My cell buzzes. It’s a text from Genius Boy himself.
TREY: I’m outside. You ready?
ME: Yeah. 1 sec.
“Genius Boy is here,” I tell my parents, shoving the rest of a pancake into my mouth.
“Does he want to come in?” Dad asks. “Tell him there’s plenty of leftover pancakes and eggs.”
ME: My p’s want to know if you want pancakes & eggs.
TREY: I already ate. Make sure you tell them I said thanks!
ME: Kiss ass.
TREY:
I take another forkful of eggs, hug my parents good-bye as I set my dishes in the sink, and head out the door.
My mom follows with her cell in hand.
“Let me take a picture of you two,” she calls out, waving to Trey as she follows me out of the house in her high heels.
She doesn’t realize that Victor Salazar is in Trey’s car. My mom halts as soon as she notices him.
“Oh,” she says, taken aback.
No matter what I tell my parents, Vic’s reputation speaks for itself. He’s been arrested for fighting more than a few times, and they don’t like that we have the same friends. He also has a perpetual grim look on his face. I think it’s his way of telling people not to get too close so they don’t know how messed up his family life is.
“Okay, um, well…” Mom practically stutters.
Trey steps out of the car. “Vic, come on. Mrs. Fox wants to take a picture of us.”
“I think she wants to take a picture of just you and Monika,” Vic says, his gravelly voice sounding like he doesn’t give a shit if he’s included in the picture.
I open the passenger door and pull on Vic’s arm. “Come on,” I say. “It’s picture time.”
“I don’t do pictures,” he mumbles.
“Humor me,” I tell him. “Let’s get this over with quick so we’re not late and don’t get detentions.”
Vic shrugs. “I actually want to be late.”
Mom clears her throat as Vic steps out of the car. I haven’t seen him much this summer, and he looks totally buff. Trey and Vic have been working out a lot in preparation for the upcoming football season. He’s wearing a football jersey like Trey, but Vic has on ripped jeans while Trey is wearing skinny jeans that show off his lean, muscular legs. They’re best friends but different in so many ways.
I situate myself between the guys and smile while my mom takes the picture.
“Text me a copy of that,” Trey says.
“Sure thing,” Mom says, texting him from her phone. Yep, my parents have my boyfriend’s phone number programmed into their contacts.
Vic shakes his head the slightest bit, as if he can’t understand how Trey could be so accepted by his girlfriend’s parents. Vic is a guy who avoids parental interaction as much as possible.
When we arrive at school ten minutes later, we walk in the building and congregate in the senior hallway. All our friends are here. Derek and Ashtyn are staring into each other’s eyes as if they’re trying to jump into each other’s souls. Bree is fixing her hair, making sure she looks better than perfect. Jet is getting the attention of all the single girls. He’s used to it, especially after he started modeling and his picture popped up in stores and magazines. He’s become a mini-celebrity in Fremont.
Trey, who’s been by my side the entire time, gets a text. He turns his phone away so I don’t see the screen, making me feel like he’s hiding something.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
“Why? What’s up? Who just texted you?”
Ugh. I’m aware I sound like a clingy, controlling girlfriend. Last week when we hung out he was preoccupied with texting someone on his phone. He told me it was his cousin a bunch of times, then he told me his sister kept texting him. I didn’t question it then, but I’m feeling like there’s a wall between us right now.
“It’s my dad,” Trey explains. “He wants me to call him. I’ll be back.” He gives me a peck on the lips. “Love ya.”
“I love you too,” I say, the words coming out automatically.
I watch him walk away, and a sinking feeling fills my stomach.
I turn around to see Cassidy Richards walk over to Vic, whose locker is next to mine. She plays with the ends of her long, curly blond hair and licks her lips. It’s obvious she wants his attention, but he’s not biting.
“Hey, Vic,” Cassidy says in a flirty tone.
“’Sup,” he responds.
Cassidy is on the cheer squad with me and definitely tries to get information about Vic’s life whenever she can. I work on decorating my locker while trying to ignore their conversation. It’s hard, though, since it’s happening right in front of me.
“I heard you got in a fight last night,” Cassidy says in an accusatory tone. “Over Heather Graves. So do you like her now?”
Vic closes his locker. “Seriously?” he says.
Cassidy puts her hands on her hips. “It’s a legit question.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Fine, be that way.” She huffs a few times. “I was just trying to make conversation.”
“You were tryin’ to start gossip,” he responds.
Cassidy storms away while Vic shakes his head in frustration.
I attach a mirror and decorate the inside of my locker with pictures of friends and magazine cutouts, aware that Vic is watching me.