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JAXON

The hallways are crowded, students bumping into one another as they hurry to their classes. Though my class is on the other side of the building, I’m in no rush, taking my time while also speaking to a few of my friends.

A friend of mine, Calvin, is leaning against his locker, his left foot resting against the wall when he gets my attention. I walk over and clap hands with him, and we talk about a bunch of nothing for a few seconds.

“Hey,” Calvin says, lifting his chin in the direction behind me. “Check it. Looks like a new kid.”

I follow his gaze, and it’s like…my world stops. Standing near the office with wide eyes framed by pale cheeks is one of the most stunning kids I’ve ever seen in my life.

He’s dark and broody, with his dark hair, large brown eyes, and a slight sneer twisting his lips, but I can see through that. He’s nervous. Hell, being the new kid is nerve-wracking.

Not like I’d know. I grew up here, and I know most of the kids in my class. But I remember the first day of each school year, that flutter of nerves in my belly, hoping I’d still have friends and I’d fit in with anyone new I met.

I’m sure being new to an entire school is like that, times ten.

“I’ll catch you later,” I tell Calvin and head in the kid’s direction.

Before I reach him, one of the assholes of the school, Todd, slaps the new kid’s notebooks from his hands, laughing loudly when the kid fumbles to catch them before they hit the floor.

I step in front of Todd, looking down at him. Even though I’m only a freshman, I tower over most of the students in my grade. “Pick those up, or I’m gonna tell your dad.” Todd’s father is the gym teacher and doesn’t tolerate bullying.

“Don’t be a fucking snitch, man,” Todd says but grabs the books and stuffs them into the kid’s hands. “Happy?”

I shrug, and Todd walks away, glaring over his shoulder at me. I give him a little wave, and his face turns beet red before he storms down the hall.

“You didn’t need to do that,” the kid says in a hard voice. “Now he’ll be all over me through the rest of high school.”

“Nah,” I say. “Todd is really a punk bitch wrapped under all his charm.” The kid looks up at me, and I smile, holding out my hand. He hesitantly takes it, and I pull him to his feet. “I’m Jaxon. What’s your name?”

“Wesley.”

“Let me see your schedule, Wesley. I can help you to your next class.”