacher agreed. "And those plates are always shifting, even if we can't always feel it. And that scientific process, what is that called?" Kenzie raised her hand again, along with Alexa. I lazily stuck my hand up, stretching my jaw so I don't say anything I might regret. "Kenzie?"

"Tectonic shift," Kenzie spoke automatically. Does this teacher choose favorites or something?

"Right!" the teacher nodded.

Granted I was only the new kid. But science was my jam. And this little suck up was cramping my style. 10 bucks she's the type of girl who arched her eyebrow and never smiled in pictures.

The bell rang, interrupting my thoughts. I filed out of the classroom, walking towards my next class. I stopped once I noticed a desk with newspapers and flyers on it.

"Swim Meet Ruined by Loose Deuce in Pool. That'll keep me out of the water in this town," I told myself. I flipped over the paper to see Kenzie, arching her eyebrow, smileless, in the photo.

The Kenzie File, by Margaret Mackenzie Messina. Investigative reporter. And there's the eyebrow. Called it.

I dropped the paper back onto the desk. Time for my next class.

•••

Meanwhile, my hot lead was cooling off, so that night after I thought I heard the last flush, I made my move. I was able to open the door slightly before the voice of my grandpa interrupted me.

"You just don't give up, do ya, kid? I promised your mom I'd take you on the level, but take it from me. If you keep snoopin' around sooner or later you get hurt," Grandpa reminded me, knocking on his metal leg. I sighed, looking away from Grandpa before speaking, turning my attention back to Grandpa.

"Grandpa? When was the last time dad was here?" I asked. "Like here in this town?"

"That'll be Christmas, when you said you need to solve the case of my missing pants," Grandpa answered.

"Yeah, well you weren't wearin' any so they had to be somewhere," I smiled, recalling the memory.

"Anyway, that was the last time he was here. 9 months ago. Why?" Grandpa asked. I took a seat on the coffee table in front of Grandpa, taking out my phone to show him my lead.

"This is GPS records from his car," I began. Grandpa nodded for me to continue. "The last record was here in Bixler Valley. 3 months ago. June 25th. That was the day he disappeared," I told him.

"Can they make it any smaller?" Grandpa complained, reaching for his magnifying glass. After looking at the text, he set down the glass, and handed me my phone. "You're not gonna find him there, kid. Used to be the old library. Half the building collapsed."

"But we've gotta investigate. I mean this is a huge lead," I tried to persuade him.

"But let's face facts! I'm a one legged old man and you've got school in the morning," Grandpa reminded me again. I nodded in disappointment. I really thought he'd help me out with this one. As I stood up, Grandpa's voice stopped me. "But, there's not much I can do when I'm asleep." I returned to my seat on the coffee table, looking at my grandpa.

"When do you go to bed?" I asked.

"11:30. Every night of the week. And I sleep like a rock," Grandpa informed me.

"Good to know," I nodded, smiling to myself. As much as Grandpa would hate to admit it, he wants me to solve this case as much as I do.

"Long as you're in your room every morning, I don't ask questions. But, if you get arrested-"

"-won't happen," I cut him off.

"Or get hurt-"

"-I'll shake it off," I nodded.

"Or so help me, wind up missing like your old man!"

"I'll send an SOS," I assured him. "It's the universal distress signal."

"I know what an SOS is, kid!" Grandpa insisted.

"Got it," I muttered to him before heading to my room.

The old man was tough, but he knew a he knew a big lead when he saw one. And just like that I was back at my case.