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Chapter 4: Finding My Way

Author: Leslie Fear

After finding a seat in the back of the class, I can finally get a deep breath. I know the hardest part about being the new girl is the being new part, but my stomach still has some catching up to do. It's nothing new; I pretty much stay in a perpetual state of uneasiness thanks to the unpredictable world I live in. The first few weeks are always the worst though.

I manage to clear my head long enough to take a few notes in between the occasional stare from a guy next to me and again from a girl on my left. I swear it'd be easier if I just wore a freaking nametag saying, "I'm new, not an alien."

When the bell rings I bolt out of the room as quickly as I can. My only focus is to find my next class before I have to ask for help. I don't want favors and I don't want charity because nothing in my world is free. Everything is conditional. I thought by now I'd be used to the way we live but what I really do is fake it. Just like my mom. Most of the time I feel like I'm on autopilot, trudging through life with no direction, only hers.

Even so, this place is still better than being home. Even if that's fake, too.

The crowded hallway is making it impossible to see the room numbers and my stomach is back to its prickly self. Hoping to give it a minute or two to calm, I decide to find a restroom and spot my salvation just down the hall. Wedging my way through the crowds, I reach for the handle and pull, realizing within seconds that I just opened the men's door. I'm immediately pushed back, losing my balance and landing flat on my ass in the middle of the hallway. Everything feels like it happened in super slow motion until I notice a small gathering of students starting to surround me. I'm pretty sure not one of them is here to help. Laughter confirms it.

Shit.

"Whoa, you okay?" The tall guy who burst through the door has a surprised look on his face and immediately begins picking up the pencils, pens, and notebook paper scattered all over the floor. I look around, still a little dazed, and begin frantically stuffing everything I see in my backpack. I reach for the last pencil, but he grabs it before I can get to it then stands, reaching his hand out to me. I look up, leaping to my feet without taking it because on top of being completely humiliated, I'm trying my best to act unaffected by the sharp pain in my tailbone.

His face changes and for a moment he looks distracted. I turn away, pretending to read my schedule as he walks past me. He waves his hands, shooing away the now larger group of snickering onlookers. "Okay, everyone, show's over."

Everyone scrambles like they've been caught fighting in the hallways and I'm secretly grateful, pretending to read my schedule while trying to act oblivious. He turns around, walking straight for me, and I'm able to get a better look at him in my periphery. The confidence in his stride is impressive and I assume right then he must be some kind of leader. Maybe the student council president or the captain of the baseball team. He pauses next to me in his tight Levi's and un-tucked light blue Polo and cocks his head, as if to get a better look at my schedule.

"You sure you're okay?"

I glance up at him. "Yes, I'm fine," I lie, not only embarrassed as hell; I also have no clue where my next class is.

"Do you need help?" he asks as I turn away.

"I said I'm fine," I shoot over my shoulder, walking down the hallway without looking back.

He laughs and I stop immediately and turn around. His smile gets bigger when our eyes meet and I watch his lips reveal perfectly straight white teeth. "I saw your schedule. Chemistry is this way." Jerking his head to the right, he turns and starts walking, then glances back to see if I'm following-which I am.

"I could have found it on my own," I say a little abruptly, probably sending out a royal bitch vibe.

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do for knocking you down." His smile is back and I can tell he's amused by my little tantrum. "You can even sit next to me. I promise not to abuse you again."

He winks and I roll my eyes, pushing back the grin I think he already saw. I'm immediately pissed at myself because there's something about him I like. And the last thing I want is some random dude thinking I need help.

"Nope, I'm good. I'm pretty sure I can at least find a seat."

"I'm Brad Davis, by the way." He reaches out his hand and I take it because what else am I supposed to do?

"Um, Candice-Candice Crawford."

His warm hand feels amazing around my cool fingers, griping tightly but not too tight. He doesn't let go right away and my eyes go straight to his. He's still smiling but this time it's genuine, without the cockiness from before. Blood rushes to my face and I'm sure it's turned six shades of red. I'm not used to sincerity, not even a little bit. I drop his hand and step past him.

I learned my lesson a long time ago to keep a low profile. I can't allow anyone to get too close or find out my life is a complete disaster. I just want to graduate as soon as humanly possible. I'm not going to fall for the first guy who's nice to me. Even if he is totally my type. Tall, good-looking, and confident.

Shit.

I try to hide the deep breath I just took as I quickly scan the room for a seat. I probably shouldn't be surprised that the only one left is next to him.

How convenient.

Hearing him chuckle under his breath, I walk over and take the empty chair, half wondering if he planned it all along. I shake my head, finally cracking another smile I don't want to show. I'm mad at myself all over again for encouraging him.

A few seconds later, a man in a blue corduroy jacket sporting gray elbow patches walks through the door. I watch him stack papers, perfectly organizing them in a row, at his desk at the front of the room. Several minutes go by and he still hasn't spoken a word. I start to panic a little, thinking he's some kind of sadist about to hit us with a sneaky pop quiz on the first day of school. But, thankfully, he finally pulls out a spiral notebook and begins roll call.

Something catches the corner of my eye and I turn to see Brad leaning toward me.

"Hey," he says, whispering like it's a secret.

"Yeah?" I turn my head and watch his lips curl up then he looks down at my mouth.

"Let me know if you need any help finding the ladies' room."

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