In the tumultuous landscape of early 2000s high school, Kit Dodger, more commonly known as Dodger, navigates the corridors as a junior on the fringes of social acceptance. Behind her nondescript facade lies a clandestine operation: she runs a covert...
Standing on the opposite side of Madison's locker, Cherry gives an affirming nod. I bite back a smirk. Taylor is one vicious chick. Two weeks ago, she would tell anyone who would listen how much of a shoo-in she and Dylan were for Homecoming Court; now, she doesn't even know she's giving him the Mariah Carey "I don't know her." Listening to Taylor's conversation was never a good idea, but I can't help myself. What can I say? I'm a nosy bitch.
"Anyway," Taylor continued, drawing the word out as she flipped her sheet of long blonde hair over a shoulder to reveal the dark lowlights underneath. After dallying with intense side bangs all last year, she started this school year with a new ombré look. If there's a trend to follow, you can be sure Taylor will be on it. No doubt, next week, there will be a sea of girls at school walking around with varying degrees of high and lowlights. "I was talking about the new kid. He drove up about twenty minutes ago, in a sick ride. He's gorgeous. And apparently, he was, like, a big-deal footballer at his old school. According to Nick, he's pretty much guaranteed to fill the hole on the Varsity team."
Her words set off a little alarm in the back of my mind. A new kid, smoking hot—what are the odds there are two new smoke show Juniors starting on the same day, a month into the new school year? She has to be talking about—
"Cole Jacinto!" Madison's voice pierces my thoughts, bringing me back to the hallway. I turn just slightly, following her gaze, and there he is. Cole. He's wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, a Dead Kennedy's t-shirt over a long-sleeved white shirt, and black Osiris D3s. A slouchy black beanie hides his dark hair. He looks good. Heads turn as he walks down the hall, a skateboard tucked under his arm. I eye him from behind my open locker. My heart and head are at war with each other. There's no way Cole is a footballer. He's too cool, too...not a dick. I flick my gaze back at the Benjamin girls; they take him in with excitement and desire.
"You know him?" Taylor asks, her thin eyebrows shooting up. I can tell by the turn of her mouth that the possibility that Madison and Cole have some kind of history annoys her.
"Anyone who's anyone knows Cole Jacinto. He's one of the youngest-ever All-Americans. Scouts from major universities, including Notre Dame, USC and Ohio State, have come to watch him play, and he's only now entering Junior year." She pauses, giving Taylor what can only be considered a stank eye. "I guess you're only into ballers, eh? Doesn't matter the sport."
"Bitter much?" Taylor shoots back.
I feel like my brain is turning to mush listening to them. Considering they'd gone this long without noticing me, I decide to not push my luck. Cole's stopped now, chatting with two seniors—Braydon Williams and Justin Waller—footballers. I fight back a visible shudder. Of course, he was too good to be true.
He looks away from the jocks, casting his gaze down the hall, his eyes landing on me. His lips quirk into a half smile, and my dumb heart stutters. I place a scowl on my face, slam my locker shut and turn my back on him; of course, that brings me face-to-face with Madison, Cherry and Taylor.
"What are you looking at?" Taylor sneers. I guess she's still pissed about me calling her out last week.
"The embodiment of insecurity." I retort as I push past her.
I stomp down the hallway, forcing students to jump out of my way as I go.
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