The Trail Rules Page 3

  “Can’t wait.”

  We have Chemistry together and he’s made it his mission to make sure we’re lab partners. I like science but Evan is a prodigy when it comes to that kind of stuff. When he found out we’re in Mr. Treich’s class together, I thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

  “See you then.”

  “And Mike?” He looks into my eyes like we’re the only people in the hall. “You don’t need her. You’re a better person without them in your life.”

  I know he’s right—he always is—but sometimes it’s easy to forget.

  He saunters down the hall and I head to homeroom, the energy I sucked from Cally and Evan deflating with each step. I hate feeling this way—like I’m only as good as the people I’m around—but I haven’t figured out how to change it. When I was a Snow Bunny I knew where I stood, even if I didn’t always feel great about myself, and now I feel like I’ve just stepped into the follower role with Cally and Evan. They’re both wonderful and I feel horrible even thinking it, but just once I’d like someone to think I’m worth emulating.

  Shouts greet me at homeroom. Mr. Grapandowski—or Mr. G, as we call him—is sitting at his desk, but he’s the only one sitting. Kids are talking a mile a minute and there are lots of fist bumps and one-armed hugs. Homeroom is sorted alphabetically so we’ve been together since freshman year. Mr. G dubbed us the Endies because we’re at the end of the alphabet, and as cheesy as it is, it makes us feel like family.

  I take the seat next to Hannah Westly, my forever tablemate, and bump my shoulder against hers. “Halfway there.”

  She rolls her dark eyes and pushes her wavy black hair over her shoulder. I think part of the reason I adore her is she’s the polar opposite of Brianna. “The halfway mark was at the end of last year. We’re at roughly fifty-three point five percent.” She’s also a math nerd.

  “I stand corrected.”

  “You have a good summer? No relapses?”

  “Relapse—oh.” She means Brianna. After Cally, Hannah was the second happiest that I stopped being friends with Brianna and Kenzie. “No.” I hold out my arms and show her the inside of my elbows. “Still clean. No track marks.”

  She bursts out laughing and spins her pen on the desk. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Mr. G clears his throat and the chatter dies down. Chairs squeak as kids settle into their seats. On any other day, we’d use this time to finish up homework or study for a test, but the first and last days of school are freebies. “Welcome back, everyone. I’m supposed to go over the honor code, dress code, and being a decent human being code, but I think you’ve all got this. Just keep the shouts to a minimum.” He catches my eye and smiles before returning his focus to the papers on his desk.

  “I’ve started riding,” I whisper to Hannah.

  “Seriously!” Her voice carries over the others and Mr. G raises an eyebrow at us. She lowers her voice, a smile creeping over her face. “Evan finally convinced you?”

  I nod. “I’m still terrified I’m going to get decapitated by a rogue tree branch, but I like it more than I thought I would.”

  She laughs. “There are no rogue tree branches. You just have to master looking twenty places at once.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’ve been riding forever.”

  “And trying to convince you for almost as long.”

  A twinge of guilt makes me bite my lip. “Am I one of those girls?”

  “Which girls?”

  I twist my hands on the desk. “The type who lets her boyfriend dictate everything she does.”

  She cocks her head. “I think that’s pretty common among high school students, but now that you ask…”

  I hunch over, my stomach dropping to the floor. “Really?”

  “No, I’m just teasing. But it seems like this isn’t the first time you’ve thought about it.” It’s a casual comment, but it comes out a question.

  While I know I’m better off without Brianna, deep down a part of me hates that Evan broke up with me because of our friendship and that we only got back together after I stopped hanging out with her. He’s never said anything, but the part of me I hate wonders if he somehow feels superior or self-righteous, like only he knows what’s best for me and our relationship is somehow my reward for coming to my senses. I’m sure I’m overthinking it. Evan is wonderful and only wants me to be happy.

  But why does he get to decide what’s best for me? Shouldn’t I be doing that?

  Hannah pushes her hair behind her ear. “Your silence indicates I’ve hit a button.”

  I lower my face into my hands.

  “It’s the first day. You’re not supposed to give into the school-suck until at least third period.”

  I peek at her through my fingers. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

  “Is it? Or are you overanalyzing and making it complicated?”

  “Probably a little of both.”

  “Mike, I really was just teasing. I don’t think you’re one of those girls, but—” she pauses and I drop my hands. “If you’re concerned that you are, it’s up to you to do something about it.”

  But I don’t want to break up with Evan. I startle at the thought.

  Where did that come from?

  Chapter 5

  My conversation with Hannah hangs over me as I walk to first period. Now that I’ve thought that about Evan—even though I didn’t say it out loud—I can’t push it away. He’s wonderful and treats me like a queen. He’s smart, funny, loyal, and half the girls in school would jump at the chance to date him. And I love him. At least I think I do.

  So why won’t this feeling of uncertainty go away?

  I find a chair in the middle of the room and am opening my notebook when a voice at the door makes me freeze.

  Brianna.

  I risk a look up and break into a sweat.

  Kenzie’s with her.

  Their eyes narrow when they notice me. Kenzie lifts her chin and rolls her eyes, dismissing me, but Brianna’s gaze stays on me for a beat longer, like she’s analyzing me. Or trying to send me a message. Her eyes flick to my half-empty latte and her jaw clenches.

  Trail Rule #1: Face any challenge head-on or it’ll knock you on your ass.

  Easier said than done. I choose that moment to be very interested in my empty notebook, and they move to the back of the room. Ironic that they’re in US History with me.

  Mr. Ray uncaps a marker and writes a bunch of dates on the whiteboard, but all I can think of is the two of them behind me, no doubt plotting something terrible. My back stiffens as class drags on, but nothing hits me or gets stuck in my hair. I hear a few whispers, but it’s the first day of school so most likely it’s just people catching up after summer vacation. Bri and Kenzie have bigger things to worry about than me.

  I half-heartedly copy the notes Mr. Ray scrawled on the board and breathe a sigh of relief when the bell rings. Chairs squeak as everyone stands and I hustle to the door so I don’t have to see them. But I can’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder, and immediately regret it.

  Kenzie’s glaring at me, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in a way I know she’s practiced, questioning my very existence. Brianna’s staring at me too, but her glare isn’t as piercing. It’s almost like—nah. I shake off the thought. There’s no way she cares.

  The bustling hallway makes it easy to force them from my head. It won’t be too bad. It won’t. Mr. Ray is known for booting people for disrupting class, so as long as I continue to ignore them, everything should be fine.

  I wind my way through bodies who don’t seem to care about getting to second, my steps lightening as I get closer. Miss Simpson is one of my favorite teachers. I thought I wouldn’t have her again since she usually only teaches freshman and sophomore English, but she added Ethics over the summer. I was mildly interested in this class before—I’ve heard it’s about figuring out the morally right thing to do—but now I can’t wait.

  Miss Simpson is greeti
ng students at the open door. Her smile erases the tension from last class. “Welcome back, Mikayla.” Yeah, she refuses to call me Mike, but I don’t hold that against her.

  “Morning.”

  I sit near the front this time and am tapping my pen against my notebook when Brianna steps through the doorway and my world crashes around me.

  She doesn’t see me at first, but when she does, there’s a slight hesitation, like she has to catch herself from smiling at me. Then her back stiffens and she enters the room.

  But most of the seats are already taken and the only empty desk is near the front.

  Next to me.

  She pauses before dropping her bag on the floor. When she sits, her movements are smooth and fluid. She’s choosing to sit here—not the other way around—and the fact that she’s two feet from me doesn’t seem to affect her.

  Miss Simpson closes the door and all eyes focus on her. I exhale softly. I can do this. It’s just another class. As Miss Simpson writes the word ethics on the whiteboard, I push my hair in front of my shoulder so it’s shielding my face. Bri’s pen bounces against her notebook, ready to take notes, and I tighten my grip on my pen.

  “Who can define ethics?” Miss Simpson asks.

  Heads swivel around me, blank stares meeting blank stares. A girl to my left with short black hair and side-swept bangs with a streak of purple raises her hand. A stud in her nose catches the light when she talks. “Isn’t it about if you’d hit a dog if you’re driving a bus full of kids?”

  Laughter fills the room and Miss Simpson smiles. “Thank you, Jasminda. That’s close.” She looks over the room. “How many of you have heard that story, or some version of it?”

  Raised hands fill the room.

  “Then that’s a great place to start. The story Jasminda referred to is a classic Ethics test. The question asks if you were driving a bus full of school children and a dog runs out in front of you, would you swerve to avoid hurting the dog, which could cause an accident and injure over twenty children, or do you choose to hit the dog, which would surely kill it?”

  Several girls murmur, “Awwwww.”

  “It’s an intentionally difficult decision. We all love our pets, but ultimately they’re animals. Saving human lives is the priority.”

  A low voice in the back of the room says, “Miss S. is a stone-cold—”

  She shoots a look in his direction. “The study of ethics and morality are age-old practices. This class will challenge you and hopefully change the way you view the world around you.”

  Unwelcome memories sweep over me. Brianna telling me to call someone names or give them dirty looks as payment for some slight only she was aware of. Or ignoring kids who were nice to me because they didn’t have the right address or designer jeans. A familiar ache settles in my chest. Maybe I wasn’t as horrible as Brianna and Kenzie, but I’m definitely guilty.

  Movement to my right catches my eye and I risk a glance through my hair. Bri’s hands are pressed flat against her desk, her pen resting next to her notebook, almost like she’s protesting the very thought of learning how to be a decent human being. Is she recalling all the awful things she’s done? The cruel words that have slipped past her lips, shattering friendships and destroying relationships? Or is she so cold-hearted that she doesn’t see how awful she is?

  Miss Simpson outlines what we’ll be learning this semester and by the time she gives us our homework—lots of reading—I’m drained.

  And we’re only two hours into the first day.

  I hesitate before standing, but there’s no need to worry. Brianna is out the door the second the bell rings, her blond hair swinging as she steps into the hall.

  Evan’s waiting for me just outside the class.

  I slip my hand into his. “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “Said I had to use the bathroom.” He kisses my cheek and we step into the flow of traffic. “How’s your day so far?”

  I debate not telling him, but he’ll find out one way or another and it’s best coming from me. “The Bunnies are in first with me, and Brianna is in Ethics.”

  His head jerks my way but he keeps walking. “How’d that go?”

  I shrug. “About how I expected. Kenzie made sure I know she hates me, and Bri—” I pause. Bri what? Sure, she scowled at me, but that’s her normal expression. She didn’t say a single word. “I don’t know. Bri was quiet.”

  “Maybe she’s finally decided to let it go.”

  “Okay, Frozen.”

  He holds a hand out in front of him like he’s an opera singer and sings, “Let it go! Let it go-o-o!”

  I yank his hand to my side and burst out laughing. Kids turn our way but no one is fazed by the random Disney lyrics.

  “But really. Maybe all that is finally in the past.”

  “I hope so.”

  We reach Chemistry and he pauses to let me enter first. Bunsen burners and glass tubes line black tables along the far wall, but the two-person desks are clear. I stop near a table in the middle of the room. “This okay?”

  “Works for me.” He drops his bag to the floor and settles into his seat, then rests his hand on the back of my chair. I sit, letting his fingers brush my shoulder, and try to shake off the past two classes. Starting my day with those two is not how I envisioned junior year going, but at least it’s followed up with Evan. Like a reward for doing something dreadful.

  I turn my head so my lips graze his hand. We know better than to kiss in the middle of class, but Treich isn’t known for being the most observant—at least not socially. Science and experiments are his forte but the ins and outs of the teenage mind, not so much.

  Evan trails his fingers over my cheek, sending a thrill of excitement through my body.

  Yes, this is definitely an improvement over my first two classes.

  That feeling gets me through lunch—despite the fact that I haven’t seen Cally since this morning—and my last two classes are uneventful—a pleasant switch from the start to the day. I thought the floor might swallow me whole when I realized the Bunnies have my same lunch hour, but Hannah saved me from social suicide and invited me to sit with her friends. I couldn’t tell if it was out of pity or if she genuinely wanted to hang out with me, but I chose to believe the latter.

  When the dismissal bell sounds I know I should wait to catch up with Cally or say goodbye to Evan, but she already texted that Blake would drive her home and Evan—

  What?

  What is wrong with me?

  I pull out my phone to text him when I’m pulled me into a hug. “You weren’t leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”

  I twist in Evan’s arms to face him. “No?”

  He presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “You can’t let them get you down.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  His eyes open but he’s silent, waiting for me to continue.

  I shrug. “It’s just, I don’t know. Everyone loves you. You have friends wherever you go.”

  “And you don’t think you do?”

  I shake my head and my eyes water. I feel stupid saying it out loud, but Evan knows me better than just about anyone. “Today felt lonely.”

  He pulls me against his chest and exhales into my hair. “People like you. You’re funny and smart and—” I’m not so sure I believe that, “—you care about people. And they can tell. The first day is all about catching up over the summer. It’ll get better.”

  I smile up at him, but it comes out wobbly. “Did they give you a secret handbook or something?”

  He laughs. “Nah. Just years of observation.”

  I suppose you don’t become as well-loved as Evan without paying attention to what makes people tick. Maybe I should try to be better at that.

  “You heading home?”

  I nod.

  “Can you come over later?”

  I suck my lower lip between my teeth. “Hopefully. I’ll have to do the first-day recap with Mom and Dad, but Chem gi
ves us a permanent excuse to study together.”

  “Text when you’re heading over.” He lowers his head to kiss me and my eyes drift closed. The school’s PDA rules are technically still in effect, but the hall is practically deserted and who wants to bust people after the final bell? My arms slip around his neck and I let myself get lost in the moment.

  But just for a minute. I pull back and he plants a kiss on my nose, then grabs my hand. “Ready?”

  We walk out hand in hand, and he gives me one last kiss at my car. “It’ll get better,” he repeats.

  As I drive home, the feel of his arms around me and his encouraging words play through my mind. He makes it sound so easy. Show you care about people and they’ll like you back! Voilá, insta-friends. Maybe I could make more of an effort—I’m gonna need to if I want to talk to anyone during the day—and Evan is very convincing.

  I just wish I believed him.

  Chapter 6

  My phone dings when I pull into my driveway.

  It’s Cally. Not seeing each other all day sucks. We need a rendezvous schedule.

  I smile. Synchronized bathroom breaks?

  Seriously. Who made this schedule?

  Friendless souls with a black heart.

  lol

  I unlock the front door and take a deep breath. The hours between school and when Mom and Dad get home are my sanctuary. No “how was your day?” or “do you have a test coming up?” or “you should put your phone away when you study.” When they’re home, I can feel their gazes following me, even when they’re in another room. Wondering why I’m not as focused as my sister Madison. I’ve tried to explain that school doesn’t interest me the way it does her, but that’s “just an excuse.” It might be an excuse, but it’s true. Life would be a lot easier if I knew what I want to do when I grow up, but I haven’t found “that thing that gets me excited,” which they keep insisting will happen.

  I drop my backpack next to the kitchen island and move through the quiet house.