resfeber (n.)
the tangled feelings of fear and excitement before a journey begins
* * *
THE next morning, I was woken bright and early by glass shattering in the kitchen. My room was directly under it, so I was privy to every syllable of the following screaming match.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I got out of bed and dragged my feet upstairs.
When I got to the kitchen, I noticed shattered glass—hm, I was right after all—milk and Lucky Charms all over the floor. Ethan, Ella, and Uncle Ricky were sitting at the table, ignoring the mess.
It was almost like this was a normal Friday morning in the Hanson household.
"What happened here?" I asked, sidestepping the spillage and grabbing a bowl.
"Efan di it," Ella said, her mouth foaming with milk and Lucky Charms.
"Um, try again," Ethan scoffed. "You're the dumb bitch who threw a bowl at me."
"Well, I wouldn't have thrown it if you didn't throw a cereal box at me," she retorted.
I silently slipped into the seat next to Ella and started eating my Cheerios. I watched Uncle Ricky, waiting to see what he would say.
He just sat there, sipping his coffee and not even batting an eye.
"Does this happen a lot?" I asked Ricky, gesturing to their glaring contest with my spoon.
"Yep," he sipped his coffee. "It's part of growing up with a sibling. Your mom and I used to do this all the time."
I slowly asked, "Are they gonna clean it up?" Why were they sitting there and acting like it was no big deal to have glass everywhere?
One time, I was making strawberry jello and got startled. I spilled the blood-red liquid everywhere, staining and denting my mom's previously pristine floors. She almost killed me for it, and I wasn't even allowed in the kitchen for days after the accident.
"Someone will," he shrugged indifferently. "It's not my job or my problem. I just live here."
"And that someone is Ella," Ethan clarified.
"I think you meant to say Ethan." Ella smiled sweetly and flung a spoonful of cereal into his dirty blond hair.
"What the hell happened in here?" Aunt Kelli shrieked as she walked in.
Now, that was the reaction I was expecting from a parental figure. I started to get the feeling that Aunt Kelli was the type-A parent and Ricky was the laid-back one. They seemed to make it work, unlike my parents.
Ella and Ethan simultaneously responded.
"Ella did it."
"Ethan did it."
Kelli looked at Ricky in askance. He was so engrossed in his phone, he didn't even acknowledge her, much to her growing annoyance. "You two are so lucky that nobody cut their foot."
* * *
After quickly finishing breakfast and getting changed, we were on our way out the door.
"So, is there anything I should know beforehand?" I asked, picking at the chipped green nail polish on my nails. I literally had no clue what I was getting myself into. For all I knew, their school had gangs and was ridden with drugs.
"You'll be fine," Ella reassured me as we climbed into Ethan's car. "Our school is kinda small. Most people just live here during the summer, but the year-rounders are super nice. There's no need to worry."
"Okay. Is there anyone I should steer clear of?" Knowing that people were supposedly nice didn't ease my mind whatsoever.
It was like telling a toddler to simply stop crying: a nice sentiment, but ultimately ineffective.
"Stay away from the girls' dance team. Most of them are self-entitled bitches," Ella said, bitterness fringing her voice.
Yikes, who hurt her?
"Alright. Anyone else?"
She snickered, "The football team. They're the stereotypical playboy idiots."
"Hey, I take offense to that," Ethan grumbled, backing the car out of the driveway. "Some of us are capable of being decent human beings."
"You play football?" I asked. He looked way more like a baseball player to me.
"Yep, a wide receiver. Please don't listen to her. The guys on the team are chill. I think you'll like some of them."
Feeling too nervous to bombard them with further questions, I stayed quiet and waited for them to offer more information that never came. I probably should have put on my big girl panties and asked away, but I didn't want them to get annoyed with me on my second day.
Although, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
We soon pulled into my new school's parking lot. The first thing that stood out to me was the size of the campus; it must have been half the size of my old school. In retrospect, I should have expected it. Haven Beach was a smaller town, which would evidently require a smaller school system.
I looked around as we drove through the parking lot. Most of the students were gathered in small, close-knit groups, ignoring those around them. My stomach churned just looking at it. Breaking into a clique during the last year of school seemed like an impossible task. Especially in such a small town, where everyone probably had been friends since preschool.
On the way to the door, a few guys stopped to talk to Ethan. I didn't miss the way their eyes not-so-subtly raked over my body, assessing me like I was a cut of steak at the market.
I wouldn't admit it aloud, but I was secretly flattered. I rarely received male attention at my old school, so this was nice. Guys always seemed to gravitate towards the popular and skinny girls with big breasts and asses. I was just mediocre Charlotte.
We walked in through what I assumed was the main entrance. It was decorated with a myriad of sports trophies and banners on the walls. There had to be at least a hundred hawk symbols in the circular-room.
"I'll take a wild guess and say your mascot is a hawk?"
"Haven Beach High Hawks," he said. "Super lame, I know."
"Well, try having a chipmunk as a mascot."
He turned to look at me with raised brows. "You're kidding."
"Nope. The Chester High Chipmunks," I said dryly. "Our main office actually kept a real chipmunk in a cage as our mascot. Everyone called him Chester."
When I was a freshman, a few seniors pranked administration by sneaking in at night and setting him free. When the secretaries and principal arrived the next morning, they found the main office completely destroyed. Chester chewed up the papers, wires, and pooped all over the copy machine. Rumor had it that Chester got poisoned and died as a result of his escapades. The school swept it under the rug and replaced him, causing outrage throughout the senior class.
He snickered, "Suddenly a hawk isn't that lame."
His laugh caught the attention of a pack of girls that were leaning up against lockers. They glanced between us, whispered, and simultaneously directed dirty looks at me.
Day one, and I was already the subject of gossip. Just great.
We fell into an uneasy silence as I followed him down the hall to the main office.
I briefly spoke to the secretary before she printed my schedule. I had Calculus, Journalism, World History, Environmental Science, Spanish, lunch, then Photography.
I passed it to Ethan so he could look. "We have Spanish together... Off the top of my head, I know my girlfriend, Aubrey, and our friend, Delaney, have Calc with you first period. I can text them to save you a seat."
"Um, thanks. Which way do I need to go?"
"There's still fifteen more minutes until class. I'll show you around a bit." He began pointing out major hallways, bathrooms, the gym, and the cafe.
I took everything in with wide eyes, trying to memorize the layout and a few landmarks. It was fruitless, directions never being my strong suit. It was like they were a soup, and I was a fork.
We finally came to the stop in the middle of a nondescript hallway. "Here's your first period. Think you'll be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll manage," I lied. "Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it."
"No problem. See you in Spanish." He spun around and walked away.
A few heads turned as I pushed the creaky door open. Face heating up, I briskly walked to the teacher's desk.
She looked up and smiled as I approached. "You must be Charlotte Hanson, right?" I nodded. "I'm Mrs. Thomas. Have you taken Pre-calc or Calc before?"
"Yeah, I actually took AP Calc BC last year." I didn't know why I was even in this class. Calculus Honors must have been the most advanced math class at this school.
"Great. Well, this class will be a breeze for you." She unlocked her desk drawer and pulled out a thick book. "Here's your textbook. You can sit wherever you want."
A textbook in hand, I turned around and scanned the room. A brunette and a redhead waved at me. Assuming they were the girls Ethan mentioned, I slowly walked over to them.
Please don't be bitches. Please don't be bitches. Please don't be bitches.
"Hey, I'm Aubrey LeBlanc," the tan brunette said.
"Delaney Harrington," the freckled redhead offered.
Taken aback by their kindness, it took me a few seconds to respond. "Uh, Charlotte Hanson."
Aubrey took her backpack off the seat next to her, motioning for me to sit down. She was kind and had the thought to save me a seat? Someone please sign me up to be her friend.
"So you're Ethan's cousin?" Delaney asked, taking in my outfit and appearance. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, eyes deliberately avoiding her scrutinizing gaze.
It gave me unwanted flashbacks to Cora and her daily outfit assessments. She was a real-life Regina George—if our outfits weren't up to par, we lost the privilege of sitting with her at lunch. I made the mistake of wearing a sweatshirt one time and was exiled for an entire week. It's safe to say that I never slacked off again.
I swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yep. Ethan's dad is my mom's older brother."
Aubrey furrowed her thin, brown eyebrows. "Wait, then why do you have the same last name? Didn't you say it was Hanson? Shouldn't you have your dad's?"
I was surprised she caught on to that so quickly. Usually, people didn't even ask why my father had a different last name. Either that or they just didn't care enough to ask.
I laughed mirthlessly. "My mom kept her maiden name when they married just to spite him. In hindsight, that should have been a huge red flag. They're divorced now—well, actually, they're in the process of divorcing."
"That sucks," Aubrey said, sympathy shining through her brown eyes. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"Eh, I wasn't close with my dad anyway. He was always working. Not exactly father of the year." I shrugged, not wanting her pity. I had a roof over my head, enough money, and one good parent. I felt like I had no right to complain; other kids had it way worse than I did.
"Tell me about it," Delaney sighed, flipping her long red curls over her shoulder. "My parents are doctors and are never home. And when they are, they won't stop shouting. I'm convinced they're both having affairs."
Mrs. Thomas interrupted before I could respond. "Today we're going to do a quick review of the unit circle. Can someone come up to the board and help me fill it out?"
* * *
For the next few classes, I was on my own to navigate the school. I easily found my Journalism and History classrooms but struggled to find Environmental Science. I debated texting Ella and asking for her to come to find me, but I ultimately decided against it as my fingers hovered over my phone screen.
Finding the science hallway couldn't be that hard. I'd find it soon enough.
I followed students through the crowded halls, hoping that someone was going near S113.
I had no luck.
The bell for fourth period rang, leaving me stranded in the hall with no freaking clue where I was going.
I finally found the S-hallway after an embarrassing amount of time wandering aimlessly. Twenty-four pairs of eyes snapped in my direction as I failed to slip in unnoticed.
"Hello?" the teacher asked, with a lilt in his voice.
"Hi," I squeaked. "I'm new to school... Um, Charlotte Hanson."
Realization dawned on his face. "Fine. Go take a seat. Be on time tomorrow or see me in detention, Miss Hanson."
Blood rushed to my face. He really expected me to know my way around on my first day?
I looked around the classroom for an unoccupied seat, awkwardly catching a few kids' eyes in the process.
I almost sat at the front table, but my eyes locked on the one closest to the back. For some reason, I felt a gravitational-like pull toward it. Against my wishes, my feet dragged me all the way across the room and deposited me in the seat.
Looking back, it was easily one of the best decisions I made that day—maybe that entire week.
"Hey," a deep, husky voice said.
I flinched, finally noticing the guy next to me. "Um, hi."
"Charlotte, right?"
I smiled, "That's me." My heart skipped a beat and did a little flip-flop as our eyes connected for the first time. His grey eyes were absolutely gorgeous. The gold and blue flecks swirled like a kaleidoscope, pulling me into their depths. I swear, I got lost in them for a moment or two. His tousled, shaggy brown hair was just begging for my fingers to tame it. His chiseled face was almost perfectly symmetrical, except for the few miscellaneous freckles.
The hot stranger cleared his throat, freezing me in my intrusive assessment.
"Oh, sorry for staring," I whispered, my blush coming back in full-force. My awkwardness definitely killed my chances at being friends with the hot guy. Although, he was so out of my league, I probably didn't have a chance to begin with.
That still didn't stop me from wishing for a do-over or the opportunity to switch seats entirely.
"Miss Hanson, what is the first step in the nitrogen cycle?" the teacher called out, looking directly at me with a patronizing look on his face. "I'm waiting."
"Um... It's the," I trailed off, not knowing what to say. How would I, though? I took this class to learn, not to show off my non-existent knowledge about environmental science.
He looked at me pointedly, challenging me to admit I wasn't paying attention. All it did was make me wonder how I already got on his bad side; it had literally been five minutes since I arrived.
The guy next to me coughed, "Nitrogen fixation."
"Nitrogen fixation," I announced to the class with a self-satisfied smile on my face. Take that, Mr. I Don't Know Your Name.
"Correct," he said, contempt in his voice. "Next time, pay attention so you don't require Mr. Cameron's help." He spun around and wrote the term on the whiteboard.
"Thanks for saving me," I whispered to the mysterious 'Mr. Cameron.'
"No problem." He leaned closer and murmured, "I like to call Mr. Richards 'dick.' He sure is one."
I snorted quietly. "Seems like it."
We locked eyes for a heated moment before he turned back to his notes, likely thinking I'm a creep. Sighing, I took his cue and pulled out my green notebook.
Glancing at his notes out of the corner of my eye, I furtively copied them down.
The rest of the class droned on uneventfully. I kept my head down and avoided eye contact, so Mr. Dick wouldn't pick on me again.
Surprisingly, it worked. Maybe he did have some semblance of a heart after all.
* * *
A/N: Thanks for reading chapter 4! Please don't forget to vote, comment, and follow! 💚
QOTC: What do you think of the book so far? I hope y'all like it 😊