Not the Only One (Book 1 in the Four of Us Trilogy)

Five

Luke

The weirdest thing just happened. I passed Miles Jefferson in the hallway, and it was empty other than us. I was bracing myself for a shove, a trip, or at the very least, a snide comment. There were no teachers around to scold him, so it was a perfect opportunity to get a bonus kick in.

But nothing happened. He glanced at me and kept walking.

Even though I knew I should be positive and run with this, all I can think is: "When will the other shoe drop?"

When I got back to 7th period physics, Rachel caught my eye and smiled. My face flushed, and I nodded in her direction, trying to play it cool.

As I worked through the translational motion equations Mr. Brooks had assigned, I felt my phone buzz. I glanced up, making sure Brooks wasn't looking and slid it out of my pocket.

You still in a pissy mood?

It was Rachel. Despite myself, I chuckled.

Nah, I guess I've got the stick out of my ass.

Well, that's good to know. Listen...do you understand this translational motion stuff? Because I am lost.

I somehow doubted that; Rachel was in line to be our valedictorian. I glanced at her sideways, and she was looking at her paper with her brow furrowed. But then again, why would she lie? I took a shallow breath before I typed the next text.

Come sit with me... I'll try to help you.

Really?

Yeah, see if Brooks will let you.

When I looked up, she was already on her feet and approaching Mr. Brooks at his desk. After a whispered exchange, she walked back to her table, picked up her backpack, and dropped into the seat next to me.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hello," I answered, scooting my chair away just a hair.

"Thanks for helping me, Luke."

"No problem." I cleared my throat. "So, where did you get lost with this?"

She laughed. "I don't even think I made it onto the freeway."

I couldn't help but smile. God, she's pretty. I shook my head, trying to rid it of the thoughts creeping in.

"Okay, then let's start at the beginning."

We spent the next thirty minutes in a crash course in transitional motion, and at the end of class, I had only learned and confirmed one thing.

I had a massive crush on Rachel Cross.

Rachel

Okay, so I understand transitional motion. I mean, come on; it's one of the basic principles of psychics. Even Mr. Brooks was confused upon hearing that I needed extra help.

I just wanted an excuse to sit with Luke. If I was going to help him, I had to get him to let me in, and I would not accomplish that through text messages alone. And since Miles had avoided me all day, I hadn't been able to help him either. So I had to get creative.

After class was over, I took my time packing up my bag. Luke hung around the table, letting me walk ahead of him out of the classroom. We waved goodbye to Mr. Brooks and since it was the end of the day, the hallway was already empty. We fell into a slow, silent, and comfortable walk.

"What are you doing after school?" I asked, signaling Luke to stop as I grabbed my AP Euro book out of my locker and shoved it into my backpack.

He shrugged. "The usual. Going home, listening to my mom bitch at my dad until he blows up at her and drives her to drink herself into oblivion." At my shocked look, he said, "Kidding."

I smiled weakly but didn't believe him. That wasn't a joke; it was just an admission he hadn't meant to make yet.

"Well, do you want to go get a coffee or something?" I asked.

He looked conflicted for a minute and then sighed. "I better not." He paused a moment before adding, "Raincheck?"

I nodded. "Sure thing." We had reached the parking lot and needed to go our separate ways. "Thanks again for the help today, Luke. I appreciate it."

He nodded. "Anytime. See you tomorrow, Rachel."

"See ya," I responded, and walked to my '99 Impala—a hand-me-down from my older brother James.

I'd been thinking about my brother for the past few days, so I thought today might be a good day to go see him. I hopped in the car, started the engine, and drove east on Panama City Beach Parkway.

Miles

"Jefferson! What the hell is with you today?" Coach Wilkins yelled as I swung the bat a third time, striking out. I exhaled and threw the bat behind me, stalking off toward the dugout.

"I'm sorry, Coach, I'm just in my head–" I began, removing my helmet.

With a harsh scoff, he snapped, "Yeah, I can see that. Our game against South Walton is in ten days. Do I need to remind you it's a district game?"

I shook my head. "No sir. I promise I'll be with it tomorrow."

"You better be." He peered at me for a moment, and his face softened. He nodded toward the parking lot. "Why don't you take off, son? You need to get your head on straight."

"No, Coach, I–"

He held up his hand. "No buts. I'll see you tomorrow."

My shoulders slumped, and I nodded. "Thanks, Coach...see you tomorrow."

He patted me on the back and I made my way to the parking lot, hanging my head in humiliation. But he was right; my head wasn't in the game. I couldn't stop thinking about the question Rachel had asked me last night...and when I saw Salazar today, I couldn't even bring myself to do more than glance his way. This had thrown me for a loop and I don't know why. Coach had never asked me to leave practice before...except when...

My phone vibrated, and my chest constricted as I fished it out of my bat pack. I'd been avoiding Rachel all day because I knew she wanted to dig around and figure out what I meant yesterday when I said I saw myself in Luke Salazar. How could I let that slip?

It was just my dad. My heart stopped for a millisecond. Was it possible he already knew they had asked me to leave practice? He would shit his pants, and I was counting on having this extra 2 hours to myself. I was careful to only read it from the lock screen so he wouldn't see the read receipt. I would never have my phone on me during practice.

Stop by the store and get laundry detergent on your way home from practice.

I rolled my eyes. No please, thank you, kiss my ass, nothing.

But I'd do it.

You didn't tell my father "no."

But I was going somewhere else first.