Trey chuckles. “Yeah, right. Vic, the day my girlfriend would go out with you is the day you get on the honor roll.”
That’s a true but depressing thought. “Well, that’s never gonna happen.”
“Exactly.” He gestures toward his cell. “So what did she say?”
“She said, ‘Hey.’”
“Text her ‘Hey’ back.”
I roll my eyes. “You guys are fuckin’ boring.”
“Oh yeah? If you acquired a girlfriend, what would you be texting her?”
“You don’t acquire a girlfriend, Trey. But if I had one, I’d text her a helluva lot more than ‘Hey.’ Especially if I had a vocabulary like yours.” I’d probably say something along the lines of how I thought about her all night and can’t get her out of my mind.
“I text my side chicks dirty stuff,” he jokes. “Do I get street cred for that?”
“Yeah, right.” Everyone knows that Trey and his girlfriend, Monika Fox, are inseparable and will most likely get married one day. He wouldn’t cheat on her.
The truth is, Trey has no clue I’ve been in love with Monika for years.
But he’s dating her, so under our unspoken Code of Bros, she’s eternally off-limits.
Even if I can’t get her out of my mind.
Chapter Two
MONIKA
I hate getting out of bed in the morning, even during the summer months when I can sleep until noon. Today is the first day of my senior year. When my alarm woke me at six this morning, I was reminded that summer vacation is over.
I shuffle, semi–hunched over, to the bathroom. After I brush my teeth, I stare at the medicine bottle on the counter. The pills are staring back at me, saying, “Take me!”
I pop one in my mouth and swallow it with a cupful of water.
“Monika!” Mom yells from the foyer. “You up?”
“Yeah!” I call out before I step in the shower.
“Good. I’m making your breakfast soon, so hurry up! I don’t want it to get cold.”
In the shower, I close my eyes and let the hot water wash over my body. When I get out, I feel a hundred times better… closer to normal. And when I walk downstairs in my cheerleading uniform, the required attire for cheerleaders on the first day of school, I’m pumped.
Adrenaline is racing through my veins. I’m ready for this. I feel great right now.
“You look so cute,” Mom says, kissing me on the cheek. My mother places a plate full of pancakes in the middle of the table and another plate with two eggs in front of me. “Here,” she says.
I laugh. “This is enough for the entire Fremont High student body, Mom.”
“Your mother got carried away,” Dad says, appearing in the doorway wearing khakis and a custom button-down shirt with the name Dr. Neal Fox embroidered on it. I used to wish my dad was a different kind of doctor than a plastic surgeon, but then I met a patient of his who had his face bitten by a Pit Bull. He told me my dad was his hero. He said he would have wanted to die if my dad hadn’t helped him, and that changed my perspective on everything.
Dad kisses the top of my head. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“Great,” I tell him.
“Did you take your pills?”
“Yes, Dad. You ask me that question every morning, and I always give you the same answer. When will you stop asking?”
“Never.”
“He’ll probably text you every morning when you’re in college,” Mom says, nudging my dad playfully.
My dad gives me a guilty grin as he wraps his arms around my mom’s waist and kisses her. “You know me so well, darling.”
Yes, my parents flirt with each other. Sometimes I groan about it, but most of my friends’ parents are divorced or not living together. It’s comforting knowing that my parents actually love each other.
Mom, who works as an advertising executive, pulls out her cell and points it at me.
I raise a brow. “What are you doing, Mom?”
“Taking a picture of you on your first day of senior year. It’s so exciting!” Her grin is so wide I want to laugh.
“Umm… Mom, I’m not graduating high school yet,” I tell her. “It’s just the first day. What if I get all Cs? Or Ds? Are you going to take a picture of me then?”
“Of course we will, Monika,” Dad says as he takes a sip of his morning tea. “But if you get all As you can pick what college you want to go to. That’ll be a bonus.”
“No pressure there, Dad,” I say jokingly. It’s no secret that my dad graduated at the top of his class.
“We just want you to do your best,” Mom says, snapping another pic. “If you don’t, your uncle Thomas will come here and talk some sense into you.”
“Cool. I love Uncle Thomas, even if he is a hardass.” I give my parents a questioning look. “If Cs are my best, you’re both okay with it?”
My parents glance at each other, then look back at me.
“You’re not a C student, Monika,” Mom says.
“And neither is your boyfriend,” Dad chimes in. “From what I understand, Trey is on track to be valedictorian of Fremont High.”
“How did you know?”
He holds up his mug in salute. “Trey told me. That boy is a genius.”
Leave it to my boyfriend to talk to my father about colleges and school rank. That and football are his go-to topics of conversation.