Page 63 of Beautifully Broken
The classes are the ones you’d expect in any high school: English, Math, Science, History, Gym, and Health.
My electives include Social Sciences and Music.
Cali is there to help me navigate all the cliques in school.
Identifying who to avoid and what gossip is happening as we walk the halls between classes.
Finally, it’s time for lunch and I am dreading the new girl looks I’ll receive when I walk in.
“Welcome to lunch, otherwise known as hell. Those two tables in the center by the windows are for the football players and cheerleaders; each sport has its own table but some overlap. Then you have the band geeks, nerds, stoners, and goths.” she points around as she speaks, and I try to keep up.
“Try to integrate wherever. I advise against the cheerleaders or the jocks unless they invite you.” she says as I look around.
I see the guys from the office this morning sitting at the table she said was where the football players hung out. “Who is he?” I ask, pointing out the dark-haired guy who caught my attention.
“That’s Jax. He’s a junior and our quarterback. He is nice for a jock, but all the cheerleaders want him and are territorial even though he has declined all of them. They will cut a bitch if she looks at him twice.”
Nodding, I take in the information she shares. “Where do you normally sit?”
“Typically, I grab my lunch and head to the main office. I help the headmaster over lunch and sometimes after school.” Cali looks down, playing with the edge of her shirt as she talks.
It almost seems like she’s nervous or doesn’t want to talk about it.
Cali goes over and grabs her food before she takes off while I look around for a table.
“Hey, new girl, blondie, come over here so we can get to know you.” I look around to see who is talking. Seeing the football guys all looking at me and the guy, Jax, motioning me over to an empty seat by him. I walk over hesitantly and set down my stuff.
“Nova.” I reply and give a nod to the table.
“Hey Nova, I’m Jax. Welcome to Smithson. Who did you have to piss off to end up here?”
I slowly sit down as he speaks, but I don’t look up. “My stepfather knows the headmaster, so I wasn’t given a choice.”
“Sorry then for having to be related to someone who is friends with that dickhead.” Jax says. I’m guessing he doesn’t like the headmaster.
I sit and pick at the Caesar salad and grilled chicken sandwich I grabbed for lunch while the rest of the team ask random questions and talk about the football season. Both items are better made than I expected for a school lunch.
Jax turns to me after a couple of minutes.
“Well, pretty girl, what class do you have next?” I take out my schedule and glance at the list of classes.
“Um, next it says Social Science in room 181,” I say and shrug.
I look up and meet his eyes. His gorgeous green eyes lock onto me — intense and wild, like a forest with layers of green that pulls you in and don’t let go.
They’re impossible to ignore, especially set in a face that looks like it was carved by the gods — sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and that effortless confidence only someone like him could have.
He looks like he was born to be under game lights.
“Well, you’re in luck because I also have that class. It’s supposed to be focused on crime and forensics.”
He walks with me to class, our shoulders brushing as we go, and sits next to me at the table.
I’m sure I’m about to be punked; this impossibly handsome guy is far too attractive to genuinely want to spend time with me.
As the teacher drones through roll call, her voice a monotonous hum, I doodle in my notebook, stealing glances at Jax.
“Nova Lilith Samsara?” the teacher calls and sighing I raise my hand. What the fuck? Why did mom put my full name?
“Jaxson Stephens?” I see Jax raise his hand and then he looks at me.
“Lilith? Like the mother of demons?” he whispers .
I nod, a silent acknowledgement of what had been said.
“Maybe,” I mutter with an eye roll, “my mom insisted on names that conveyed female strength.” I watch him turn this information over in his mind, his brow furrowed, as the teacher drones on about the class’s goals.
“Alright everyone,” she announces, assigning some book work for us to start on in pairs, “let’s get started! ”
Jax and I work together to complete the assignment. As we finish up, I pull out my schedule and put it on the table. I need to figure out my next class and where to go, but Jax grabs it before I can look at it.
“You have Van in two classes. He’s in your Science and History class. I’ll tell him to keep an eye on you and help you out.” He says as he continues to look over my schedule like he is trying to memorize it.
“Van?” I ask, not remembering anyone with that name, but I wasn’t paying attention to the roll calls in my earlier classes.
“Donovan Haywood. He and I are good friends. He isn’t on the football team, but he’s a genius with computers.” Jax tells me, as if this is some kind of crucial information. I nod while packing my stuff into my bag and getting ready to leave.
“Well, thanks for the help here. I need my schedule back so I can see where to go next.” I put my hand out.
Jax hands it over and takes my hand. “I’ll walk you to class, little demon.”
“Little demon? Is that going to become a thing? And what are you, a knight protecting the damsel? I can get there on my own.”
“No, little demon,” he flashes me a smirk, “I’m going to walk you to class so the other guys in this school know to stay away from you so I can make you mine.”
I look at him like he just started speaking another language. Then I laugh. “Right. Like you’re seriously interested in me. Let me guess, there’s some bet going around, probably cooked up in the locker room with the rest of the football team, right?”
He drapes his arm over my shoulders with that simple confidence of his and steers me down the hall. “Come on, I don’t waste my time with stupid games. If the team’s up to something, they know to keep it far from me. I’ve got way more interesting things to pay attention to... like you. ”
I decide to just go to class and drop it for now, hoping to see Cali in my next class. As Jax leaves me at the door of the classroom with a “see you soon”, I find Cali at a desk and sit next to her. She has an ice pack on her thigh and a bandage on her forearm.
“What happened?” I ask, looking at her arm and thigh.
“Sorry, I am a klutz and banged my thigh on the headmaster’s desk trying to put away some things and when I went to catch myself, I scratched my arm on the letter opener he had on the desk,” she whispers, looking down.
Having just met her, I nod and ask if she needs any pain meds. The story sounds odd, but then again, I don’t know what help she gives in the office at lunch. We settle in with our notebooks open for class and soon enough class is over.