I wake up early the next morning, not exactly feeling rested, but feeling much less tired than I did last night. As I wipe the gunk from my eyes and blink several times in an attempt to wake myself up, I try to remember the dream I had last night, but nothing rings a bell.

I groan. I hate when I have good dreams and can’t remember them. I know the dream I had was a good one; I just can’t remember what it was. And that seriously aggravates me.

I try and shrug it off, and get out of bed so I can get ready for school.

Ugh, school.

I am so not in the mood for the school right now. I mean, I never really am in the morning, so this is nothing special.

School is so much more than going to classes and enduring them. When you add in the social aspects of daily high school life, you see how tiring it can get. Between basketball practice and keeping up the odd teammate-friendship I have with all the guys and then balancing that out with my own little friend group, which has expanded by two people very recently—Emery, of course, and I have a feeling Katy is going to become a more regular seat at our lunch table soon.

Not that I’m complaining! I like Katy!

Hmm. Was I dreaming about Katy?

No. I shake my head to myself. No, I wasn’t dreaming about Katy. I tell myself to give up, that trying to remember is just going to frustrate me more.

So I try and let it go, as I pull on a pair of black jeans and a gray Fall Out Boy t-shirt.

“Gabe!” I shout, as I make an attempt—and subsequently, fail—at combing through my hair. Eventually, I give up, and let it do whatever it wants. I pull on my sneakers, grab my backpack, and run down the stairs. Gabe isn’t there yet.

“Gabe!” I yell up the stairs, louder this time.

“Here you go, sweetie.” My mom says with a smile, handing me a banana.

“Thanks, Mom.” I say, hurriedly, and grab Gabe by the ear when he comes barreling down the stairs. “We’re going to be late, you tool.” I say, dragging him by the ear out the door.

“Language!” my mom cries after us, half-heartedly.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Gabe whines.

“Shut up.” I say.

As you may have guessed, I am not a morning person—especially after I’ve woken from a good dream that I can’t remember!

Sorry, that’s just really getting to me.

In the care, Gabe blabbers on and on about something or other that’s going on at school, and I’m not really paying attention till I hear the name ‘Emery’ slip out of his mouth.

“Wait, what?” I ask. “What about Emery?”

He rolls his eyes at my inattentiveness, but backpedals enough for me to understand. “Apparently, yesterday, Bryce and his douchebag buddies cornered Toby and Drew after school, but Emery jumped in before they could hurt them. It was awesome…supposedly.”

I mull this over in my mind.

“Yeah, Emery’s a good guy.” I say to Gabe, my attention already elsewhere.

Gabe snorts. “You don’t have to tell me. The girls are all over him now. Sorry bro, you’ve been replaced.”

I glance at him, furrowing my eyebrows. “What?”

He grins. “Yeah. Now the girls are all asking me if I know Emery’s number and all that shit. Luke Adams is old news.”

He’s way too pleased about this.

I smirk. “I may be old news, but at least I had my time. Did you?”

The smile vanishes off of his face and I snort to myself.

“Didn’t think so.” I say, parking my car in the school parking lot. “Now, come on, get to class.”

He scowls at me, but gets out of the car and heads off. I roll my eyes after him and follow suit.

In first period History, I plop down in my usual seat next to Nate.

“Dude, it happened again.” I say.
“What did?” he asks.

“I had a really good dream and I can’t remember what it is.” I complain and he just snorts.

“Get over it, dude.”

“I can’t.” I nag. “It was too good of a dream.”

“How do you know it was a good dream if you can’t remember it?” he points out.

I shrug. “I don’t know. But I’m sure it was a good dream. 100%.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. Who am I to argue with you?”

The bell rings and Mrs. Lawrence shuffles her feet around and begins yet another PowerPoint presentation, dimming the lights. You know what that means? Nap time!

If someone were to ask me how I’m passing History with a B+, I would have absolutely no answer for them. I don’t even know what era we’re in right now. Nate somehow scrapes by with a C-, which is more understandable, but for some reason, I manage decent grades without ever paying attention. Except for Geometry. I always have to try in Geometry, which kills me. Still, I managed to get a B on my first quarter report card. I’m practically a straight-B student, not even kidding. I’ve got an A+ in Gym, though! Woot!

After History, I head to the dreaded Geometry. I swear, I really am trying to pay attention, but it’s so hard. Counting numbers has the exact same effect as counting sheep and it’s too early in the morning to be focused. Second period Geometry is definitely not a good idea.

Luckily, after second period comes Break, so I make my way to the cafeteria and grab today’s snack, which is some shitty granola bar and a bottle of Minute Maid lemonade. Then, as I do every day, I go to my locker, where I meet with Alana. She’s talking to Emery and Katy, her expression serious.

“Hey guys.” I say, as I walk over. Emery practically jumps out of his skin. I look at him, confusedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He replies quickly, the blush making its way up his neck. “You just scared me.”

“Oh, sorry.” I say, easily, and sit down, leaning against the lockers. The other three do the same.

“Where are Nate and Jess?” I ask.

Katy shrugs. “Haven’t seen them today.”

“Oh. Well, I have Science with Jess next, so I guess I’ll see her then.” I say, taking a bite out of the granola bar. I make a face. “Ugh, this sucks.”

Emery smiles, his dimple making an appearance. I can’t help but smile as well; his smile is contagious.

I open my bottle of lemonade and take a sip before holding it out in front of Alana.

“You want some?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. Usually, she doesn’t have to be offered; she’ll just take it. But her eyes are elsewhere; her eyebrows furrowed. She’s obviously thinking very hard about something. “Helloooo?” I wave my other hand—the one that’s not holding the lemonade—in front of her face. “Earth to Alana!”

Her eyes snap to mine. “Huh? Oh,” she says, seeing the lemonade. She reaches out and takes it, bringing the bottle to her lips.

I watch her as she passes the bottle back to me and resumes her thinking face.

“What’s got you so serious?” I ask.

“Huh?”

I roll my eyes. “Why are you so distracted?”

“I’m thinking!” she says, defensively.

“No shit, Alana.” I sigh, giving up on her. Instead I turn to Katy, who’s sharing an uneasy glance with Emery. “Um, guys, what the hell?”

Katy whips her head around to look at me. “Uh…what?”

I roll my eyes yet again. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Emery says, quickly.

“That’s reassuring.” I say, sarcastically.

Emery sighs. “It’s not important.”

“Fine.” I grumble eventually, and Emery chuckles at my very first-grader way of handling it.

“Do you always get what you want?” he asks, the smile—and dimple—still on his face.

I can’t help but grin. “Most of the time.”

He rolls his eyes. “And are you always like this when you don’t?”

I bob my head up and down. “Yep.”

He smirks. “It’s an unattractive color on you.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, really now? Is anything an unattractive color on me?”

“Arrogance.” Alana immediately spits.

“Who asked you?” I say rudely, turning to look at her. She just rolls her eyes and scowls at me, which in turn makes Emery and Katy chuckle. I grin to myself, pleased that I snapped them all out of that funk. I’m determined to find out what’s got them all so serious, but not now, because I have to head off to Science. I sit in my usual seat next to Jess and in front of Tyler Kent and immediately tell Jess about the weird scene I’d just come from in the hallway. She listens carefully and looks at me confusedly when I tell her how Alana was acting.

“She was totally spacey.” I say. “I had to repeat myself a couple times before she heard me.”

“Huh.” Jess says, an interested expression on her face. “That doesn’t really sound like Alana.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought!” I say, a little too eagerly, pleased that someone agrees with me. “Plus, Emery kept trying to get me to drop it. He really didn’t wanna talk about it.”

“Hmm.” Jess thinks about this, and then waves a hand, indifferently. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about it. I just wanna know.” I whine, and Jess rolls her eyes and whacks me on the shoulder. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a brat.” She replies, sharply.

I grin at her, and she tries to keep her stony face, but I catch her lips twitching and eventually she lets herself smile.

We sit through a boring Science class, and Ms. Forbes occasionally asks questions. I answer one and she blushes crimson and stutters a “Y-yes, Mr. Adams, t-that is correct” which further proves my theory that she has a crush on me. It makes Jess roll her eyes.

After Science, I head off to Spanish, where I see both Bryce and Emery. Bryce is seemingly very fascinated in a pencil he’s holding, while Emery is doodling something in his notebook.

“Hey.” I say to Emery.

SLAM.

He immediately slams his notebook shut, his head snapping up to look at me.

“Oh, uh, hey.” He says, awkwardly.

I raise my eyebrows at him, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “Uh, dude, what was all that about?” I say, gesturing to his notebook, which he’s holding very firmly in both hands now.

“Nothing.” He replies, quickly. “Just writing something.”

“Whatcha writing?” I ask, my eyebrows still up.
“Nothing important.” He says, casually slipping the notebook into his backpack and then moving the backpack closer to himself. “Just some things I have to get done later.”

“Uh…cool?” I say, a question in my voice.

He shrugs and I make my way over to my seat by Bryce. Admittedly, I’d rather be sitting by Emery than Bryce Phillips, but this is the seat I chose at the beginning of the year and Mr. Sanchez doesn’t like when we switch on him. He can barely remember our names as it is.

“Why are y’all being so sketchy today?” I ask Emery as the two of us walk towards the cafeteria after class.

“We’re not being sketchy!” he says, defensively.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Sure.”

He sighs. “There’s some shit going on; I’ll tell you about it when I can, okay? Just let it go.”

‘Letting it go’ is not the easiest thing in the world for me, but I grumble a response as we get into the lunch line.

We go to sit down at our usual table and see Nate, Jess, and Alana already seated, along with Katy. I grin to myself. I knew she would become part of our group. She and Emery were too close.

A little part of me still believes the two of them are secretly together. I know that there was this whole spiel about ‘Emery likes someone else’ or whatever, but they are way too close to be just friends.

“What are we talking about?” I ask as we sit down.

“Josie Guthrie.” Jess and Katy chant at the same time and then grin at each other.

I roll my eyes. “What rumor is she spreading this time?” I ask.

“Actually, this time the rumor is about her.” Alana says.

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Wait, who’s Josie Guthrie?” Emery asks.

Katy laughs. “Boy, you really are new.”

“Josie Guthrie is the school gossip.” Jess explains, briefly. “She knows everything about everyone and if there’s nothing exciting going on, she’ll make it up.”

“Which is why it’s so weird that this time, there’s news about her.” Nate adds. Emery nods in understanding and Alana continues in the story.

“Apparently, she got in trouble with Mr. Iverson, because he caught her hiding in the janitor’s closet so she could eavesdrop on students in the hallways.”

My jaw drops slightly open. “Are you serious? She spies on students in the hallways? That’s terrible!”

Emery chuckles. “That’s terrible journalism. If she wants to eavesdrop, she should plant bugs in the locker rooms!”

We all turn to stare at him.

“What?” he says, defensively. “Everyone knows that’s where all the juicy secrets come to light.”

My eyebrows flash upwards. I have to admit, he’s kind of right.

“You have a point.” I say, waving my fork at him. “That’s where I found out that Mike O’Reilly was sleeping with Ms. Hastings.”

Everyone stares at me.

“Who?” Emery asks.

“As in, Ms. Hastings, the receptionist?” Nate asks, his mouth open enough for me to see chewed up bits of his lunch. Gross.

“Um…who?” Emery repeats, but no one answers him.

“Is that why she left?” Alana asks me. I nod, chewing on a bite of chicken. Jess drops her fork.

“Was she fired?” Jess asks in a scandalized tone.

I snort. “No, no, if she were found out, Mike would’ve been expelled. She quit. Apparently, her husband found out.”

“Oh my God.” Katy exclaims, clapping a hand over her mouth.

I grin. “I know, right?”

Emery just gives up and continues eating his lunch. I turn to watch him. He has a bemused smile on his face from our conversation and his hair hangs slightly in his face, like it usually does. His silver eyes are alight and the dimple holds tight in his left cheek.

“Luke!”

My eyes snap up to Katy, who’s been calling my name. “Yeah?” I say, quickly. She just moves her eyes up, to look at Gabe, who’s standing over her, looking at me with a serious expression in his eyes.

“Gabe?” I ask, surprised. Usually, Gabe doesn’t want to be seen with me inside school. “What’s up?”

“Come with me.” He says quietly and begins to walk off. The rest of the group looks at me curiously, and I immediately get up and follow Gabe out of the cafeteria.

“Gabe, what’s going on?” I ask as I follow him down the hall. He shakes his head and begins walking faster. I speed up my pace to match him, and stop when he stops.

He stands in front of a janitor’s closet.

“Um, Gabe? What are we doing here?”

“I need your help.” He practically chokes out. Worried now, I open the janitor’s closet, and gasp when I see what—or rather, who—is inside.

Toby is tied to a chair with duct tape circling him, a strip across his mouth. His eyes are red and puffy and it’s obvious he’s been crying.

“Gabe, help me.” I say, immediately dropping to my knees and starting to rip off the duct tape.

“Okay, Toby, hold on.” Gabe says, gently, as he starts to slowly take off the tape from Toby’s mouth. Toby whimpers, but allows him to do so.

“Who did this?” I murmur, working on the tape that’s binding his hands together behind his back.

“B-Bryce.” Toby coughs, quietly.

“Luke.” Gabe says, warningly.

“I know, I know.” I cut in, before he can continue. “There.” I say, freeing Toby’s hands and now trying to get him loose from the chair with Gabe’s help.

Once we’ve completely freed him from the chair, Toby stands up, shivering slightly.

“T-thank you.” He mumbles.

“Of course.” Gabe says, almost indignantly, in a ‘you don’t even have to ask’ kind of way.

“Come on, let’s get you to the nurse.” I say, gently holding on to Toby’s upper arm. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he shakes his head.

“Why not?” Gabe asks.

“I don’t want to go to the nurse. I don’t want her to call my parents.” He says, quickly and quietly, giving us just enough information.

“Well, where do you wanna go?” Gabe asks. “Lunch?”

Toby glances at him, asking a question with his eyes that I can’t understand, but Gabe seems to.

“Sit with me at lunch.” Gabe says, firmly. “He can’t hurt you there.”

My heart completely goes out to the kid. I feel awful just for being part of that team! I mean, seriously? I know Bryce has beaten up kids before, but duct-taping someone to a chair?! That’s just vicious.

Gabe and I walk with Toby to the cafeteria and eyes turn to stare when we walk in. It’s dead-obvious that something happened to Toby and suddenly, everyone wants to know what. We simply shake our heads at the questions and Gabe nods at me to say ‘thanks’ and leads Toby to their table. I give Toby a squeeze on the shoulder and a comforting smile and then head back to my table, where my friends wait for me.

“What happened to Toby?” Alana asks.

I sigh. “Bryce Phillips duct-taped him to a chair. Tape across his mouth and everything.”

Emery’s fists clench. “They can’t do that.” He says, through gritted teeth. A few of us look at him, curiously, surprised at how mad he suddenly got.

“That’s not okay.” Katy agrees, shaking her head, sadly.

“Why isn’t Toby at the nurse?” Jess asks.

“He didn’t want his parents finding out.” I reply.

Nate just shakes his head, glancing over at Toby. I do the same, and see that Drew has joined the table and is staring at Toby. I want to say I see tears in his eyes, but I’m not completely sure.

“Who’s that?” Katy asks, also looking over at Toby and seeing Drew.

“That’s Drew.” I reply. “That’s his…uh…”

“Boyfriend.” Emery finishes for me, firmly.

“Yeah.” I mumble, lamely.

“Oh my God, is he crying?” Jess asks, a hand flying to her mouth in shock. Guess I wasn’t imagining it after all.

“Yeah, I think he is.” Nate says, tilting his head to get a better look.

“That’s horrible.” Jess says, miserably. “The poor kid.”

“How has that Bryce guy not been expelled yet?” Emery says, his teeth still clenched and his words still coming out in a low voice.

“He’s the captain of the basketball team.” Alana spits. “He’s won the school too many games.”

“He’s not even that good.” Jess exclaims, angrily. “Luke is the one who wins the games.”

“How would you know? You’re never at the games.” I say, almost laughing. I know it’s not the right time for all that, but since when does Jess know so much about the basketball team?

“I used to go.” She reminds me, her cheeks turning pink. Oh right, when she was dating Chase Jackson. Do you have to be dating someone in order to go to their games? Is that, like, a rule in high school sports or something?

The rest of lunch is eaten in an awkward silence. No one has any more to say on the topic of Toby, but no one wants to be the person who weirdly changes the subject to something else.

After the first lunch bell rings, Emery and I head off to English Lit. We make small talk as we walk down the hallway, asking each other if we’ve done the homework and commenting on how obviously lonely Miss Nichols is and laughing about how she almost cries whenever we read parts of Romeo & Juliet aloud.

I tell him about how frustrated I still am from the morning because I can’t remember what my good dream was about.

He laughs. “You know it was good, but you can’t remember what it was about?”

“Yeah!” I reply. “It’s extremely infuriating. Does that ever happen to you?”

He shakes his head. “I always