Devon

Devon groaned. “Stop worrying about things before they happen.”

He was driving Sam to Eddington and so far she’d spent the whole trip spewing enough worry to shake even his confidence. “I’ve already promised to walk you to your first class. We have the next one together, and then lunch. It’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You look grand. You sound grand. Everything’s going to be grand!”

“Fine!” she huffed.

They drove the last few miles in silence.

When Devon pulled into the lot at Eddington, he headed straight to his designated spot. All the students who drove on campus had special permits and got their own personal parking spots. The athletes always decorated theirs with their jersey numbers and such. Devon hadn’t had time to paint over his spot. He wondered bitterly if someone else wore his jersey number now. But before Devon even got to his spot he could tell something was wrong. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be grand.

“What’s that?” Sam asked as they pulled up to his spot.

There were a bunch of students gathered around his parking spot and at first he couldn’t tell what they were pointing at. But when they got closer his mouth fell open. Someone had spray painted all manner of foul words across his spot. His name was crossed out and an effigy wearing his old jersey was sitting in a chair with a noose around its neck.

Devon choked on his anger, the muscles in his jaw bulging as he silently drove past the crowd.

“Was that supposed to be you?” Sam asked, sounding appalled.

“I imagine so,” he grumbled.

“What the hell? I know you quit the team, but this is ridiculous.”

“It’s just a first day prank.”

“What happened to everything will be grand?” she asked.

“It will be, for you.”

“Maybe you should tell the administration about this.”

“Let it go, Sam. It’s just a bunch of blokes blowing off steam.”

“But they hung a mannequin that was supposed to be you. That’s some messed up voodoo shit, Devon!”

“I let them down. I get it. If the shoe were on the other foot I’d have been helping them degrade some other poor bloke’s space.”

She just stared at him open-mouthed while he drove to the back of the lot to find an empty parking space. Devon parked and opened the back hatch so they could grab their books.

“Look,” he said gently putting a hand on Sam to stop her from walking toward the school. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to walk up together.”

“What? Because of that?” she asked gesturing in the direction of his old parking space.

Devon nodded. “I know you’re already worried about starting at a new school. I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Fuck ‘em,” she said taking Devon’s hand and lifting her chin a little higher. “Friend rule number one. Friends always have each other’s backs.”

Devon squeezed her hand and felt his chest open a little further. He laced his fingers with hers and they strode up to Eddington together.

Maybe things were going to be just grand after all.

Sam

Things were not grand.

All during Sam’s first period class she felt like she was in a bad dream. The kind where you’re giving a speech in your underwear and everyone is pointing and laughing. She may not have been in her underwear, but everyone was definitely laughing at her expense.

They were all whispering about her. Saying her name just loud enough for her to overhear. She knew that game. She’d participated in it. But she’d never been on the receiving end. It sucked. She kept hearing words like slut and bitch. And she heard Devon’s name mentioned with hers a lot. Everyone definitely thought they were dating, or at least a packaged deal. There went Devon’s boyfriend theory. Almost boyfriend or not, Sam knew she had a target on her back.

She excused herself to the girls’ lavatory halfway through class and hid in a bathroom stall trying not to cry. She just needed to get it out. God, she hated this. She was every typical teen movie right now. She could see the credits—Samantha Conners as, girl crying in bathroom. Sam dabbed away the few tears that slipped out and texted Megan.

SAM: Today blows.

Megan instantly Facetimed her. “Are you in a bathroom?”

“Yes,” Sam hiccupped. “Keep your voice down.”

“Okay, Moaning Myrtle.”

“Could you just not right now? I’m having a really shitty day.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I’m on the set of Mean Girls! Every person in my first period class has literally been whispering about me and saying I’m a slut. I’m just waiting for someone to say On Wednesdays We Wear Pink. At least then I’ll know I’m stuck in a nightmare. This can’t be my life now, Meg!”

“Is it really that bad?”

“I’m calling you from a bathroom stall!” Sam hissed.

“Okay! Okay! Just calm down. I’m so sorry, Sam. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe if you tell your dad about it he’ll let you come home?”

“Doubtful. He’ll just say something lame like give it time, or hang in there.”

“He does love those motivational posters.”

“Ugh! What am I gonna do, Meg?”

“Just ignore them. If they don’t see how awesome you are, they’re blind. And you’ll be back in Boston in no time. So who cares what they think, right?”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Megan smiled.

“I miss you, Meg.”

“I miss you too! Call me if the natives get restless.”

* * *

By the time Sam made it to lunch she was checking her back for kick me signs. Thank God she had Devon, because she didn’t think she could face the lunchroom alone. It was like walking into the belly of the beast. Sam knew the students weren’t audibly booing her, but it kinda felt like they were as she and Devon walked through the rows of tables. She felt hundreds of eyes swivel, watching them until they found a seat.

“This is not grand,” Sam whispered once they were seated.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Devon replied. “I have a feeling it’s all my fault.”

“Are you sure this is just about you quitting the soccer team? Did you maybe murder someone and forget to mention it?”

Devon smirked. “Sadly, no. I have a feeling this is Sophie’s doing.”

“Why?” Sam asked while tearing her sandwich into tiny pieces for no reason other than that she needed something to do with her hands.

“Sophie made a couple rude comments about you being my girlfriend in first period.”

“And did you correct her?”

“Yes, of course. But I don’t think she believes me.”

Sam sighed and shoved a straw in her can of soda, taking long slurps. “I mean why does she care anyway? You said she broke up with you.”

“I don’t know. But maybe we shouldn’t spend a lot of time together while we’re on campus. Seeing us together will only piss her off and feed the rumors.”

“You heard the rumors too? Everyone definitely thinks were dating!” Sam was still nervously slurping her soda, when Devon gently pulled it from her hands.

“Sam, you’re shaking. I don’t think you need the extra caffeine right now.”

“It has nothing to do with caffeine! You can’t abandon me, Devon! They’ll eat me alive!”

“No one’s going to hurt you, Sam. It’s all just talk. You said your old school was kinda like this, no?”

“Not this bad. And I was never the one being picked on.”

“The first day is always the worst. They’ll find someone new to pick on soon enough. But for now let’s lay low.”

* * *

Sam had calculus after lunch. And of course, Sophie and Tess were in her class. Sam already hated math. Why not make the nightmare complete and throw in a few of Satan’s blonde Barbie spawns?

Things just kept getting worse. Sam was late to class, so the only seat available was right in front of Sophie and Tess, and apparently a third one, named Molly, who had matching perfect blonde hair. God! Maybe Sam could just dye her hair blonde and they’d think she was one of them.

Halfway through class, Sophie leaned forward and poked Sam with a sharp pencil. “Psst.”

Sam tried to ignore her.

“Psst! It’s Samantha, right?”

Sam peeked over her shoulder.

“I’m not gonna bite you,” Sophie whispered after a dramatic eye-roll.

“What do you want?” Sam asked.

“Are you really dating Devon James?”

“No!” Sam said a little too loudly. A few other students looked at her.

“Good. Because that would be a bad idea. Devon’s not a good guy. And you’re new here. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Jesus! Was Sophie threatening her? Wasn’t that the kind of thing people said on the Sopranos? Then Sam’s defenses kicked in. Who was Sophie to talk shit about Devon? Devon was the only good person Sam had met so far—although saying so seemed like suicide at the moment. She wussed out and instead muttered, “Well, there’s nothing to worry about because we’re not dating.”

“It’s just that it seems you two spend a lot of time together,” Sophie added a few minutes later.

Really? Sam thought their conversation was over.

“I sorta have to. I’m staying at his family’s house. Our parents are friends. It’s a long story.”

“So you’re not dating him?” Sophie asked again.

“No!”

Tess chimed in. “Then why did I see you two shopping for lingerie?”

“It was just a joke.”

“And I saw you dancing with him at my cousin’s wedding,” Molly added.

“We went as friends,” Sam replied.

“But my boyfriend said you told him you were dating Devon,” Tess continued.

Sam scoffed. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

“Sean Dougherty,” she said proudly.

“Oh.” The prick from the sports shop. What are the chances?

“Listen, Samantha,” Sophie purred. “It seems you’re confused about what’s going on between you and Devon, so let me help you figure it out. Stay away from him or you’re not going to like it here.”

“What are you talking about? And didn’t you break up with Devon for his best friend?”

Sophie laughed. “If you think Zander and Devon are friends you’re even dumber than you look.”

Then the bell rang, and the three evil blondes flounced out of class, like they hadn’t just been spouting death threats.

* * *

Sam really didn’t think things could get worse after calculus. But she was wrong. All through her Poly-Sci class a steady stream of boys walked past her desk laying panties with their phone numbers scrolled on them on top of her books. Her face was burning with shame. And the stupid teacher was either too old or too blind to notice what was happening. Or maybe panty-grams were a normal first day greeting at Eddington. Either way, all Sam could do was stuff them in her backpack and try not to cry.

One of the girls sitting behind Sam snickered. “I heard all it takes to get her in bed is a new pair of panties.”

“That’s because she goes through them so quickly,” another one added.

Sam closed her eyes and prayed to just make it through the day. Twenty more minutes. You can do this.

When the bell finally rang Sam gathered her things and bolted from the classroom. When she got to the portico she realized it was pouring. She grabbed her umbrella—the one Devon told her she’d need that morning—thankful for at least one mercy in this hellish first day. She unsnapped the umbrella and started opening it above her as she rushed down the steps to the parking lot. She was midstride when a colorful storm of lace rained down around her from inside the umbrella. She looked at her feet and saw soggy pairs of panties strewn over the parking lot. Then, she looked up to see one more pair dangling from the umbrella, caught in the wires. She yanked it free and froze as she stared up at the words someone had written inside the umbrella. Last chance . . .

A burst of laughter nearby caught Sam’s attention and she looked over to see a group of blondes giggling wildly. One of them held a cell phone, steadily aimed at Sam, recording her mortifying moment, while Sophie smiled and waved.

Devon

“I swear to God, Devon. They’re threatening me. We have to go to the principal.”

“Headmaster.”

“Whatever. We need to tell an adult. Those bitches are crazy. And they’re planning something.”

“That’s just how they are. They always try to stir up trouble, but they’re all talk. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“How can you say that? This morning you were all, everything’s going to be grand, Sam. Does grand mean psychotic in Ireland? How did you deal with Eddington all these years?”

“It wasn’t always like this. Or maybe it was, but I dunno . . . I was never targeted.”

“So you’re saying you used to be popular and now just because you quit the soccer team everyone hates you?”

“Football! And yes, basically.”

Sam frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Something similar happened at Stanton a few years ago, and it didn’t end well. I really think we need to tell the administration what’s going on.”

“Listen, I’m not going to stop you if you really want to talk to the Headmaster,” Devon said. “But there’s nothing he can do. Going to Eddington is a privilege. Parents pay a lot of money so their kids can go here. Which basically means the students get away with murder because no one wants to piss off the people footing the bills. He’ll most likely say if Eddington isn’t to your liking, find a different school.”

Sam looked like she was going to cry and it was breaking Devon’s heart. He knew all of this was his fault. And he had a plan to fix it, but it would depend on Zander’s cooperation. Until Devon could smooth things over and get the target off Sam, the best thing he could do was to distance himself from her—even if that was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe tomorrow we shouldn’t drive to school together.”

“What? How am I supposed to get to school?”

“We have a car service. I’ll ask Thorton to drive you.”

“So that’s it? You’re ditching me already? Some almost boyfriend you are.”

“Sam, come on. It’s not like that. We’re still friends.”

“Don’t, Devon. Don’t you dare give me the, I like you, but only when no one else is around, bullshit. I’m not an idiot. I used to be popular too.”

Devon forced his mouth shut and ground his teeth to stop himself from objecting. He wanted to scream. Sam couldn’t actually think that’s what he thought of her, could see? He fucking loved her. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But not if it meant hurting her. Not when it was his fault school was a nightmare for her. He could take it if she was angry with him, as long as it would protect her. What were a few more days of Sam not knowing he was in love with her? He’d waited this long. A little bit longer wouldn’t kill him.