But I knew he’d be here. I just hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess. I was a freshman, and he was a senior, on his way to college in a matter of months. My father wanted me to wait until he was gone—start here my sophomore year—but I wanted to start now. My classmates would be transferring from their middle schools, just like I was transferring, so we’d be on an even keel. In that respect anyway. I wanted all four years with my graduating class.
I’d just avoid him and his circle, but he probably didn’t care to trouble himself with me anyway. I couldn’t imagine how he’d forget, because I never would, but it was possible. Given the time that had passed, maybe I was just a faint memory to him.
“Well…,” Rika began after I didn’t say anything else. “It might be nice to live in my good memories forever.”
I nodded, letting the misconception go. I wish I could remember any other trees but those trees.
We stopped at her locker, and I heard the hollow clunk as she dumped her bag of books into it before taking my bag, as well. Not that I had much in there. Some headphones, a digital recorder the school made me buy to record lectures even though I have an app on my phone for that, my wallet, and of course, my cell.
All of my text books and reading material were downloaded on Audible and on my phone, and I’d left my MacBook in my own locker before Biology, since I’d been told I wouldn’t need it for that class. The text-to-speech feature, where I could type out homework and hear it read back to me to make sure I’d typed correctly, had always been useful, but working in groups and having my earbuds in during class was going to be an obstacle I hadn’t thought of. The learning curve coming here would be steep.
“We’ll pick your stuff up after lunch,” Rika told me.
My locker was at the other end of the hall, and the cafeteria was right here. Something about the way she just took my bag into her space, and reaffirmed that we’d be together this afternoon, too, kind of comforted me. Like I had a place.
Lunch. I let out a breath. It was the part I was dreading the most. Even though the entire morning so far was a running contest for “most awkward.”
The whispers in Algebra.
The awkward silence in French.
The laughter in the science lab when the class president introduced herself and offered to be of any help she could in a really loud voice like I was deaf instead of blind.
The nervous verbal exchange with the P.E. teacher who’d forgotten to accommodate for me in her basketball lesson plan, so she ended up putting me on the treadmill for thirty minutes all by myself.
It was to be expected, I guess. I was the only visually impaired student, and I was the mayor’s daughter. People were curious, while others were just unaware or flustered as to how to interact with me. I supposed the learning curve applied to us all.
“Whoo-hoo!” Loud shouts descended down the hall, and I turned toward the noise, hearing a door swing open and closed a few times as it banged the wall.
Students jostled on both sides of me, squeezing between me and Rika and forcing us farther apart as they tried to get to wherever they were going.
Finally, she took my hand, leading me away. She hadn’t taken my hand all morning, and my mother had made her aware that I didn’t really like that. I preferred to hold on to them, not the other way around.
Plus, it made me feel like a kid.
“Ow, ow, ow!” someone howled, and I jerked my head toward the noise, wondering what was going on. It was lot noisier at this school.
My thumb brushed the cuff of Rika’s shirt as she held my hand in her slender one, and I continued my slow steps through the crowd.
Hadn’t she been wearing a short-sleeved shirt, like a Polo shirt? With a sweater vest, I thought? I felt them both as I’d been holding her arm all morning.
I narrowed my eyes.
And just then, I heard my name.
“Winter!” Rika’s voice called.
And it wasn’t coming from the person holding my hand, either.
I halted.
“Winter!” she shouted again. “Put your hand up, so I can see you!”
I yanked my hand out of the grasp of whoever had me and was just about to raise it, so Rika could find me, but the person grabbed me, I heard a door creak open, and I was shoved, stumbling into a completely different room with a tiled floor under my boots, humid air, and a strange smell, like a mixture of sweat, sporting equipment, and perfume.
Or…a body spray.
I shot my hands out in front of me, breathing hard and noticing the noise around me had changed, too. The distant shouts and chatter from down the hallway were gone, no doors opening and closing, and…no female voices.
“I think you’re in the wrong place, honey,” some guy said, chuckling.
“Whoo-hoo,” another boy cooed as he walked by me, and I heard some whistles go off around the room.
Oh, shit.
My stomach sank.
Who the hell had grabbed me out there? Had Rika seen where I’d gone? Oh, my God. I whipped around, feeling for the door and finding it just a few feet away. But when I pushed on it, it wouldn’t budge. Laughter spilled in from the other side, and tears sprang to my eyes as I pounded on the door. It gave way just an inch, I thought, more giggles filtered in from the outside, and then their weight was against it again, keeping me in.
Goddammit. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn’t in the locker room. I closed my eyes, praying. Please tell me I’m not in the locker room.
“Need a shower?” a male voice said behind me.
“I think she needs a cold shower, man!” another guy called from farther away.
Laughter echoed around the room, the noise level stinging my ears as more people turned their attention on me. I turned around, holding my hands up just in front of me a little, but blinking away the tears and straightening my shoulders.
The less I reacted, the less they’d react. There had to be a coach in here or a teacher or something.
Stupid me. I knew the teasing or pranking or even bullying was a possibility of someone in my shoes, but I arrogantly thought my status protected me. Or my father’s status, anyway.
But whoever pushed me in here thought of something I didn’t. If I couldn’t see them do it, there was no one to punish.
“Damn,” someone said, and I turned my head toward his voice.
“Is that…?” Another voice trailed off. Younger, like he was my age, maybe.
“Yeah, it’s the mayor’s daughter,” a raspy voice added. “The blind one.”
“Oh, shit. I heard she was coming.”
“She’s cute.”
Heat covered my face, but I kept my jaw locked to keep the panic from rising. I spun around again and tried the door.
I pushed my body into it, it gave way, but it was pushed closed again by the same weight. More cackling from the other side.
I shook my head. I was going to kill them. Whoever they were, I was going to kill them. I wanted to scream—to demand they open the damn door and let me out—but it would just entertain the boys behind me even more.
“It’s okay, babe. You can stay,” one of the same voices told me. “Not like you can see our shit anyway, right?”
“Shower’s all yours, babe.” A towel hit my body, and I caught it on reflex. “Unless you don’t want it all to yourself.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, and I swallowed a couple times to wet my throat. “Hello?” I called, hoping to alert a teacher that a girl was in the room so I could get some help. “Hello?”
“Hello!” a voice called, mimicking me.
And another. “Hello!”
“Hello!”
“Hello!”
Male voices around the room laughed and joked, and I gritted my teeth together, aggravated. I didn’t know why I was surprised. The guys in this town…
“What the hell’s going on?” someone asked.
“Winter Ashby wandered in, man.”
I backed up to the door, my hands at the ready as it sounded like more guys came in from the showers or the gym, I wasn’t sure.
But before I hit the hard doors, I hit something else. I stopped, feeling a body behind me.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Simon.”
I jerked, but there was suddenly a body to my left and in my ear. “I’m Brace.”
And then another one in front of me. “I’m Miles,” he said, and I sucked in a breath and held out my hands.
I tried to slip in any direction I could, but they were everywhere.
“Guys, come on, leave her alone. Get her out of here!” someone barked from farther away.