I hadn’t quite been able to believe it myself, actually.
“After you,” he’d said politely.
I wasn’t sure which had startled me more: the fact that he was the first person to have spoken to me all day — besides Jade — or the fact that he was so nonthreateningly gorgeous in a boy-band kind of way: tall, blue eyed, friendly smile at the ready, revealing a set of perfectly straight white teeth, a tan you could tell had come from healthy outdoor living and not from a salon, as had the blond highlights in his sandy-brown hair.
All of this was capped off with a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo that showed off his biceps.
Unbelievable.
Kite sailing, if I had to guess. You didn’t get biceps — but also a tan — from regular sailing.
“Thanks,” I said, not smiling.
It was right then that the ocean breeze swept my pink class schedule out from the top of my bag.
“Oh, here,” he said, letting go of the door. “Let me get that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. I just wanted him to go away. He was like the concept of an outdoor cafeteria: I did not understand.
It was too late, though. He’d already peeled my schedule from where it had plastered itself against a trash can with a sticker on it that said THIS IS FOR CANS AND BOTTLES ONLY.
“So, Pierce Oliviera,” he said, looking down at my schedule as he handed it back to me. He let out a laugh. “D-Wing, huh?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. I guess he could tell from my expression, since he was only too happy to explain.
“It’s cool, don’t worry about it,” he said. This seemed strange, coming right on the heels of Jade telling me to give myself a break. At least he hadn’t told me to relax. I hate it when people tell me to relax. “New Pathways, right?”
I stared at him. How had he known? Was I wearing a sign or something? I’d dressed so carefully that morning. It was my first day in public school, which meant my first day with no uniform…my first day of school wearing whatever I wanted. What had I done wrong?
“Everyone in D-Wing is in New Pathways,” he explained. “Not that that’s a bad thing. New Pathways is great. I’ve had a lot of friends go through New Pathways. It’s a great program. Really grea —”
I leaned over and took the schedule from him, then stuffed it back into my bag. He was making me nervous. The more attractive people were, the more nervous I tended to get around them.
Maybe that was because attractive people also tended to be so engaged, and engaged people freaked me out. How did they keep their clothes so neat? This guy’s shirt was so white. How had he not spilled anything on it by now? That couldn’t be right. The only good thing about not having to wear a uniform anymore — that I could tell — was that at least I could wear black shirts, so the stains wouldn’t show.
John never wore white. To me, this was a good thing.
Oh, right, I was never thinking about him again.
“I have rage issues,” I informed the guy. Everyone was going to figure it out sometime. Might as well get it out in the open.
“Hey, it’s not the worst thing,” he said, showing me all those dazzling teeth. “I mean, you’re still Pierce Oliviera. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling because he had. Jade had told me when I wasn’t sure about how to react to something, I should just mimic the behaviors of the people I saw around me. “I guess.”
You’re still Pierce Oliviera? What did that even mean? Had that been a smirky “You’re related to Zack Oliviera” smile?
Or a “Your mom’s brother is the guy who went to jail for so long” smile?
Or a “Aren’t you the girl who did that thing to that teacher?” smile?
I couldn’t tell. Maybe all three. Maybe none of the above. I wish John hadn’t thrown my necklace into the night.
No, I didn’t. He was a jerk. I was done with him. I was on a New Pathway.
I pointed at the doors to the auditorium. “Are you —”
“Oh, sure, yeah.” The guy leaned over and opened the door again. A deafening blast of sound hit us.
“Thanks,” I said, and walked away from him.
Shake it off, I told myself. That was what Jade would call a positive interaction. It had been epic.
Except maybe it hadn’t been. Because when I saw the guy in the polo shirt for a second time inside, he looked over at me again and smiled. He’d joined up with a few of his buddies. They all smiled at me, too. Two girls with flat-ironed hair (a miracle to achieve in southern Florida) started giving me the evil eye. They were tapping on the keypads of their cell phones with their white nail tips. I was amazed that they could type and glare at someone at the same time. That was taking multitasking to a whole new level.
“D-Wing,” one of them sneered at me. Like this was some huge insult.
What was everyone’s obsession with D-Wing around here?
Hoping I wasn’t about to have a full-blown panic attack — the throbbing at the back of my neck was stronger than ever — I looked around the auditorium, unable to find Alex anywhere. I did, however, see a girl I recognized from my econ class. She’d been in the New Pathways office last week, having her own orientation sessions with a different counselor. I remembered her because…well, she was a little difficult to forget. Also, I’d noticed whenever she’d been around, my necklace turned purple. I didn’t know what it meant, but she was sitting on the end of an aisle, and there were tons of empty seats around her.