Gavin is falling hard for Clarissa, but he’s keeping a secret. When Clarissa learns the truth, she’ll want nothing more to do with him.
Read a sample of In This Moment:
Despite my best efforts in choosing a soft, mellow tune on my phone, when the alarm goes off at six-thirty in the freaking morning, that sound is what nightmares are made of. I groan and roll out of bed, wondering how the hell I’ve survived so many years of school before now.
Only two more left, and today is the first day of my junior year of high school.
Blah!
I spent most of my summer being heartbroken, and yet it still went by too fast. Rolling my eyes, I throw on some jeans, a new pair of running shoes, and a purple tank top. Then I grab a sweater because even though it’s a million degrees outside in this Texas heat, usually the classrooms are freezing.
Mom smiles at me from the kitchen, where she’s eating a bowl of cereal. She’s not tall. She’s just average height. I got all my tall genes from my dad. “Hi, baby,” she says. “Haven’t seen you this early in months.”
She laughs at her joke. I don’t know what I’ll do when I graduate and have to get a real job working all year long. Summer breaks are amazing and everyone should get them.
I grab some toast and head out the door in just enough time to catch the bus. The stupid thing is five minutes earlier than it was last year. On the ride to school, I study my new schedule. They changed things up this year. Now we all have a fifteen minute homeroom class at the start of the day before our real classes begin. It sounds stupid, but oh well. The homeroom class is supposed to be where they make the morning announcements and the teacher will pass out any important papers. We are all put in classes based on last names, so as a Vale, I’m at the end of the alphabet.
My best friend Livi Garner will be in another homeroom, and to our epic dismay when we discussed schedules the other day, we have no freaking classes together. Not even lunch. She’s first lunch and I’m second lunch, so at most, we’ll see each other before and after school for just a few minutes.
This year is already total crap.
Livi waits for me in the bus drop off lot. Her long golden hair has been curled in big waves that fall around her shoulders. Her makeup is also on point, and I wonder how the girl wakes up so early to get all dolled up each day. Unlike some people, she doesn’t just do this for the first day of school. She does it every day. It’s sort of inspiring.
“Hey,” she says, joining me in the walk to hell’s gates, er, I mean school.
“Blahhhh,” I say back. She laughs.
“Your greenhouse looks awesome.”
I glance to the right, where you can barely see the daycare which is next to the high school. A little green square hovers in the distance in the land between the two buildings.
“I’m pretty excited for it,” I say.
“Okay don’t freak out, but look at me,” Livi says, her voice suddenly alarmed.
Of course that makes me look over. “Don’t!” she repeats, grabbing my arm. “Look at me! And laugh like I’m telling a hilarious joke.”
I try to smile, but it’s too late. I’ve accidently seen Shawn in the crowd of students. He’s looking gorgeous as always, his amber hair gelled back, his bright green eyes smiling right at—ugh—Mindy.
I can’t help but watch as she slides her stupid arm around his back and he does the same, loping a long arm over her petite shoulders.
Mindy is very tan, and very cute, with long brown hair that has blue tips. She’s like a hot gothic girl, and if I’m recalling correctly, she’s also totally rich. I’ve never hung out in her friend group, but she has parties with her other rich friends a lot.
None of that bothers me, though. The very clear and present fact is that my ex left me for a girl who is very short. I bet he loves the way he can throw his arm around her shoulders and look down at her like she’s some stupid, tiny princess. He hated when I wore anything other than flipflops or flats because he didn’t want me looking taller than he was.
It’s not like I can help how tall my freaking bones want to grow.
“Rissa, stop it,” Livi hisses in my ear. Her fingers dig into my arm and she steers me down a side hallway, doing her best friend duty to pull me away from staring at my idiotic ex.
I sigh and lean back against the cool painted brick wall. “Thanks.”
“I got you,” she says. Livi is also short. It never bothered me until now. Now I hate every short girl ever. Okay, maybe not my best friend, but the rest of them.
“You, stay strong,” she says, unaware of my evil thoughts against short girls. “This is a new school year and we’re going to rock it. Don’t worry about that asshole and his stupid new girlfriend.”
I force a smile. “You’re right. I won’t.”
We break off when the bell rings and head to our homeroom classes. Mine is in a room in the art hallway, and the teacher, Mrs. Lin, is this older woman with extra thick glasses. She teaches a class on art history, so it’s like the most boring art class there is. You don’t make anything in here, you just learn. Luckily, I’m only here for homeroom.
Mrs. Lin stands at the door, smiling as we enter. “Your name is on your assigned seat,” she says to everyone who walks in. I head to the row with the few other V last names and find Vale written on a post-it note on the desk that’s supposed to be mine.
Only the asshole with Voss written on his post-it note is already sitting in the chair behind me, his big stupid feet laid out on my chair as if it’s his own personal ottoman.
He doesn’t even notice me stop in front of my desk and stare at him. He’s a jock, a soccer player by the looks of his stupid black hoodie with the soccer team logo on it. He’s chatting with two other equally stupid soccer players who are sitting in the next row.
I clear my throat.
He doesn’t even look over.
“Excuse you,” I say, loud enough to get his attention. “Your feet are on my chair.”
His eyes meet mine. They’re a bright blue, and would match his short brown hair nicely if he wasn’t a stupid jock douche. Shawn is a jock, a baseball player to be exact, and because of him I now hate not only every short girl, but every jock as well.
“What’s the magic word?” he says. He gives me this stupid smirk like he’s stupid enough to think I’m going to ask him nicely to move his feet off my chair. And to make matters worse, his stupid friends laugh like this is all some funny game. I’m tired of playing games with guys.
I sling my backpack off my shoulders, and swoop it down, using it to knock his feet off my chair in one quick motion. “The magic word is get the fuck off my desk,” I say.
And then I sit down, ignoring the laughter from his idiot friends.