Late. Late. Late. Shit, I'm late.

It takes skill to run past the front offices and not be seen by my mother, whose desk sits front and center of those offices with a door open and ready to catch one of her two daughters strolling through on the brink of the first bell. I've come to master this skill. I wait for Mike Sandiski to enter first, knowing he's already on her shit list for forging his dad's signature on a day release. My mother is not only the secretary—official eyes and ears of Luxberg High—but also a Luxberg-lifer. That means everyone in town loves Vicky Brooks, and she knows everyone—including Mike's father who did not sign his name on a release last week. As soon as her voice calls out for my classmate, her finger summoning him to her office, I make my move and zip towards Senior Hall.

I dodge numerous fellow students in my attempt to get to my locker. Many of them are lost in discussions of their weekend or last Friday's football game against the Coyotes—a school rival. They pay no attention to me as I push between them, which is how I prefer it. I could care less about the football game and more about cursing whoever put the senior lockers in the back of this building. Apparently, they feel that seniors should know better than to arrive late to class every day. Not me—I tend to not learn from my mistakes.

"Shit." I huff, seeing Tyler Porter in his green and gold letterman jacket, blocking me from my things. I don't learn from my mistakes, other than the one leaning himself against my locker.

"You're late again." He laughs, giving the football in his hands a toss into the air. It spins just until it's above his messy, black hair before falling back into his large hands.

Ignoring him, I toss my red JanSport backpack to his feet and begin spinning my memorized combination into the padlock that he's just barely attempting to block. When he realizes that his stance is doing him no good, he moves one step to the left and instead leans himself into Morgan's locker. Knowing my best friend well, she got here nice and early to save our spots in Biology.

"Great game, Ty!" a girl behind me chirps, boosting Tyler's ego and the size of his grin.

"Thanks, Lilly."

I turn just in time to see Lilly and two of her friends eying their star quarterback and baseball captain like he's made of pure gold. My eyes roll hard when their little group realizes he's waiting on me. Smiles fall and form a look of confusion. They are so right to question him and his intentions right now. The Tyler Porter is waiting on Gabby Brooks—the invisible girl.

I wish I was invisible right now.

"Shouldn't that be open by now?" His eyebrow lifts. He points to the padlock in my hand that I've been mindlessly spinning since arriving at his side.

The heat in my face rises. With an annoyed sigh, I start the combination over.

"Seven, thirteen, twenty..." He chuckles.

There's the annoying prick I'm used to.

"Go fuck yourself," I mutter, finally opening the padlock and freeing it from the metal handle of my locker.

Tyler smiles smugly—a trait much more adorable on his older brother, Kane. "No need. I have you for that. Remember?"

I'm not about to rehash homecoming weekend and what I remember and don't. Especially not right here in the middle of senior hall. Besides, he has no filter and loves reminding me daily, right here, in this very spot. It's best to just ignore him, but today he seems unusually close with his hovering.

"May I help you with something?" I ask, unwilling to look in his direction. I toss my Social Studies book into the bottom of the locker and pull my Biology book free.

"Yes."

"Great. What is it?"

"My parents aren't home tonight."

I laugh. His parents are never home, and he's acting as if this is some new feat we can overcome. I mean, if that's all it took to get me over there, I would never leave. His parents are best friends with my own. It's hard not to know that his dad is constantly shuttling his mom around to doctor appointments for her cancer diagnosis. In fact, I don't remember the last time Kane and Tyler's parents were at their house when I was.

"We should hang out, Gabs."

I cringe. Only my family calls me Gabs, except for Kane. When it comes from Tyler's mouth, it makes me sick. Maybe we were once close, but we aren't anymore. Football happened. Football always happens. Tyler made quarterback and then left his friends in the dust for popularity. To each his own. I have no desire to be the focus of this school and town. And I definitely do not want to be the focus of Tyler right now.

"No," I slam the metal door shut. "Same as yesterday. Same as tomorrow. No."

Before I can pick up my backpack from the floor, Tyler grabs it and swings it over his own shoulder to carry. Maybe some girls find this cute, but I don't. I made a mistake. A big, drunken mistake. No one other than the two of us knows that we had sex on homecoming weekend. Had he not told me, I probably wouldn't even know. Apparently, schnapps and I are not a good combination. It dulls the senses and makes me do stupid things, like losing my virginity to someone who was once like a brother and who I barely speak to anymore. Practically the only thing I do remember is the party being busted and me being hauled away in my dad's patrol car while throwing up red cherry schnapps out the passenger window. I lost my taste for cherries and he gained the taste for them.

When his hand moves to the small of my back to usher me to walk with him to our first class, I've had enough.

"Was the rejection not clear?" Disgusted, I wiggle my way out of his hold. I hold out my hand for my bag.

"No. It wasn't. We had fun together. What's wrong with wanting a repeat?"

"Can't remember. I think it was too small, right?" I point to his crotch.

"Hilarious." He rolls his eyes and finally forks over my bag. "How about a date?"

I look at his face for any hint of sarcasm, but there is none there. The boy is as serious as a heart attack right now. He wants to date me? Since when? He wants sex again and nothing more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have started off with it.

Why am I even questioning this? I have no desire to date him. None.

"Oh, buddy. You don't take no well, do you?" an unknown female voice comes from behind me. "This girl clearly has no interest in dating you. Besides, she's hanging out with me tonight. Right, Gabby?"

I look beside me to a girl I have never seen in my life, which is odd because this is a very small school and town. Her stunning, emerald eyes are open wide and she's nodding—basically telling me to agree with her. My head automatically begins to nod in unison with hers, agreeing to anything to get me out of this conversation with Tyler.

"Yep, I'm hanging out with her tonight." I motion to the stranger with my thumb.

Tyler's eyes become fixated on the new blonde beside me (mostly her impressive chest size). Awkwardly enough, I find myself also staring at her chest, but not for the same reason as him. She has on a hot pink tank-top that says Foo Fighters across the front. I love Dave Grohl, and even though I have no clue who this person is, I've decided we need to be friends.

"Okay, pal. Eyes up here." She motions from her boobs back to her face, which has a smirk that already says she's over Tyler's gawking. "You were rejected. Walk away."

He scrunches his nose at her and looks back to me. I almost want to laugh in his face at how stricken he is by this girl's audacity to talk to him like this. Around here, the Porters are every girl's dream, and he has now been rejected twice before first period.

"I'll call you later, Gabby."

"Great," I sarcastically murmur.

Tyler begins his walk to first period but keeps peering over his shoulder at the blonde that just shut him down for me. For as much as I hated him walking up to me in the first place, his current mood made it worth it. The kid is sulking, and internally, I am cheering.

I turn back to my new comrade with a big smile. She just saved my morning. "Thank you!"

"No problem. He didn't look like he was giving up anytime soon. Some guys just can't take no for an answer," she smiles back and holds her hand out. "I'm Courtney Parker. Your mom actually sent me towards you. I just moved in across the street."

"Oh! Hey!" I shake her hand. "I'm Gabby Brooks, which you obviously already know."

The bell rings out and I realize that I am even more late than before. Since my mother is the one who tracks attendance for the entire school, I can't be late again. Not only do I have the luxury of being in trouble with teachers giving me detention, but then I also get grounded once I'm home. My mother working here is a blessing and a curse rolled into one.

"Courtney, I'm about to abuse our new friendship. We are both late for class and you're going to be my excuse." I offer her a sincere shrug, hoping she doesn't mind. "I'm sorry in advance."

"I'm good with it." She shrugs and joins me on my right to proceed down the hall. "I haven't had time to find the room anyways. We'll say I was lost."

I'm not sure anyone would buy that excuse in this building, but it's one that I have never used before and I'm willing to try out. Getting lost here would be next to impossible. Small is an understatement when describing Luxberg High. The High only refers to half of the school—grades seven through twelve. Kindergarten through sixth are housed on the other half of the building. With the combination of other local towns being bussed in, I am one of only thirty students in the senior class—thirty-one if you include my new neighbor. For this reason, we all share the same schedule with the exception of a few specialty courses that break us up at the end of the day, such as students in AP courses.

When we enter the third room on the left side of the hallway, the one whose door is covered in drawings of cells, we are met with thirty pairs of eyes, including a pair at the front of the room that roll at me every morning. We seem to have interrupted the beginning of class, and this is absolutely nothing new for me. I shamefully reach for Courtney's arm and drag her to my less than enthused teacher.

"Do you own a watch, Gabrielle?" Mrs. Scott glares at me. "Or any sort of clock? A phone, perhaps?"

"I apologize." I offer. "I would have made the bell today, but I saw this poor girl wandering the school without a map. She almost walked into wood shop, but I snagged her just in time. She's new."

"I'm aware that Miss Parker is new." The teacher looks to the girl at my side, clearly not liking her choice in attire. Skimpy clothing with rock bands on it aren't exactly a norm around here. It's clear that Courtney is from out of town. "I do get the heads up on this sort of thing. Welcome, Courtney," she greets her. "You can be Gabby's lab partner today. Take your seats, please."

It worked! My new neighbor and I share a knowing smile that neither of us would be marked tardy and find an open table directly behind Morgan and Cole. I knew my besties would look out for me and save me a good seat. And the best part? Our table is on the opposite end of the room from one Tyler Porter. Perfect!

"How much trouble did you get yourself into last night?" Morgan almost completely turns her chair to give me her full attention before we've barely planted our butts in our seats. "For once, your dad didn't rat me out to my mom. He must have had a busy night after busting us."

"Yeah. Someone graffitied the back of the post office," I roll my eyes at the most boring Luxberg news we've had in weeks. I thought perhaps I was out of the woods when he didn't return until almost midnight, but no such luck. "I'm grounded from you and Cole for two weeks. You guys are horrible role-models."

Cole's shoulders quake with his laughter. "Right, Gabby. We must be the problem. Luxberg criminals always in trouble with the law."

The three of us laugh, knowing this is nothing new. We basically take turns being grounded from each other. It never sticks. It will take a few days, but I'll play nice, and the parents will forget why they grounded me. It's the circle of high school life. Other than the weekend of homecoming, I've never done anything that they have truly deemed truly unacceptable behavior. They were young once too, and I'm perfectly aware of their limits when it comes to breaking any rules.

Courtney, already apprehensive and completely out of the loop on this conversation, shifts uncomfortably. "What did you do to get in trouble with the law?"

I do suppose out of context, our conversation may have sounded a bit more troublesome than it was.

"Drinking." I let out a huff as I toss my textbook onto the table. "My dad is the sheriff. We are always busted."

"Ohhh." Courtney giggles and releases a relieved breath. "Good to know. Guess I'm never drinking with you guys."

There's an eerie silence in front of me, one not usually there. The air is thick as Morgan stares up the new girl, eyeing the best friend competition with one hell of a glare. I love my best friend, but she is quite territorial. Last night's conversation of a plus-one to our group just set sail and Morgan is not on board. Not the only one to notice, Cole leaves the conversation to pay attention to Biology while Courtney's green eyes grow wider.

Way to make her feel welcome, Morgs.

"Is she about to murder me?" She points to the brunette in front of us.

"No. Morgan wants to continue her best friend status, and if she doesn't stop gawking, I'm going to tell my buddy Cole here something she doesn't want him to know."

Morgan's eyes bulge before she quickly swivels back around. Even from here, I can still see her cheeks have turned pink. She must not think that Courtney is worth admitting that she has a serious secret crush on our best friend. Cole, likely knowing exactly what I was referring to, looks to Morgan and stifles his laugh by biting his lower lip.

I swear, that boy knows Morgan likes him.

* * *

The school day goes slow. They always go slow, especially being only a few months shy of graduation. By lunch, Courtney appears to be well adjusted to our little group. Her humor is very similar to ours, and we spent most of our Biology and Social Studies classes doing more laughing than learning. Even Morgan started to come around by the time we entered the cafeteria. Morgan finally found a girl to discuss clothes and makeup with. I'm not even mad that they appear to be clicking over those things that I have little interest in, because I have other things in common with her too—the Foo Fighters aren't the only band we have a shared love for.

"They had chocolate pudding today?" Cole practically salivates as he stares at Morgan's tray, a little too excitedly.

"Clearly, I got one." She glances down at the little Jell-O cup and back to him. "So, yes..."

Cole reaches for the treat, but Morgan quickly grabs his wrist, tugging it back towards herself so hard that Cole's face is a mere few inches away from her own. Piquing not only my interest but also Courtney's, we both stop mid-opening of our beverages to give their little show our undivided attention.

Is she about to kiss him? Here? I swiftly glance around the cafeteria to see who else is watching before turning back to my best friend. Morgan's face is daring Cole to make another move, and I can't quite decide if she's being playful or about to smack him with his own hand.

"Miller, if you touch my pudding, I will backhand you so hard you will forget what chocolate tastes like," she scolds him in a breathy tone.

He doesn't even fight her white-knuckled grasp. A smirk appears on his face as he stares at the girl in front of him. "I love it when you talk dirty, Morgan."

Her face flashes to scarlet for the second time today. "Get your own, Cole!" she drops his wrist as if it were burning her hand.

"Would anyone else like a pudding cup? No? Okay, more for me." Cole offers and answers his own question before anyone could even say yes. He chuckles and stands from the table, taking Morgan's advice as I exhale from their little show.

Courtney immediately catches on to Morgan's lovesick gaze towards Cole, whose arms are already cradling a handful of Jell-O cups at the cashier counter. Morgan, moving on to damage control, pats her cheeks and tries to cool herself down. It's no use though. When one of Cole's Jell-O cups hits the ground, Morgan's head cocks at the very same time our friend bends over to pick up his treat—the admiration is clear in her facial features.

"Oh, Morgan, honey," Courtney giggles and covers her smile, "you've got it so bad."

"I want him!" Morgan turns a brighter shade of red, throwing her head down to the table, atop her arms, with a massive huff. "So bad. He pays attention to me, and it makes me stupid."

"Aw, you should tell him!" Courtney pats Morgan's arm to console her. "He was flirting!"

Courtney's attempt to aid Morgan with her love life is futile. However, that was the first time I've heard Morgan admit that she likes when Cole pays attention to her. He's our friend—why would he not pay attention to her? Shouldn't it be about more than that? Tyler pays attention to me, and I can't push him away fast enough. There should be chemistry, which I believe Morgan and Cole might have—do have. Maybe I'm just becoming jealous and overthinking it now. Maybe I've been reading too many romance novels.

"It's no use. She won't tell him." My head shakes. "She has been trying for eight years. The day it finally happens, I think I will be a little sad knowing I can't tease her about it anymore."

"I hate you, Gabby." Morgan groans without looking up. Her head still lies on the table, hiding her cherry-kissed face, that I know for a fact is smiling.

"Love you too, Morgs." I giggle.

Morgan lifts her head only to grab two pieces of my popcorn and take aim at my face with them as she laughs. "Shut up and eat your damn popcorn." Her head drops once more.

"Stop wasting it and I will!" I sigh at the loss of the two lone puffed kernels on the floor of the cafeteria.

I take a lot of shit for my popcorn addiction—a treat that has become somewhat of an obsession for me. Some would call it unhealthy, but I just call it a typical Iowa-girl problem. I mean, it's technically a vegetable smothered in butter and salt. It is clearly an acceptable meal for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Today it is my lunch.

"What's her problem now?" Cole takes back his spot beside Morgan with five chocolate pudding cups. Yep, five. Does he offer to share? No.

"She just loves chocolate pudding and all the feels that come with it." I shrug.

Her black flats connect with my knee under the table, forcing me to grimace with the pain that radiates through my leg. I deserved that, but still I'm laughing as I rub my kneecap. That really hurt.

"Ouch!" I laugh and scowl at the same time. "It's not my fault you love..."

"Chocolate pudding!" Her head flies up as she cuts me off with her shouting. "I love chocolate pudding!"