First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) (2 page)

A furious, hot blush steals across my face over my sudden bumbling idiocy. “Oh, okay. Are you new to the district or something?”

God, why can’t I shut up?

He shrugs as he continues to study the linoleum under his feet. “Kind of, yeah.”

A sigh of relief escapes me, and I’m not sure why. “Oh. Um, well…I’m Eva Papageorgiou, but my friends call me Evie. It’s nice to meet you. Sorry that it was because I plowed into you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too…Evie.”

He says my name as if he’s testing it out to see if he likes the way it sounds. I definitely like the way it rolls off his tongue, and that realization sobers me up. I usually avoid boys like the plague. If there’s one thing I learned early and well, it’s that no guy, no relationship, is worth the heartache that comes along with it. My own parents taught me that lesson. Guys will either break your heart or break your body. Sometimes both. This new boy’s softly spoken words and entrancing eyes have put me under some sort of spell. I
absolutely
can’t have that.

“I’m sorry, again, but I really have to get to Algebra.” I sidestep him in an effort to scurry off to safety, but after a few steps down the hallway, I can’t resist looking back over my shoulder.

He’s still frozen to the same spot, frowning at a piece of paper in his hand.

The halls empty out. I’m running out of time. I know I should just leave well enough alone, but I can’t. No one’s ever stopped to help me before. The least I can do is treat him with the same kindness he showed me. I sigh, because now I’ll definitely be late, but I walk back to where he is.

“Hey, do you need some help or something? Where’s your first class?”

Instead of answering, he holds out his schedule. It’s almost identical to mine: all advanced placement classes. Despite the fact he obviously has no clue where he’s going, he must be smart.

“Okay, we have first block together. You’re going the wrong way. Come on, follow me.” I hand back his schedule and turn towards our classroom.

He remains stubbornly still, watching me with a curious expression. Maybe he’s not sure whether he can trust me to help him or not. I totally empathize with that.

His books are all resting in one arm, so I grab his free hand to lead him down the hallway. He lets out a rush of air, but doesn’t pull away. His hand is massive compared with my own, his fingers warm but calloused. He never returns my grip for which I’m grateful. The enjoyment rushing through me at this skin to skin contact is jarring enough.

I try to wipe my mind clean of those dangerous thoughts. “Didn’t you come over the summer for orientation so you could have a tour of the building and get a map?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head.

“Well, why not? Did you move here right before school started?”

“No. I missed orientation. My dad made me go to a football combine across the country instead. It was the same week.” In spite of the bitterness in his tone, his voice is once again low and soft.

What the heck was he doing at a national football camp? He’s not a shrimp, but he doesn’t look like he’d last a minute on the gridiron, either. And I know sports. I’ve been an avid fan since I was little, courtesy of my grandfather.

“Okay.” I genuinely have no clue how else to respond to that, so subject change it is. “Well, it seems we have almost all the same classes. I would give you my map, but I kind of need it. We can stick together if you want though until you know where you’re going.”

I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. What in the hell am I
doing
? It’s like I can’t even help myself.

His face takes on a strange expression, but he nods his assent. “Yeah, definitely. I’d love to follow you around all day.”

He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. Cutting my gaze to the side, I see that his face is beet red again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I meant…I just…” He sighs and closes his eyes briefly as I drag him towards our destination. “Thanks. That would be a big help.”

We make it to Algebra just as the bell rings. I drop his hand as we spill into the classroom along with several other students. Apparently, we’re not the only two having trouble getting to class on time this first day.

Alyssa sits on the other side of the room, waving at me and gesturing to an empty desk beside her. Her bright smile, brown sugar eyes, and artsy purple-tipped blonde hair are a shot of familiar in this already weird day. She gives me a raised eyebrow in silent question when she sees my new shadow, following dutifully behind me. Not sure how to respond, I shrug and take my seat. She rolls her eyes in response. Silent conversations are kind of our thing.

He takes the empty seat behind me. I’m glad I won’t have to see him during class. Math has never been my strongest subject, and I really need to be able to concentrate. I can’t afford to act like a stupid teenager, allowing myself to get distracted by his gorgeous eyes.

“Thank you for the help today, Evie,” he whispers from behind me. His warm breath fans over my hair as he leans forward. “I really do appreciate it.”

Goosebumps spread from my neck down my back, and an involuntary shudder rolls through me. Oh, shit. I am in so much trouble.

M
ost people believe everything happens for a reason. I think that’s a load of bullshit, just like the notions of altruism, true friendship, romantic love, and unicorns. They’re falsehoods, misleadings…mythology.

In my experience, optimism is best preserved when not slogging through the mucky trenches of day-to-day life. Stories with heroes, villains, fairy godmothers, and plots that resolve into happily ever-afters are meant to bolster one thing: hope. Ah, that good old bastion of optimists everywhere.

Hope is for suckers.

Life sucks and sometimes, it sucks for no reason at all.

It’s the first day of school, and Jess and I are walking to third block AP biology. The senior hallway is packed with our classmates. Everyone talks, laughs, and strolls lazily to class before the bell rings. What a far cry from the mood on the first day of school our freshman year. Being at the top of the food chain should be more relaxing, but Jess and I are discussing the dreaded “get to know you” intro period to our next class. The most unlikely romances that result from AP biology are the stuff of legend in this school from the time we enter the building as freshman. The phenomenon even has its own name: The Bio Effect.

She’s excited. I’m apprehensive.

My worry isn’t baseless. It’s bred from years of experience. And by experience, I mean having my heart broken. I’m a smart girl, and it may take me a time or two, but eventually I learn my lessons. Boys are nothing but trouble.

Oh, I tried playing at the whole love-sick, stupid girl who would do anything to win the guy of her dreams. Emphasis on stupid. Imagine my surprise when, on one of the worst nights of my life, I find out that the guy I wanted more than anything was with another girl. Nothing I had done over the past few years mattered. He never noticed me, never wanted me. While I cried myself to sleep, he was screwing her. That was it for me. Game over. I know when to admit defeat, and that was a crushing blow that I have no intention of repeating.

No matter who I get assigned as my partner in bio, I have a solid game plan to get through the next quarter. Make sure the guy is so turned off by me that he’ll never have a chance to get turned
on
.

That’s another lesson I learned. Guys are only interested in girls because they’re horny. They don’t want to talk to us, get to know us, spoil us like romance novels would have us naïvely believe. No. They want to fuck us, and that’s all.

The door to the seventh circle of hell looms just down the hall. That classroom will undoubtedly be a source of misery for the first quarter of the year. So consumed with mentally preparing for the bio onslaught, I don’t notice the obnoxious football player approach us.

“Hey Eva, you doing anything later?” He stops directly in front of Jess and me, leaning his elbow against a locker to block our path.

He continues on, not caring if I respond. “No? How about doing me then?”

Laughing loudly, he looks around the hall for others to join in. Some do. Most simply go about their business of getting to class before the bell rings. They must’ve heard that line before too.

He opens his mouth, undoubtedly to spew forth another obnoxious pick-up line, just as two of his teammates stalk up behind him.

“I’ve warned you before, Duncan. I won’t give you another chance. If I catch you bothering her again, you can kiss your season goodbye,” the tallest player growls.

My tormentor turns around to argue, but when he sees who has come to my defense, he changes his mind and walks away quickly with his tail tucked between his legs. No one questions the team captain and starting quarterback, especially when he looks like he’s about to go all Hulk on your ass.

Other than the degrading treatment I’ve been dealing with since last year, nothing annoys me more than pity and male chauvinism. “I don’t
need
your help, so go play white knight to some other damsel in distress.”

He steps up to me, forcing my head to tilt in an effort to maintain eye contact. He’s got at least a foot on me. His voice is soft, his words meant for my ears only. “Until you start standing up for yourself, I’m going to keep defending you.”

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest. “What makes you think I require defense? How do you know all the rumors aren’t true? Maybe I like all the attention.”

He tips his chin down until his warm breath fans across my face. “No, you don’t. And I know the rumors aren’t true because that’s not you.”

Mustering all the courage I possess, I push my finger into his solid chest in a paltry effort to clear my personal space. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

His eyes roam over my face, and he rolls his lips in between his teeth. He slowly nods his head, then turns to walk away without another word.

His buddy just shakes his head, laughs, and follows his master down the hallway as a good little sidekick should.

Jess turns to me, her eye brows climbing into her brown, neatly trimmed bangs. “I know you’re not into the whole chivalry thing on account of being a feminist and all, but was that really necessary? He’s so freaking hot, and he’s one of the few people who ever lifts a finger to defend you. He seems like a nice enough guy, and have I mentioned how hot he is? You’re the only girl I know that would send him scurrying away. Unless, you know, you were trying to get subtly closer to him. Because if you were, I’m so proud of you!”

I try to catch my breath after that little encounter before I speak. It seems this year could be a game changer in more ways than one, and that’s got me on edge worse than the impending doom of bio. “Oh, grow up. He just pissed me off. I’m not some insipid waif who can’t fight my own battles. Besides, haven’t you ever wondered why he’s one of the few people to defend me? It’s obvious he’s a horny, disgusting jock like the rest of them. He only wants to edge out the competition. He was trying to step up his game just now. You know, get on my good side, so I’ll spread my legs for him.”