The Tattooed Devil Wears Chucks

The New Neighbor: Courtney

Gabby.

Late. Late. Late. Shit, I'm late.

It takes skill to run past the front offices and not be seen by my mother, whose desk sits front and center of those offices with a door open and ready to catch one of her two daughters strolling through on the brink of the first bell. I've come to master this skill. I wait for Mike Sandiski to enter first, knowing he's already on her shit list for forging his dad's signature on a day release. My mother is not only the secretary—official eyes and ears of Luxberg High—but also a Luxberg-lifer. That means everyone in town loves Vicky Brooks, and she knows everyone—including Mike's father who did not sign his name on a release last week. As soon as her voice calls out for my classmate, her finger summoning him to her office, I make my move and zip towards Senior Hall.

I dodge numerous fellow students in my attempt to get to my locker. Many of them are lost in discussions of their weekend or last Friday's football game against the Coyotes—a school rival. They pay no attention to me as I push between them, which is how I prefer it. I could care less about the football game and more about cursing whoever put the senior lockers in the back of this building. Apparently, they feel that seniors should know better than to arrive late to class every day. Not me—I tend to not learn from my mistakes.

"Shit." I huff, seeing Tyler Porter in his green and gold letterman jacket, blocking me from my things. I don't learn from my mistakes, other than the one leaning himself against my locker.

"You're late again." He laughs, giving the football in his hands a toss into the air. It spins just until it's above his messy, black hair before falling back into his large hands.

Ignoring him, I toss my red JanSport backpack to his feet and begin spinning my memorized combination into the padlock that he's just barely attempting to block. When he realizes that his stance is doing him no good, he moves one step to the left and instead leans himself into Morgan's locker. Knowing my best friend well, she got here nice and early to save our spots in Biology.

"Great game, Ty!" a girl behind me chirps, boosting Tyler's ego and the size of his grin.

"Thanks, Lilly."

I turn just in time to see Lilly and two of her friends eying their star quarterback and baseball captain like he's made of pure gold. My eyes roll hard when their little group realizes he's waiting on me. Smiles fall and form a look of confusion. They are so right to question him and his intentions right now. The Tyler Porter is waiting on Gabby Brooks—the invisible girl.

I wish I was invisible right now.

"Shouldn't that be open by now?" His eyebrow lifts. He points to the padlock in my hand that I've been mindlessly spinning since arriving at his side.

The heat in my face rises. With an annoyed sigh, I start the combination over.

"Seven, thirteen, twenty..." He chuckles.

There's the annoying prick I'm used to.

"Go fuck yourself," I mutter, finally opening the padlock and freeing it from the metal handle of my locker.

Tyler smiles smugly—a trait much more adorable on his older brother, Kane. "No need. I have you for that. Remember?"

I'm not about to rehash homecoming weekend and what I remember and don't. Especially not right here in the middle of senior hall. Besides, he has no filter and loves reminding me daily, right here, in this very spot. It's best to just ignore him, but today he seems unusually close with his hovering.

"May I help you with something?" I ask, unwilling to look in his direction. I toss my Social Studies book into the bottom of the locker and pull my Biology book free.