"So a Starbucks study date tomorrow then?" I suggested, pulling out my planner.

"Definitely," Caroline agreed, with a nod.

"This test is going to kick my butt," I admitted, jotting it down in my planner before putting it away.

"You're Valedictorian," she reminded me. "Tests don't kick your butt, it's the other way around."

"Except when you've been spending all your free time with your recovering boyfriend," I said, with a sigh. "And not studying for AP Chem."

"I miss Bryce," she said, jutting out her bottom lip. "He's such a goofball. When's he coming back?"

"He has his first checkup next week sometime," I said, checking my phone. "They'll probably give him a rough timeline then."

The bell rang and I gathered up my stuff, heading to my locker.

And then I felt my arm being yanked, and I was shoved into an empty classroom.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" I demanded to Clayton, as he flipped on the lights.

"I need to talk to you."

"And you can't just approach me in the hallway and tell me that like a normal person?"

"Shut up and listen, this is important."

"You can't just talk to people like that-"

"There's a new kid," he deadpanned, interrupting me.

"And that affects me why?"

"He's a sophomore."

"Still not understanding why I care."

"He transferred from that prep school across town," Clayton continued. "Steven Anderson."

His name sounded familiar.

"Star pitcher for the Summerville Tigers."

"Shit," I muttered.

Now I definitely knew who he was.

Bryce pitched for the Highlander Eagles travel team, and the Summerville Tigers were their biggest rivals.

"We have a problem," Clayton stated.

"Yeah we do."

~*~

"Alright," Mrs. Jacobs announced. "Today we will be continuing our piece on Love and Peace."

I hate Art class, but everyone is required to take one Fine Arts elective, and it was either this or Music Appreciation.

And I just cannot sit through a class with a bunch of baseball jocks while they pretend to learn something about music.

So I decided to go for the Art credit, and I don't necessarily regret it, but I don't love it either. I just don't have an artistic bone in my body.

I went to the back and retrieved my piece from last class, which we were to continue working on.

"Yours looks nice," Kylie commented, as I retook my seat.

I laughed as I took the blue watercolor from her. "You're full of it."

"It's probably the best piece you've done in here."

"I should be insulted right now."

The door opened at the front of the class, and a boy came in, carrying a schedule.

I really hope this isn't who I think it is.

"May I help you?" Mrs. Jacobs asked the boy.

"I'm new here," he informed her. "And I'm supposed to be in this class."

She checked his schedule, and then pulled out her seating chart to find a place to put him.

"I don't have a seat for you right now," she mused, her eyes searching the classroom. "So I'll have one brought in. But for now you can just take the seat next to Sophie. Sophie, raise your hand."

He was taking Bryce's seat.

I raised my hand, and the new kid who I was assumed was Steven made his way up the stairs and took a seat at the long desk next to me.

"Steven," he introduced, with a smile.

"Hello," I greeted, politely.

Clayton's eyes immediately snapped over to Steven.

"You're Steven?" Clayton asked.

Steven looked over at Clayton in surprise. "Uh, yeah. And you are?"

"Clayton Simmons," he introduced. "Co-captain of the baseball team."

"What position?" Steven asked.

"Shortstop."

"Well you clearly already know me," Steven said, giving Clayton a onceover. "But for the record, I'm Steven. Pitcher."

Kylie raised her eyebrows at me, and I gave her a slight nod.

He was here to take Bryce's spot.

"Sophie, right?" Steven asked me, turning his attention away from Clayton.

Clayton began to chuckle as he painted his artwork.

"Yeah."

"I was starting pitcher at Greenesville," he informed me, as though I was supposed to be impressed or something.

"Then why'd you leave?"

"Bigger and better opportunities."

He meant to come and pitch here, which would definitely get you more notoriety than Greenesville.

"We've already got a pretty good pitcher," I pointed out.

"Sam Powell?" Steven asked, with a laugh. "As if."

"I meant Bryce Harrison."

"From what I've heard, Bryce Harrison is out for the season."

"Check your facts," Clayton muttered.

"So you're into baseball then?" Steven asked me, ignoring Clayton.

When your boyfriend is starting pitcher, it's hard not to be.

"I guess you could say that."

Kylie chuckled next to me, and I shot her a smirk.

"So I can expect you to come and see me play?"

"You're pretty assuming there," I pointed out, as I finishing painting my flower blue.

"I always start," he informed me.

"And no," I declined, reaching over for the gray pencil. "I have no interest in watching you play baseball."

"What can I do to change your mind?" Steven asked, with a smile.

I pretended to think about it for a second, twirling the pencil around in my hand. "Here's an idea."

He nodded, waiting for me to speak again.

"Maybe you could try talking my boyfriend into coming too. We could make it a date."

Kylie chuckled again, and I smirked at Steven before refocusing on my art piece.

~*~

"Okay," Caroline stated, tapping her pencil on the table. "So a strong acid is a conjugate base with negligible base."

"Yep," I said, with a nod. "And a weak acid?"

"Conjugate base with weak strength?"

I reached across the table to high-five her. "Yes!"

"How do you write the conjugate acid?" I asked.

"You add H+," she stated.

"Yes! And how do you write the conjugate base."

"You subtract the H+."

"I think you've got the hang of it," I said, with a smile.

"I want you to be my tutor forever."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I didn't know the information any better than you did."

"You have like a photographic memory."

I shook my head again. "I just have little tricks that help me remember things."

"I love you Sophie."

"Thank you."

"Will you review with me tomorrow morning?"

I nodded. "Meet me in Mr. Munn's room, that way we don't get distracted by everything else."

We packed up our stuff and said our goodbyes, and I headed over to Bryce's place to checkup on him.

Kayla let me in, and Clayton and Bryce were playing Call of Duty in the living room.

Clayton gave me a look as I walked in that told me things were definitely not okay.

"Hey," I said, taking a seat next to Bryce.

"Hey."

"How was your day?" I asked, after a few moments of silence.

"Basically what you're really asking is how therapy went?"

"No, what I'm really asking is how your day was. But if you want to talk about speech therapy, that's fine too."

Clayton paused the game.

Bryce raised his eyebrows at him.

"Gotta pee," Clayton explained, before leaving the room.

"I don't," Bryce declined, turning to face me.

"Well something's clearly bothering you."

"It's just been a long day."

"Well I'm always open-eared."

"What part of I don't want to talk about it is lost in translation?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Why don't you try cutting back on the attitude?"

"Why don't you try being a little more understanding?"

"Understanding of what? You won't tell me what's going on."

Clayton came back into the room, but paused when he saw how heated Bryce was.

And I really wasn't sure why. This wasn't like Bryce at all.

"Because I don't want to talk about it," Bryce repeated.

"And I said that I'm always open-eared, meaning I'm here when you want to. There's no need for the anger and hostility."

"You didn't have my day," Bryce muttered.

"I know that whatever happened must've been hard-"

"You have no idea," he interrupted. "Don't pretend like you know what I go through."

I stood up, brushing off my shorts. "You know what? I think I'm just going to come back later."

"That's probably for the best," Bryce agreed.

"Dude," Clayton interrupted, raising his eyebrows at Bryce. "The hell is your problem?"

Bryce didn't answer for a moment, his jaw clenched.

"It's just therapy is all," Bryce relented.

I kneeled back down next to him. "I know that progress seems slow, but it will come with time."

"I'm not going back," he stated.

I exchanged glances with Clayton, who looked just as shocked as I was.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm not going back to therapy," he repeated.

"What the hell do you mean?" Clayton asked.

Bryce just shrugged.

"What are you going to do, avoid any word that starts with S for the rest of your life?" Clayton asked him.

"I've been doing it pretty well."

Clayton rolled his eyes.

"Bryce, I think you need to sleep on this," I said, biting my bottom lip.

"I've made my decision."

"Did you talk to your mom about it?"

"I don't need to."

Right.

"What kind of pitcher is Steven?" Clayton asked Bryce.

"What?" Bryce asked him.

"Is Steven a Southpaw or regular pitcher?"

"Left-handed."

"That wasn't the question."

"But that's the answer."

"Would you like spaghetti or seafood for dinner?" Clayton asked.

"The first option."

Clayton nodded. "What's your girlfriend's name?"

The entire room fell silent.

Bryce's eyes flickered over to mine, and then back to Clayton's.

"I guess I'll have to fix that then," Bryce said, standing up.

"See?" Clayton said, standing up. "I know therapy seems impossible now-"

"I meant get a new girlfriend," Bryce said, interrupting him.

I took a step back, feeling like I'd just taken a blow to the chest.

"Bryce," Clayton started.

But I didn't wait around to hear the rest.

I grabbed my purse and left, letting the door slam behind me.

Anger was pulsing through my veins as I ripped open my car door, throwing my purse down and slamming my car door behind me.

How dare he say that about me, as if I was just some piece of trash to be thrown away? As if I hadn't given him the past two, almost three years of my life.

As if we weren't supposed to be a team.

My hands gripped the steering wheel, my jaw trembling.

And then a single tear fell down my cheek.

And that opened the dam.

I began to cry, my heart breaking into pieces as I sat in Bryce's driveway.

But he never came outside.

So what did you guys think about the new guy, Steven? What were you expecting him to be like? Do you think he'll take Bryce's spot? What about Bryce's attitude post-therapy? Are you Team Bryce or Team Sophie after the fight?

If you guys want to make any banners/covers for this story, please do! I love receiving them :D You can email them to me at [email protected], just be sure to remember to include your Wattpad username so I know who to give credit to.

Teaser: Bryce & Sophie aren't exactly on the best of terms at the moment. Are they going to attempt to fix things? Or will this be the end of our favorite couple?