The Boy I Couldn’t Avoid

The first Monday of senior year smelled like floor wax and new backpacks. I stood at my locker and tried to be invisible. I'm good at it. I've had a lot of practice. Everybody else was yelling and hugging and showing off their summer tans. Alaska doesn't give you much of a tan, so mostly they showed off their new shoes. I just wanted to get my books and get to class. "Sid!" Brynn Okafor came flying down the hall. Her curly hair bounced on every step. She slammed into my locker door so hard it shook. "Senior year!" she screamed. "Can you believe it? We made it! We're alive!" "Barely," I said. "Don't be dramatic." "You're being dramatic." "I'm always dramatic. It's my best quality." She grabbed my arm. "Okay, I have to tell you something. Mr. Dunmore shaved his mustache. Over the summer. It's gone." "No way." "I swear. He looks like a naked mole rat." I laughed so hard I almost dropped my chemistry book. That's the thing about Brynn. She makes the world feel less heavy. Then she looked past my shoulder, and her face went flat. "Oh no," she whispered. "Here comes the sunshine." I knew who it was before I turned around. It wasn't a sound. The hall was too loud for that. Doors banged, lockers slammed, and a hundred voices all mushed together into one big hum. That's how it always is for me. But I could smell it. Mint gum. "Don't turn around," Brynn said. "I'm not." "Just keep walking." "I'm at my locker. Where would I walk?" "Anywhere." Too late. A hand came down on my stack of books, and the whole pile smacked onto the floor. My chemistry book landed open. A pencil rolled away like it was trying to escape. Somebody laughed. Then a bunch of somebodies laughed. I counted to three in my head. Then I turned around. Colton Blackwood stood there with his arms crossed. He leaned against the lockers like he owned them. His blond hair was buzzed short. His blue eyes looked so bright they almost hurt. He had on his black leather jacket, even though it was still warm out. Behind him, his friends stood in a loose circle. They looked like a pack of dogs waiting for a command. He chewed his gum slow and easy. "Morning, Little Kit," he said. My jaw clenched. "Don't call me that." "Call you what?" "You know what." "Little Kit?" He grinned. "Sorry. Didn't realize it was a secret." "You're three kinds of a royal jerk, Eric." "Colt." "What?" "It's Colt. Nobody calls me Eric. Haven't for years." He tilted his head. "You know that." I did know that. I'd just wanted to see if it would sting. It didn't seem to. He kept smiling. "Three kinds, huh?" he said. "I'm impressed. Most people only give me one. Name the other two." "Rude, loud, and annoying." "That's three." "Then you're a jerk times three." "Math isn't your best subject, is it?" Brynn made a choking sound behind me. I bent down to grab my books. My cheeks were so hot I thought my face might catch fire. "Need help?" Colt asked. "No." "You sure? Looks like you're struggling." "I'm fine." "I could carry them for you." "You could also fall down a well." "Aw." He put a hand on his chest. "You're thinking about my future." Someone in his group snorted. Then I heard a deeper, softer laugh, and I looked up. Dax Peterson stood at the back of the pack. He's a giant. Six and a half feet tall, with shoulders like a refrigerator and hands like baseball gloves. He looked right at me and mouthed one word. Sorry. Then he looked at the floor like he wanted to melt into it. That's the strange thing about Colt's friends. Half of them looked scared of him. The other half looked scared for him. And I never knew which half I was looking at. I stood up with my books squashed against my chest. "Are we done?" I said. "For now." "Great." "Missing you already." "Go away." "Love you too, Allie Kat." He winked. Then he walked off with his crew trailing behind him like a parade nobody asked for. I stood there with my fists clenched, shaking. Here's what makes me crazy. I heard every word he said. Every single one. Clear as a bell. Even over the crowd. Even over the slamming doors. I can barely hear Brynn when she stands right next to me. I have to watch her mouth. I have to guess half of it. But Colt Blackwood's voice cuts through everything like a knife through butter. I don't know why. I try not to think about it. "Sid?" Brynn touched my arm. "You're really pale." "I'm okay." "You're not okay. You look like you saw a ghost." "I just hate him." "I know you do." She looked at me closer. "But you're also kind of shaking." "It's the coffee." "You don't drink coffee." "Then it's the air." "Sid." "Brynn." She sighed. "Fine. Keep your secrets." I froze. She didn't mean it like that. She says things like that all the time. But my heart still gave a hard thump, like she'd poked a sore spot. "I don't have secrets," I said. "Everybody has secrets." "Not me." "Okay." She smiled, but her eyes were soft and worried. "Sure." I turned back to my locker so she wouldn't see my face. That's when I felt it. My hair felt heavy on one side. It stuck to my temple in a weird, clumpy way. No. I reached up and touched it. Sticky. Squishy. A big gooey wad of something right in my hair. I pulled my hand away and stared at the pink blob stuck to my fingers. "No," I whispered. "No, no, no." "What is it?" Brynn leaned in. Then she gasped. "Is that gum?" "It's gum." "He put gum in your hair?" "When? When did he do that?" "Probably when he leaned on your shoulder," Brynn said. "That sneaky little snake." "Pink gum," I said. "He used pink gum. He knows I hate the pink stuff. It smells like fake bubblegum and dirty socks." "I'll kill him," Brynn said. "I'll actually kill him. Do you want me to kill him?" "Not in the hallway." "Fine. After school." I tried to pull the gum out, but it was stuck deep. My fingers got all tangled in my hair. And that's when I made a mistake. I didn't mean to. I was just so mad. I pushed my hair back with both hands, the way you do when you're trying to see what you're doing. For one second, my hair swung away from my ear. Just one second. I felt the cool air on the little curved piece of plastic behind my left ear. The tiny beige thing that lets me hear the world. My stomach dropped through the floor. I slapped my hair back down so fast I almost yanked a chunk out. Did anyone see? I looked around, my pulse banging in my ears. The hallway was a blur of backs and bags and laughing faces. Nobody was looking at me. Nobody cared. Okay. Okay. I'm fine. I let out a shaky breath. "You okay?" Brynn asked. "I'm good." "You keep saying that." "Because I keep being good." She raised one eyebrow. I ignored it. I thought about Dad. I always do when I feel like this. He used to say, "When you're scared, count the mountains." So I closed my eyes and pictured them. The ones outside my bedroom window. The Chugach on the left, the Talkeetnas on the right. Big, quiet, and calm. One. Two. Three. When I opened my eyes, Brynn was staring at something over my shoulder. "What?" I said. She didn't answer. "Brynn?" "Don't turn around," she said slowly. "You said that already." "I mean it this time." I turned around. Down at the end of the hall, standing in front of the trophy case, was a girl I knew too well. Tess Marsh. She had long golden hair and a perfect, shiny ponytail. She wore tiny gold earrings and a smile that never touched her eyes. She was Colt's ex, and she'd hated me since sixth grade for no reason at all. She wasn't smiling now. She was holding her phone up high, pointed straight at me. Not at the lockers. Not at the crowd. At my head. At my ear. My blood turned to ice. She lowered the phone slowly, looked at the screen, and her lips curled into a tiny, terrible smile. Then she tapped something with her thumb and walked away. "Brynn," I said. My voice cracked. "What did she just take a picture of?" Brynn didn't answer. "Brynn! What did she see?!"