A Fresh Start Read online

  He starts to come at me again, but I stop him by putting my hand up. “Why, Ronnie? Why did you end what we had? It was good between us.”

  Clearly he thinks we had something more than I did. “What we had? We slept together a couple times over a year ago. It was nothing more than that. Why are you bringing all this up again? I thought we had this talk already.”

  He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “I know, dammit. You don’t think I could forget that lame ass excuse you gave me for stopping what we had?” Telling him I didn’t want a relationship was lame? Would telling him the truth have been better?

  “Why are you bringing all this up?” I stare at him, wondering where this is coming from. Rodger said he was fine with ending it after the second time. I wasn’t into him the way he was me.

  He lets go of his hair and grabs me by the shoulders. “Because I don’t like the way that asshole was looking at you, okay?”

  “Who are you talking about?” I ask him.

  “That douchbag, Gibson. He couldn’t keep his fucking eyes off you all class.” By the twitch in his eye, I can tell Rodger is angry. This is the first time I’ve seen him mad and I don’t know what to expect.

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about. Gibson is just some new student. He’ll probably get bored of this town anyway and leave soon,” I say, trying to soothe him.

  “Don’t worry, I warned him to stay away from you. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away.” He heads toward the door, but I grab his arm just in time.

  “What do you mean you warned him? Why would you warn him?”

  “Because, if I can’t have you, no one can. Just had to set him straight.” With that, Rodger walks out of my room, leaving me wondering what this whole talk was about.

  I don’t get a chance to talk more with Rodger before he goes home after dinner, which is a shame. I would have really liked to know what he meant by “if I can’t have you, no one can”.

  After I finish my homework, I log in to my social media account. Right away, status after status of the new student overwhelms my newsfeed. There are girls talking about how hot he is and guys posting about how awesome they think having a rock star’s son at our school will be.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. I go to the search box at the top of the page and type in ‘Gibson Mitchell’. His name pops right up. I debate whether I should be snooping on him, then figure, why not? If his stuff is public, then he wants people to see.

  After clicking on his page, I’m met with the same dark-haired boy from today. In his profile picture, he’s playing an acoustic guitar, focusing on his fingers.

  His cover photo is a drastic change from the man I see in his profile. It’s Gibson and some other people at what looks like a party, but what I can’t take my eyes off is the redhead in a short, skimpy dress plastered to Gibson like she’s an octopus and he’s her next meal. Gibson is holding her just as tight, with his hands on her behind and his face nestled into the crook of her neck while her head is thrown back in laughter.

  The two photos are polar opposites. On one end is a man with a lot on his mind and on the other is a playboy—the exact bad boy my dad was talking about. Maybe I should stay away from him…

  The next day in English class, I decide to ask Gibson about what Rodger had said to me last night instead of approaching Rodger. I don’t like what he told me, but I also don’t want to have to talk to him after what happened. I’ve never felt uncomfortable around Rodger before, we’ve know each other for years, but after the incident, I feel the need to keep my guard up. I’m not a fan of someone coming into my room and assuming they can attack me.

  Allen and I are the first to our table, so while he’s looking at every DIY board on Pinterest, I’m getting my fill of Jennifer’s writing on my Kindle. A few minutes later, there’s a change in the atmosphere of the room. Gibson just walked in. I can feel him. Like my body knows he’s here.

  “Hey there, Gibby. Heard you tried to run a few bases yesterday with my girl here,” Allen says, looking up from his phone.

  “Allen!” I yell, my face going red. I glance toward Gibson, who is sporting a cocky smirk.

  “I don’t know what bases you’re talking about. I always go for the homerun,” Gibson says, winking at me.

  I roll my eyes at the both of them and their ridiculous talk. “Okay, you two. You’ve had your fun. I already told you I just drove Gibson home, Allen.”

  He quirks a brow at me and goes back to his pinning. Gibson pulls out his own phone and starts to text someone.

  Deciding to take this opportunity to talk to him, I lean over to Gibson, and ask, “Do you mind if we go into the hallway to talk?”

  He looks up at me from his phone. “Yeah, sure.”

  We both stand, getting Allen’s attention in the process. “Where are you two lovebirds heading?”

  “We’re going out in the hallway to talk for just a second. And stop with the whole ‘lovebirds’ thing. No more trying to play matchmaker.”

  Gibson and I make our way toward the door as Allen yells, “Never, Ronnie! I will get you your happily ever after.” He watches way too many Nicholas Sparks movies.

  Once we make our way out into the hallway, Gibson leans against the lockers by the door. I turn to face him and the scruff on his jaw distracts me from my original intention. I like it…too much.

  “You know, if you just wanted to stare at me, you didn’t need to get me to come all the way out into the hallway,” he says with his signature smirk on his face.

  I choose to ignore his comment and get to the point of why I asked him out here. “What did Rodger say to you yesterday?”

  Gibson crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow. “You mean after class?” he asks. I nod, and he continues. “Nothing, really. He was talking some bullshit about how I should stay away from you because you’re his. Very caveman like. Not my thing.”

  Throwing my hands up, I let out a groan. “Ugh, just ignore him. I have no clue what has gotten into him lately.”

  “So, the two of you aren’t together?” Gibson asks.

  I shake my head before he can even finish his sentence. “No. There was this thing last sum—never mind. All you need to know is we aren’t and never will be anything.”

  Gibson looks at me and smiles. “Good,” he says, sending a warmth through my body. Before I get a chance to reply, Sean and Rodger make their way toward the classroom, disconnecting themselves from the crowd of football players. They stop next to Gibson and me.

  Sean’s protective stance and the way he crosses his arms lets me know he’s annoyed with me talking to Gibson. Rodger makes sure to stand right next to me. So close, I can smell his overpowering cologne. I take a step away from my brother’s friend and Gibson notices.

  “What’s going on over here?” Sean asks, using his protective brother voice.

  “We were just talking. Actually, we just finished and were heading back into class right as you showed up.” I turn and head back into the classroom.

  I hear Gibson say, “What she said,” and then the sound of his footsteps coming up behind me.

  Once we all make it to our seats, Mr. Henry comes into the classroom. I’m excited for what we’ll be doing this year in English. I’ve heard we have a big writing assignment he gives us at the beginning of the year. I love reading and writing. I’ll be majoring in English when I go to UNF, so I like to read everything and anything to learn more.

  After Mr. Henry gets his coffee and briefcase situated on his desk, he turns to address the class. “All right, everyone. I hope you all had a good first day. We’re going to start off today with talking about your semester assignment. This paper may be due in December, but I want you all to be thinking about what to write and working on it over the next four months.” He opens his briefcase, grabs a stack of papers, then starts passing them out.

  Once he finishes, he heads back up to the front of the classroom. “As you can see
on the handout, this paper is going to be about your life goals. I know you are all young and maybe aren’t sure what you want for a future, and that’s okay. Some of you may have known what you wanted to do with your life since you were a kid. What I want all of you to do with this paper is write what you want out of life. Talk about how you want to change yourself and what you want for your future. If you plan on going to college, talk about what you want to study and why you’re choosing that profession. If you want to marry your high school sweetheart and start a family, talk about that and explain why it’s what you want. All I really want are your passions for the future and why you have them.”

  He takes a second to write the due date on the board and then grabs another piece of paper off his desk. “You are all seniors now. I’m expecting you to act like adults about this assignment and not put something ridiculous like ‘I want to grow up and be the next big rapper and make millions’. Make this realistic. And if that is your dream, you better give me a damn good paper on why that is.”

  This has to be the best assignment I have ever gotten. Not only do we get to write, we are being told to do a paper on a topic I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about for a while now. To be able to put down all the words I want to say to my parents on paper is perfect. It can help me for when I tell them about my dream of moving and going to UNF.

  Mr. Henry clears his throat. “I am doing something new this year that I think would help all of my students. I’m assigning everyone a partner. The two of you will not be writing this paper together, you will just be…a helper of sorts. The two of you will have to get together, discuss your topics and points, and help each other through the writing process. My students last year took a vote and said they believe this could help when writing their papers.”

  After Mr. Henry names off most of the students in class, pairing Rodger with the girl who ate glue when we were in middle school, there are only six of us left, and among those six are Sean, Allen, me…and Gibson. I cross my fingers, hoping he pairs me with Allen. After he names off the other two students, there’s only the four of us left. Please don’t put Gibson and me together.

  Mr. Henry faces our table and looks at his sheet of paper. “And it looks like Sean and Allen will be partners. That leaves Gibson and Ronnie.” You have to be kidding me.

  Ronnie seems annoyed. She avoided eye contact with me the entire time we were in English, and now it’s lunch and she still won’t acknowledge my presence. Allen insisted I sit with them again and though I was reluctant, I didn’t really have anywhere else to sit that wouldn’t be surrounded with people wanting to know every and anything about my life.

  A long stretch of silence goes by with Ronnie staring at her pasta, pushing a meatball around while Allen and I wonder what to say to break how awkward this is. She finally stabs the poor, helpless meatball and jerks her attention up to Allen.

  “I really don’t understand why I can’t have you as a partner,” she tells him.

  Sure, that doesn’t insult me or anything. And it’s not like I want to have to share what I want out of life with anyone, especially Ronnie.

  I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Don’t worry, princess, I would rather have another partner too. Since it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

  Ronnie sits quietly for a moment, and then her face brightens.

  “What if we ask Mr. Henry to switch us up? Maybe he—”

  “Already tried,” I say, cutting her off. “He told me he thinks you’d be good since I’m new here and you’re the best student. Trust me, I tried to get him to switch us. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

  “Oh.” She goes quiet after that. After shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath, she looks at me from across the table. “All right, then I guess we’re partners.”

  Allen leans over from his seat next to Ronnie and swings his arm over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. You two will have a great bonding experience. Get to know each other a little.”

  From the frown on Ronnie’s face, I can tell this project is going to be so much fun.

  After the end of a long day, I head out of school and start the long trek home. No way am I expecting Ronnie to give me a ride after her reaction to being my partner. I think she may need time to get over her little tiff.

  As I make my way along the sidewalk beside the main road, I get to thinking about the assignment. One thing I always hated about school was when we had to talk about ourselves. When you live in a world where your life is broadcasted all over—truth or not—the last thing you want is people having more to talk about.

  Everyone knows my past and what I’m doing at the moment, but no one knows the future I want for myself. I’ve done the partying, drinking, and drugs. After being arrested and talking with my uncle and River, I realized that life isn’t what I want for myself. I want a life separate from my father’s fame.

  The first day I got to this town, my uncle made sure to go over all the rules—and there were a lot of them. The main ones were: don’t do anything against the law, be respectable to the people of his town, and don’t think with my dick. These are all things I’ve been told time and time again, mainly by River’s mom. She was more of a mother to me than my own and taught these same rules to her son. The only difference is River listened to her and I didn’t. I rebelled at a young age and I’m just now realizing I should have listened to both of them. Better late than never, right?

  A car slows next to me and someone whistles, interrupting my thoughts. When I look up, Allen is hanging his head out the window and waving a twenty-dollar bill in the air. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he yells, “Hey, hot stuff. I’m looking for a little piece tonight. How much do you cost for…hmmm…let’s say two hours? I’m feeling a little frisky.” He ends his little speech with a wink and a lick of his lips.

  As I walk up to the car, I get a nice view of Ronnie laughing in the front see. God, she has a perfect smile.

  I rest my arms on the open window after Allen pulls his head back in. “Sorry, dude, but you wouldn’t be able to afford all this.” Stepping back, I run my hands down my body, giving them a show. I glance in Ronnie’s direction. Her mouth hangs open as her eyes follow the movement of my hands. I’m starting to like that this girl can’t keep her eyes off me. Glad to know the feeling is mutual.

  “Damn, boy! How much do you cost? With a body like that, I’m will to pay anything,” Allen says, fanning himself. I’m really starting to like this guy and his witty humor. Most people I hung out with in L.A. weren’t so open with jokes.

  Ronnie clears her throat. “All right, horndog, take it back a little. You don’t want Officer Dan to think you’re trying to pick up a hooker, do you?”

  Allen huffs and rolls his eyes at her before turning back to me. “So, Gibby, why didn’t you wait for us to give you a ride? We stood around for you, but figured you had already left.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “I was feeling a walk today, I guess.” Total lie. This heat is killing me and the sweat covering my face is no doubt showing just how much.

  By the eye roll Ronnie gives me and the chuckle from Allen, I can tell neither of them believe me. Allen is the one to call me out. “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Do you know how hot it is out here? You live what, fifteen miles away? In this heat, you’ll pass out halfway there.” He’s probably right. I’m not used to this kind of humidity.

  Ronnie leans forward, giving me a nice view of her rack with the V-neck she’s wearing. I only glance for a second, maybe two, so she doesn’t catch me and bring up the pervert conversation again.

  “Just get in the truck, Gibson. You’re on my way home, so it’s no problem for me to drop you off.” What she says doesn’t match what I see in her eyes. She doesn’t want to be alone with me. I wouldn’t either if I thought the guy I was with was trouble.

  “Okay.” That’s all I’ve got. I really just don’t
want to walk all the way to Dan’s house.

  I hop into the backseat just like yesterday and she takes off. The radio is playing some God awful country music again today. I scrunch my nose in distaste and blink my eyes, refraining myself from checking to see if my ears are bleeding.

  “I take it you don’t like country music,” she asks, and even though I can’t see her, I hear a hint of a smile in her question.

  I wince when the guy singing goes into the chorus and there’s a little too much twang. “It’s not one of my favorites,” I tell her.

  She looks at me through the rearview mirror. “What kind of music do you like?” she asks.

  Allen jumps up in his seat. “Wait! Let me guess. I can totally get this by your look. Let’s see…you have that tattoo sleeve, the gauges, and let’s not forget about that hot lip ring. I’m going to say you’re into alternative, maybe scream-o, rock? Am I right?” He looks all excited, though he couldn’t be more off.

  Before I can tell him, Ronnie joins in. “I’m going to guess you like soft rock. Oldies. Maybe guys like The Beatles or Boston.”

  To say I’m surprised would be an understatement. I’m shocked she nailed not only my favorite type of music, but two of my favorite bands. This chick is good.

  “Sorry, Allen, but Ronnie got it right,” I say with a smile on my face.

  Allen huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. Guess someone’s a sore loser. Ronnie looks over to him and sticks her tongue out. Damn, she’s cute.

  We sit there, listening to the horrible song about some guy losing his girl until we pull up to Allen’s house. He leans over and gives Ronnie a peck on the cheek before grabbing his bag and exiting the truck. On his way to his door, he turns to walk backwards. “Be gentle with her, Gibby!” he yells, making my trip up to the front seat that much more uncomfortable.

  When I get situated, I’m surprised to see Ronnie smiling with her head down. Her cheeks have a slight tint of red to them and she starts shaking her head while putting the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.