The morning sun glares into my eyes from the glass windshield, creating swimming pools of sunlight on my car and dousing me in warmth. Pulling into the school, I take a deep breath and finally step out into the crowd of students, all braving through another day.
                          
Anxiously swirling my cup of coffee in my hand, I push my way through the flow of people, running up to the steps to where several of the jocks stand. They cheer as I get closer, their eyes looking anywhere except my face as I shoot a look of venom in their direction. 
                          
The boys elbow themselves as I pass them, and I see a freshman show his friend an image on his phone, undoubtedly the picture of Clay and I. 
                          
"Why are you so touchy, baby? Did Jensen leave you hanging?" Montgomery de la Cruz jeers as he blows kisses in my direction, hitting his friends as I walk past him.
                          
"Leave her alone, Monty," Zach Dempsey states loudly, glaring superficially in his direction and flashing a helpful smile at me. I ignore it and roll my eyes, sick of the fake hero act. 
                          
Monty also ignores him, bouncing on his heels excitedly. He elbows another boy that I've never seen before, who smiles coyly and nudges him back. The boy is handsome and fit, but disappears among the crowd of guys as Bryce Walker's wide shoulders block my vision. 
                          
"Been there, dude, I swear she's got the best body in the whole school. Man, what I wouldn't give to tap that after she teased me last time," he catches my eye and looks me up and down with the hunger in his eyes that I know far too well. 
                          
I start to walk away and crack my neck menacingly, confident enough to not hide my emotions but still too scared to say something in response. 
                          
"I'd gladly go there again if Jensen can't satisfy her, and I can guess he isn't. A girl like her needs a real man to really get her going," Bryce smiles like a child at a candy store, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall. 
                          
He clearly wants a reaction from me, and I have to use every inch of moral strength in my body to not turn around and slap him in front of the whole school. Jeff always told me not to let boys bother me, and don't give them any power over you by reacting. I've lived by that anytime that the cluster of boys let their eyes wander, and stay silent as loud whispers rise from the group. 
                          
The boy I've never seen before suddenly slides in front of me and I jump, my eyes narrowing at him in an unmasked suspicion.
                          
He's frustratingly gorgeous, with soft straw-colored hair and an athletic body. Tall and fit, he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he leans across the locker, and his collarbones jut out of his white undershirt. His jawline carves his face in a way that I know all the girls will talk about for the next month, leading up to the shining, swirling mix of green and blue in his eyes. To be fair, if I had met him before that night with Clay, I would have been all over him.
                          
Fuck, where's Clay? The thought flies into my head as I lock eye contact with the boy, and it feels like I'm staring into the eyes of Clay instead. 
                          
I look over the boy's shoulder to find him, but he moves so my vision is blocked by his blue letterman jacket. 
                          
"So, what's a pretty girl like you doing talking to these dumbasses?" He asks, moving his head in the direction of the group of baseball boys, who pretend they can't see us. 
                          
His voice is deep, and a pang of guilt strikes me for finding him so attractive with the pressing issue of finding Clay looming over me.
                          
"I'm not talking to them, first of all, and why do you care?" I cross my arms in a defiant response. Most girls would fawn over his seemingly casual manner, but my years of having guys as friends tell me that this causal act is completely rehearsed.