I blinked to stop my eyes from rolling. She wished. Along with several others.

Then, I shot him a look to see if he agreed with that statement, but his face was a cool mask. As usual. No one could ever tell what he was thinking. But my gut sensed this girl was just passing through. Just yesterday, he’d told me about messing around with some cheerleader out at the barn, an old building that sat at the end of BA’s campus and was part of the equestrian program here.

I smiled brightly back at Becca, just as fake as she was. “Great. I hope you stay that way.” I rubbed my hands together. “Now, if you two are done, I just spent three hours working my ass off, and I’d like to get my carbs for the day.”

We got in Spider’s car, with Becca sitting in the front seat, while I sat alone in the back. Whatever.

Being alone didn’t matter.

And I had secrets anyway. And that meant keeping my distance when it came to relationships, because if these spoiled rich kids knew my true story, my entire future would be over.

“I blame myself for a lot of things.

Loving her wasn’t one of them.”

–Cuba

SEPTEMBER DRIFTED PAST. I went to school, played football, and partied as usual, picking a new girl to be with every Friday night after the game. I had my choice, being constantly bombarded with offers and texts and sexual innuendoes. Once I’d even hooked up with one of the teacher interns here. Fresh from the university, she’d been impressed with my athletic build, and I’d been impressed with her willingness to do anything I asked. But I was smart when it came to chicks. I always picked the ones who wouldn’t be bothered when I moved on to someone else. That meant most nice girls were out.

I don’t think I’m missing anything. I’m not a nice dude.

By mid October we’d won four straight games, and the sportscasters were calling me the best defensive end since BA had opened its esteemed doors in 1962. I accepted the praise because I needed the focus. Knowing I had something to work for kept me centered. I wanted to forget about my mother, and football helped with that. Girls did too.

As far as Ballet Girl went, I’d refused to let my gaze look for her in the window. No great loss. I told myself I’d built her up in my head; she really hadn’t been all that.

“Cuba, dude, sit over here,” Zero, another football jock, said to me as I entered the BA crowded gym. It was just after lunch, and we had an assembly today with a college recruiter. They came about once a month from various places, selling their universities. Today’s speaker was from Princeton.

I headed to where Zero sat. His real name was Zack and not only were we teammates, but we were kinda friends. Like mine, his family was prominent in Highland Park. Yet, he didn’t know everything about me. He didn’t know what I’d done four years ago.

Truthfully, I didn’t connect with anyone here, although if you asked most of them, they’d say we were good friends.

I sat down next to him.

“You been bulking up, Hollywood?” Zero was big into fitness.

I flexed an arm muscle. At six foot three inches I was already broader and taller than my dad. And I loved to work out because the burn it gave me numbed me out and made me so exhausted that by the time I got home and finished my homework, I’d crash.

Because I didn’t want to think about what was going on with my family.

I nodded. “Yeah. Swimming is good too—” and those words came to a halt as the pink swish of a skirt passed in front of me. The girl wearing the skirt plopped down in a seat directly in front of me. She also wore a grey hoodie, and her feet were stuck in a pair of knock-off Uggs. Pale pink tights were on her legs.

Holy fuck. Was that her?

It had to be. I’d know that skirt and those legs anywhere.

My cock tightened, and I adjusted myself in my seat, my mind churning.

This dude everyone called Spider sat down next to her, and she smiled up at him.

Oh. They must be a couple. And why did I feel disappointed?

Then another girl—this one a blonde—sat on the other side of him, making me wonder which he was banging. Because he started talking to both of them, even going so far as to wrap an arm around each of their chairs. But his attention seemed more on Ballet Girl. Huh. Was the dancer seeing the notorious English kid who had a rep as a hothead?

It didn’t fit with what I had in my head. And it pissed me off.

Surprising myself, I scooted my chair over, trying to get a look at her profile. Because what if I’d been sitting next to her every day for the past two months in Calculus or wherever and hadn’t even known it?

“Dude, you’re right on top of me.” Zero sent me a questioning look as I leaned over in his space.

I moved back to my side. Feeling off.

Why did I care what she looked like?

“Just trying to see the speaker,” I muttered, since the assembly had already started.

Zero stood. “Dude, if it’s that important to you, let’s switch, then.”

I jumped on it, getting up and letting him have my seat. I settled back in the hard chair and let my eyes eat her up.

I had a great view. Her dark hair was scrapped back in a tight bun, giving me full access to her soft profile. The first thing I noticed right away was the curve of her lips and how full they were. I wondered if her mouth was always that pink or if she wore lipstick. Her skin was milky white with high cheekbones and a straight nose. I didn’t see what color her eyes were, but her lashes were incredibly long and black.

She smiled at something, and I lost my breath. Just a little. She wasn’t beautiful or made-up like some of the girls here. At all. But, she was lovely to look at, delicate yet with a strong body that she’d obviously worked on for years. She laughed again, and just the sound of it mesmerized me. Maybe because within her laugh, I detected a unique quality about her, something I didn’t have. She seemed hopeful and optimistic, like she believed in fairytales and butterflies and shit.

Yeah, stay away from that.

I avoided Mary Poppins type girls.

But then why did I find myself leaning forward, just a little closer. Dying to see the color of those eyes. Needing to see her face up close.

Someone sat on the other side of me, coming in late to the assembly.

I glanced over to see Nora Blakely, resident BA genius, National Belltone Spelling Bee Champion, and all around odd person. We didn’t talk much, but we’d grown up together here in Highland Park. And I liked her.