The Boy Next Door’s Secret Crush

*Chapter 1: First Day in a New Town* _POV: Mia Bennett_ I used to think moving was something that happened to other people. Kids in movies. Kids on the news. Not me. Not Mia Bennett from Riverside, who sat in the back of Art Club, who had one best friend and a locker that never got slammed. But that was before Dad stopped paying child support. Before Mom’s night shifts got cut. Before I had to sit in the car while she cried quietly in the driveway and said, “We can’t stay here, sweetheart. I found a job in Westfield. It’s better pay. It’s stable.” Stable. That word felt heavy. So here I am. Seventeen, halfway through senior year, and starting over in a town where nobody knows my name. Mom says it’s a fresh start. I say it’s starting over when you’re already tired. --- The U-Haul truck groaned to a stop in front of 42 Maple Street, and I knew instantly I’d hate it here. Westfield didn’t look bad. Too clean, actually. The houses had matching mailboxes, the lawns didn’t have a single dandelion out of place, and the high school sign on the hill read _Home of the Westfield Wildcats_ in letters that had probably never been vandalized. “Deep breaths, Mia,” Mom said from the driver’s seat, twisting around to smile at me. She looked exhausted. Her nurse scrubs were wrinkled, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the night shift she’d just finished. “New school. New start. You’ll do great.” I nodded and hugged my sketchbook tighter to my chest. Great was relative. At my old school, I’d been the quiet kid who sat in the back of Art Club and never got called on. Here, I’d be the new quiet kid who didn’t know where the bathrooms were. Mom unbuckled her seatbelt. “I have to be at Westfield Community Clinic by 3. Can you handle the rest of this?” “I’ve got it,” I said. She studied me for a second, like she wanted to say more. Then she just reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Call me if you need anything. And Mia… try to talk to someone today. Please?” I managed a small smile. “I’ll try.” She left, and I was alone with 14 boxes, a key, and the kind of silence that only happens in a house nobody’s lived in yet. --- The first bell at Westfield High rang at 7:50 AM. I’d walked the route three times yesterday, memorizing every street corner so I wouldn’t be late. Didn’t matter. I was still late. The front doors were already closed when I got there, and the hallway was a river of students moving way too fast. Everyone had their groups. Laughing, talking, touching shoulders like they’d known each other since kindergarten. I stuck to the wall, trying to make myself small. “Excuse me,” I mumbled to a girl with bright pink hair as I squeezed past. She didn’t hear me. Nobody did. The main office was down the hall to the left. At least, that’s what the map said. I was still staring at the map when someone bumped into me, hard. My sketchbook flew out of my hands and skidded across the floor, pages fanning open. “Hey, watch it—” I started, then stopped when I saw who it was. He was tall. Taller than me, anyway. Black hair, messy like he’d run a hand through it ten times this morning. White and navy track jacket with _WILDCATS_ across the chest. Soccer captain, according to the giant banner in the gym. Lucas Carter. I’d seen his photo on the school website last night while trying to calm my nerves. Mom had said, “Look, they post pictures of the student leaders. Maybe you’ll recognize a friendly face.” Friendly face didn’t cover it. He looked like the kind of guy who never had to try. “Oh man, sorry,” he said, already crouching to pick up my sketchbook. His voice was easy, like he did this for people all the time. “Didn’t see you there.” “It’s fine,” I said quickly, reaching for it too. Our fingers brushed, and I pulled back like I’d been burned. He noticed. I could tell by the way his eyebrows lifted for half a second. “Are you new?” he asked, handing the sketchbook over. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” I nodded, clutching the sketchbook like it was a shield. “Yeah. Mia Bennett. First day.” “Mia.” He said it like he was testing it out. “I’m Lucas. Welcome to Westfield.” There was something about the way he said it that made my face hot. Not awkward-hot. Just… warm. Before I could say anything back, a voice cut through the hallway. “Lucas! You’re gonna make us late for homeroom!” A girl in a pleated skirt and perfect makeup stopped in front of us. She had her arm through another girl’s, but her eyes were locked on Lucas like he belonged to her. Chloe Richards. Student Council President. My future problem, apparently. She looked at me, then back at Lucas, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh. You must be the new girl. Mia, right?” I nodded again. I was getting good at nodding. Chloe smiled wider. “I’m Chloe. Lucas’s girl.” Lucas shifted awkwardly. “Chloe, we’re not—” “Anyway,” she interrupted, looping her arm through his. “We should get going. Mr. Davies hates it when we’re late.” Lucas gave me one more look, something like an apology in his eyes. “See you around, Mia.” Then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd, and I was left standing there with my sketchbook and the echo of _Lucas’s girl_ ringing in my ears. --- First period was English. Room 214. I found it with two minutes to spare, slid into the only empty seat near the back, and tried to breathe normally. The teacher, Mr. Davies, was talking about syllabus and expectations, but I wasn’t listening. I was too busy noticing that Lucas sat two rows ahead of me, and Chloe sat right next to him. She leaned over every five minutes to whisper something in his ear, and he laughed every time. Of course he did. I opened my sketchbook and started drawing the pattern of the ceiling tiles to keep my hands busy. It was better than staring. “Ms. Bennett?” I jumped. Mr. Davies was looking right at me. “Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” All eyes turned. My throat went dry. “Um. I’m Mia. I just moved here from Riverside.” That was it. That was all I had. “Welcome to Westfield,” Mr. Davies said kindly. “Take a seat.” I sank back down, heat crawling up my neck. When I looked up again, Lucas was glancing back at me over his shoulder. He didn’t look away immediately like everyone else did. He just gave me a small nod, like _you did fine_. I looked down fast. --- Lunch was worse. The cafeteria was loud and crowded, and every table was already full. I ended up sitting alone at the edge of a table by the window, eating the sandwich Mom had packed and pretending to read a book I’d already finished. “Mind if I sit here?” I looked up. It was a girl with curly hair and a Drama Club hoodie, holding a tray with two slices of pizza. “Uh, sure,” I said. “I’m Lily,” she said, sitting down and immediately talking like we’d known each other for years. “You’re the new girl. Mia, right? I heard about you in English. You draw, don’t you?” I blinked. “How did you—” “Lucas mentioned it,” she said casually, like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “He’s in my Bio class.” Oh. Right. Lucas. Lily didn’t seem to notice my expression. She just kept talking. “You should come to Library Club after school. It’s quiet, no one judges you, and we have the best snacks. Plus, I’m the vice president, so I can make you official.” I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever invited me to anything that fast. “Okay,” I said before I could overthink it. “Maybe.” Lily grinned. “That’s a yes. I’ll save you a seat.” She left five minutes later, waving over her shoulder, and for the first time since I got here, I didn’t feel completely invisible. --- After school, I walked past the parking lot to wait for Mom. She’d said she’d pick me up at 3:30 between shifts. That’s when I saw it. A white truck with blue lettering on the side, parked near the staff lot. _Carter Logistics_ Underneath, in smaller letters: _Family Owned & Operated Since 1998_ So that’s why Lucas was always on his own. His dad probably owned the company. Big business trips, long hours, never home. Mom had said something similar about her nursing job when we moved. _It pays the bills, Mia. That’s what matters._ I was still staring at the truck when the bell rang and students started pouring out. Lucas walked out with a group of guys from the soccer team, laughing about something. He didn’t see me. He was popular. He had friends, a team, a girl who called herself his. I was the girl with the sketchbook who sat alone at lunch. There was no way someone like him would ever notice someone like me. But then, before he got into a black SUV with his friends, he glanced over at the sidewalk. Right at me. He hesitated, like he was about to say something. Then his friends called his name, and he was gone. I stood there until the parking lot emptied out, holding my sketchbook, and thinking about the way he’d said my name that morning. _Mia._ Like he meant it. --- Mom’s car pulled up at 3:32. I climbed in, still quiet from the day, and we turned onto Maple Street. I wasn’t paying attention until Mom said, “We’re almost home.” I looked up. And froze. Two houses down from ours, a black SUV was parked in the driveway. The same SUV Lucas had gotten into after school. On the mailbox, in neat gold letters: *Carter*. “No,” I whispered. Mom frowned. “What’s wrong?” “That’s—” My voice came out shaky. “That’s Lucas. Lucas Carter lives two doors down from us.” Mom blinked. “Oh. Small town, huh?” Small town. Right. I stared at the house, my stomach dropping like I’d missed a step. The boy next door. The boy I’d spent all day trying not to notice. He was literally my neighbor. --- *End of Chapter 1* ---