The Slope Rules Read online

  “Going somewhere?”

  “I thought I’d check out the neighborhood.”

  He smiles from behind his cup. “I was afraid you’d lock yourself in your room in protest.”

  The corner of my mouth lifts. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it. But I can only stare at white walls for so long—and I need some fresh air.”

  “We should probably hit the grocery store at some point, but do you want to go skiing later?”

  I laugh. “Duh.”

  He quirks a brow. “You’re okay renting?”

  “Just this once.”

  “I need to go into town for a bit. How about I pick up lunch on the way back, then we’ll head out?”

  I take another sip. “Perfect.”

  Shortly after he leaves, I slip the house key in my pocket and step into the brisk morning sunshine. The brochures weren’t kidding when they said it’s sunny almost every day. I shield my eyes as I make my way down the driveway and nearly collide with an elderly woman walking a droopy-eyed Basset Hound.

  “Good morning! You must be our new neighbors!”

  I position myself so I’m not facing the sun and smile as her face comes into focus. Tight gray curls frame a face swirling with wrinkles, but it’s clear from her grin the lines are from years of laughing. Her head barely reaches my shoulder and she seems even shorter because of a slight hunch. If she laid down next to the dog he’d probably be bigger than her.

  I hook my thumb over my shoulder at the house. “Yeah, my dad and I moved in yesterday.”

  She touches her finger to her lips. “I didn’t see a moving truck. Ernest and I always notice things like that.”

  I bend forward to scratch the dog’s ears and am thanked with a tongue to the face. I wipe off the slobber with my sleeve. “You must be Ernest.” He bays, a low echoing sound that I feel in my chest.

  Her laughter makes me look up. “Oh, heaven’s no. This is Cooper. Ernest is my husband.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Eleanor Sherman.”

  “Cally. Cally Clarke.” Just call me double-oh seven. “My dad’s Tom. Our stuff is supposed to get here next week, so we—”

  With zero warning, Cooper lunges down the sidewalk, jerking his leash from Eleanor’s hand. I catch her arm to keep her from falling as Cooper gallops around the corner onto the next street.

  “Oh dear. I’ll never be able to catch him.”

  I squeeze her arm. “I’ll go. You wait here.” I sprint down the street, praying Cooper didn’t go past the next street or I might never find my way back.

  I round the corner as Cooper’s tail disappears in a row of bushes along the sidewalk at the end of the block. “Cooper!” I wrap an arm around my chest to keep the girls from smacking me in the face. A bra would have been a good decision before I left the house. There’s no sign of Cooper behind the bushes, so I hurry through the yard around the side of the house and slam directly into a chest.

  “Oof!”

  “Sorry!”

  He catches me as I start to fall, but my momentum topples us both into the grass. I’m pretty sure my knee lands in a place I’ve only dreamed about touching and his elbow catches me in my very bra-less chest. A boy around my age with short black hair and warm brown skin is smiling at me.

  I scramble to my feet, and only then do I notice the pair of bright green eyes locked on mine. You’d think those would have been the first thing I noticed. They pierce right through me, jump-starting my heart and causing a blush to creep up my neck.

  A slow smile lights up his face, all white teeth and full lips and holy crap I haven’t brushed my teeth or brushed my hair and what the hell must I look like? His smile deepens and he nods at my arms, which are clamped over my chest. “Are you okay?”

  My face reddens. There’s no way he can tell I’m not wearing a bra, but I feel exposed anyway. “Yeah, sorry. Did you see a Basset hound gallop this way?”

  “Cooper?”

  “You know him?”

  He rubs a hand over his hair. “Yeah, but Dolly knows him better.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “My lab.” He nods his head toward the backyard. “Follow me.” He leads me alongside the house and I follow him over the stone path, staying a few feet back so my breath doesn’t knock him out. We round the corner and—

  “Dolly, no!”

  “Cooper!”

  Mrs. Sherman’s floppy-eared dog is going to town on Dolly, who, from her half-closed eyes, doesn’t seem to mind. “Cooper!” I sprint across the yard but he doesn’t stop.

  I’m mortified. Beyond embarrassed. But despite the absolute humiliation, a giggle escapes. Mr. Hottie Green Eyes smirks, and we bust out laughing. “What a stud,” I say.

  Cooper starts to do his thing again and he grabs Dolly’s collar. “I better put her inside.”

  I slip my hand into the loop of Cooper’s leash. “I should probably get him home. Sorry for knocking you over.” I tug at the hem of my sweatshirt, wishing for the fiftieth time that I’d put on a bra. Or deodorant.

  “Is Mrs. Sherman your grandma?”

  “No, my neighbor.”

  He smiles, and I swear his eyes brighten. “You live here?”

  I check my non-existent watch. “For almost eighteen hours.”

  Yes, his smile is definitely bigger. “Junior?”

  Disappointment pricks my chest. “Sophomore.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m Cally.” I hold out my hand and his warm hand covers mine.

  “Evan.”

  Cooper tugs me toward the sidewalk, no doubt ready for a cigarette and a nap. “Mrs. Sherman is probably worried.”

  Evan squeezes my hand once more, then lets go. “You going to Monarch?”

  I nod.

  “Then let me be the first to welcome you.”

  “I guess I’ll see you around.” I lift my hand in a half-wave and turn to go. I’m almost to the sidewalk when he calls out.

  “Hey, Cally.”

  I turn back.

  “Do you ski?”

  I smile so hard the sun’s probably glaring off my teeth. With a quick nod I say, “Yep,” then follow Cooper back to Mrs. Sherman, my heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. If there are more kids like Evan at this school, how bad can it be?

  You met a cute boy within 24 hours. The first day of school will be cake.

  As long as I don’t knock anyone else over. You think Evan will talk to me? I haven’t seen him since the Cooper sex-show and the boost of confidence over knowing someone in my new school has fizzled as the first day grew closer.

  He practically felt you up. He’ll talk to you.

  Easy killer. I’m not ready to go there yet. Broken heart, remember?

  So don’t give him your heart. But your number...

  I smile. Sophia makes it sound so easy. Gotta finish getting ready. Love you.

  Good luck! xoxo

  I tug at my sweater, but it doesn’t magically make me look any different than I did five minutes ago. I shove my phone in my back pocket, take a deep breath, and make my way to the car where Dad’s waiting, engine running.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Remember, no matter how good or bad your day goes, it’ll eventually end, just like every day before it.”

  I level my gaze at him. “Are you reading daily affirmations again?”

  A smile touches his lips. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “Thanks, but no more inspirational quotes.”

  He nods, and pulls out of the driveway.

  Any qualms I had about not fitting in ease the moment I step through the front doors. It smells like every school I’ve ever been in: a combination of musty desperation and bleached anxiety with a dose of stale hormones. Several kids smile as I paus
e inside the main entrance, and a scrawny girl with a mop of curls on top of her head helps me find the office. An aide brings me to my first class, where the warm fuzzies continue.

  I text Sophia as I’m heading to lunch. People are oddly nice.

  Pleasantville nice?

  It’s weird. I expected at least a couple bitches.

  School sucks without you.

  :(

  I pause outside the cafeteria and take a deep breath. As awkward as it is being the new kid, classes are easy because the teacher tells you where to sit. Lunch is a free-for-all.

  The line snakes along the back wall, giving me a chance to survey the room. The jocks are easy to spot, but after that it’s harder to determine the pecking order. Laughter rings out from a table near the windows, drawing the attention of half the room. Two blond girls and another with a sleek, dark ponytail giggle over their trays, smiling at Evan.

  Evan!

  I’d begun to wonder if I’d imagined him, but there he is, his smile doing things to my pulse from across the room.

  “What can I get you?”

  I start to turn around, then do a double-take at a boy walking toward the exit. There’s something familiar about the way his hair falls in his face, but half the boys my age have that haircut.

  “Miss?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry.” I point at piece of pizza, then grab an apple juice from the case near the cashier. I look back but the boy is gone. I must be imagining things.

  “Cally!” Evan’s standing halfway between me and his table. “Over here.”

  Relief floods through me. I don’t have to sit alone. I follow him to his table but as we get closer, the nerves return in full force. It’s not that I don’t get along with girls—Sophia is proof of that—but they can be judgmental and catty and—

  The girls swivel their heads in unison, matching smiles lighting their flawless faces. “Hi, Cally,” says the model-hot blond in the middle. “I’m Brianna. This is Mikayla,” she gestures to the other blond, who’s junior-varsity attractive compared to Brianna, “and Kenzie,” the dark-haired girl who, now that I’m closer, I realize is a stunning combination of Pacific Island exoticness. “You know Evan. The other guys are Reece and Austin. Welcome to Monarch.” Reece and Austin are built for outdoors and equally hot—I’m sensing a pattern with Brianna’s friends—but pale in comparison to Evan.

  “Uh, thanks.” There’s no way I’m going to remember all that. I pull out the empty chair, feeling immensely inadequate. Did I somehow end up at the School for the Future Models of America?

  “How do you like Boulder so far?”

  “Are you from the East Coast?”

  “Is it true your family owns that new brewery downtown?”

  I meet the blond’s eyes who asked the last question. “Brianna, right?” She nods. “Yeah, that’s ours.”

  One of the guys laughs. “What kind of a name is Calliope?”

  “What’s with the purple?”

  “I think it’s cool!”

  Evan smiles at me. “It’s named after you?”

  My cheeks redden. I’ve heard all this a million times, but I still get sweaty and tingly when people ask me about the name. “Yeah.” I shrug. “My dad was feeling sentimental. But the one in Vermont isn’t purple.”

  Brianna leans forward, eyes sharp. “So it’s a chain?”

  I suddenly feel like I’m facing a firing squad. I sit up straight. “No, just the two.”

  “Bri’s family owns Mischief, the monstrosity the next block over,” says Reece. Or is it Austin?

  Brianna gives him a look that wipes the smile from his face and the pecking order becomes clearer. Brianna is definitely their leader. And she doesn’t tolerate bullshit.

  He holds up his hands. “The highly successful and dope monstrosity.” The look on his face—a hint of apology mixed with cockiness—reminds me of Hunter, who’s more likely to blurt out whatever he’s thinking and deal with the consequences—in this case, Brianna’s anger—later.

  She rolls her eyes away from him and smiles at me, but the warmth from before is gone. “Do you ski?”

  “Yeah.”

  The blond on her right perks up. “You should come with us Saturday!”

  Brianna cuts her a look that I can’t decipher, but it’s replaced with a smile so wide my own cheeks hurt. “We hit Eldora every weekend. Can you make it?”

  On the surface the invitation seems friendly enough, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m stepping into a viper pit. Never mind that this will be the first time I’ve hung out with more than one girl outside of the ski team since I was ten years old. “Sounds like fun.”

  Evan smiles at me again. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”

  Okay, if the guys will be there this won’t be too bad. But our gear better be there when I get home—no way in hell I’m using rentals with these girls.

  ***

  After lunch, I’m grabbing books for the second half of the day when my stomach lurches and I drop one on my foot. Hallucinations aren’t really my thing but I swear that was Blake who walked by.

  “Stop it,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head. I slam my locker shut and hurry in the direction I’ve been told is my English class. The bell rings and kids scatter. One of the blond girls at lunch—Mikayla, who insisted I call her Mike—offered to draw me a map, but I shrugged her off. Now I’m alone in the hallway, clutching my class schedule.

  By the time I find the classroom and open the door, the teacher has already started. Dressed in skinny jeans and a long sweater, she greets me with a warm smile. “You must be Cally.” I nod and she points to an empty desk against the far wall.

  I’m just settling in when the door opens again.

  “Sorry, Ms. Simpson.”

  My head snaps up.

  That voice.

  I know that voice.

  My heart stops and I can’t seem to catch my breath. His head is lowered so his hair falls in his face but my body seems to register what’s happening before my mind fully comprehends who’s walking toward me.

  “Blake, I’d hoped we’d get started on the right foot this semester.”

  He turns down the aisle before mine and sits in the second-to-last desk.

  I whip my head forward before he catches me staring.

  Did he see me?

  Does he know I’m here?

  Why is HE here?

  I force myself to face the front of the room, but the urge to peek at him is so strong I can almost feel a hand on my head forcing me to turn around.

  Ms. Simpson continues the lesson, but I don’t hear her.

  When the bell rings an eternity later, the back of my neck is on fire. I don’t know if he was actually staring at me but it feels like it. I grab my books and follow the other kids to the door, unable to decide if I want him to see me or not. Did he know he’d be here when I told him I was moving? Why didn’t he say anything? My stomach plummets to my shoes. Or is this why he stopped texting? I make it to the front of the room with my eyes glued to the girl in front of me, but a shout in the hallway makes me look up. Blake’s a few feet away, eyes on me. The lopsided half-smile flits across his face for a second, but then it’s gone so fast I think I imagined it and he’s walking out the door ahead of me.

  What the hell was that?

  Once in the hallway, I take a deep breath and before I can change my mind say, “Blake!” The desperation I’ve felt over the past month fills that one word and while it’s not loud enough to be a shout, his slight pause tells me he heard. He turns enough to lock eyes with me again, but this time he doesn’t smile.

  Just as my heart’s about to get trampled by the kids swarming around me, an arm loops through mine and tugs me down the hall.

  “Please tell me you’re not friends with Blake.” Brianna s
ays his name like he’s not worth her breath. He turns down a hallway and my body wants to follow, but there’s no escaping Brianna.

  “We met—”

  “Listen to me. Don’t waste your time with a Ski Bum. Sure, he’s easy on the eyes, but how far will that get you?”

  What the ever-loving cluck is she talking about? I glance at her from the corner of my eye. Pointing out that I’m fifteen and am not exactly concerned with where dating a boy will get me beyond, I don’t know, making out in his car, doesn’t feel like the right thing to say.

  She stops and faces me, her sharp eyes focused on mine. “I’m trying to help you, Cally, and I don’t help everyone. Eating lunch with us put you on the right track, but Blake and his friends...” she shakes her head. “Let’s just say, they’re no Moguls.”

  I wait for her to laugh, but the determined look on her face doesn’t waver. “Should I know what that means?”

  “Evan. Austin. Reece. The Moguls.”

  Laughter bubbles inside me but I bite my cheek to keep it in check. “They have a name? Like a gang?” I’ve wandered onto the set of a teen movie.

  She rolls her eyes. “Not a gang. More like a club. They’re the Moguls and me, Mikayla, and Kenzie are the Snow Bunnies.”

  A snort escapes before I can stop it. I cough into my hand, hoping she didn’t notice.

  She raises an eyebrow, assessing me. “If you ski with us this weekend, your social status is locked. And,” a smile softens her features, “I’m sure Evan would be more than happy to keep your mind off what’s-his-nuts.”

  “Evan?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you at lunch and I know you met over break. Now I’m not saying you have to date him, but it’ll help your standings to date a Mogul while you’re going through initiation.”

  “Initiation?” And now I’m a parrot. Just because I don’t hang out with many girls that doesn’t mean I’m intimidated by them, but this has gotten so bizarre it’s like I’ve forgotten the basic conversation skills I learned in kindergarten.

  Her jaw drops for a mili-second. “To be a Snow Bunny.” She lets out a dramatic sigh. “Just do what I say and you’ll have your pick of guys by the end of the month.” The bell rings and she plasters on a bright smile. “See you later!”