Fuck summer. Seriously!!. Three months of wiping ketchup off sticky tables at Aunt Karen's greasy spoon, praying none of my classmates rolled in for a burger and saw me in that hideous green apron. I swear, if one more person had asked for extra ranch while calling me "sweetie," I would've dumped the bottle over their head. But miracle of miracles- no one from Westview High showed up. I survived. Barely.
Now it's September, Sophomore year, and Senior year gets all the hype—prom, college apps, "lasts"; but sophomore year? That's when you actually start owning the place. Freshmen are still lost, seniors are pretentious, and juniors are just tired. Sophomores? We're dangerous. We know enough to be cocky, not enough to be careful. We've figured out how to vape in the bathroom without coughing up a lung, we know which teachers will let you slide on late work if you flash a little cleavage, and we're horny enough to make bad decisions but young enough that mommy still pays the phone bill. Perfect!!!
I adjusted the strap of my black leather jacket—real leather, not that pleather bullshit and let it fall open just enough. Underneath it was a tiny white crop top that barely grazed the waistband of my pleated mini skirt. The skirt's was so short that if I bend over to pick up a dropped pen, half the hallway would have gotten a free show. Mom bought it for me last month from the boutique where she works. She's the manager now, which means employee discount and zero judgment when I walked out with half the slutty section. "You only live once, Hol," she always said, lighting another cigarette.
Only child privileges, I guess. She lets me dress like I'm auditioning for a music video because she knows I look good doing it.
My Hair was in loose, beachy waves because I spent twenty minutes with a curling iron this morning instead of eating breakfast. I ned to get my lip combo perfect so yeah skipping breakfast was worth it. I caught my reflection in a locker door and smirked. Yeah. Off the hook.
I spotted Ellie first. She was leaning against her locker posing for an invisible camera while scrolling on her phone her dark curls spilled everywhere. Ellie has been My ride-or-die since fifth grade.
She looked up, and sawme, and her face split into that evil grin she saves for when she knows drama's coming.
"Jesus, Holly," she said, loud enough that a couple freshmen turn and stare.
"You trying to get suspended on day one?"I flipped my hair over one shoulder.
"If they suspend me for looking this good, then the dress code's the one with the problem."She laughed, shoving her phone in her back pocket. "Xander's already asking where you are. He's in the quad with the usual idiots."
My stomach did that stupid flip it always does when his name comes up. Xander. Best friend since forever. Tall, messy dark hair, always wearing those faded band tees that hug his shoulders just right.
He's The kind of guy who can make anything sound flirty without even trying. We've never crossed that line, but the tension's there, humming under every late-night text, every time his knee bumps mine on the bus.And then there's… well. Other people. People I shouldn't be thinking about on the first day back. People I definitely shouldn't have been texting at 2 a.m. last week while Aunt Karen was yelling about closing duties.
I shook it off.
Focus."Lead the way," I tell Ellie, hooking my arm through hers. "Let's see if this year's gonna be boring or blow up in my face.
"She snorts. "With you in that skirt? Blow-up's already guaranteed."
We pushed through the crowd. Heads turned.
Whispers started. Some girl in a basic cardigan muttered something about "trying too hard." I caught her eye, blew her a kiss, and kept walking. Mean girls can talk. I've got better things to do.
Like figuring out how the hell I'm gonna keep two boys from finding out I've been playing both sides all summer.
Because yeah.
I've got secrets.
And they're about to get messy.