Page 8 of Enemy Crush
“Ha, ha,” I said, flashing a sarcastic smile. I knew he was teasing me about how much time I’d spent on the car over summer.
“Miller will be the one having the last laugh one day,” Elise said, coming to my defense, But her attention suddenly diverted and she moved away from me. “Hey, hi, can I help you?”
“Um, hi, um, I think this is my locker?”
I spun around to see Quinn Devereaux pointing at a locker further along from us—one extremely close to mine.
Elise stepped forward and cast a glance at the sheet of paper Quinn was holding. “Two forty three. Are you new here?”
As that was happening, my heart thumped and my mind raced at a million miles an hour because Locker 243, the one beneath mine, belonged to Maisie Trundler and had for the past three years.
And that’s what I blurted out, sharper than was necessary. “Can’t be. That’s Maisie’s locker.” And I shifted along, protectively standing in front of it.
“You didn’t hear?” Elise, who’d been nice a few minutes ago, scowled at me, making it clear she didn’t appreciate my tone. “Her family moved to Costa Rica.”
It was news to me, though to be fair, I’d hardly spoken to Maisie. She carried her books in a hippie boho bag, a colorful one with beads and tassels on it and rarely used her locker. Which had made her the ideal locker partner.
Now I was breaking into a cold sweat at the thought of Quinn Devereaux using that locker. It was one thing to be neighbors in the same street, but locker neighbors?
Elise unapologetically shoved me to the side, giving Quinn full access to the locker. “I’m Elise Nguyen,” she said, all smiles like she was part of the welcoming committee, which she probably was. Elise was an honors student who involved herself in everything. “And this is Brayden Sims, and,”—she paused and eyeballed me with a disingenuous smile—”your unfortunate locker buddy is Miller Trask.” Elise tilted her head and grinned at Quinn. “Just ignore him.”
Quinn Devereaux did just that. She didn’t glance at me for even a microsecond. “Hi, I’m Quinn,” she said in a quiet voice, eyes focused on her locker door.
“Hey, is anyone showing you around? I can, if you like. Wow, I love your shoes.” Elise completely dominated, not waiting for Quinn to reply. She helped her with her combination, and as I slunk away—the only viable option—Elise was offering to chaperone her for the rest of the day.
And just like that, senior year got a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter 3
QUINN
I’d lived in the Brizendine Prep bubble for so long that I had no idea how to blend in and mingle with new kids. I’d been friends with Celeste and Naomi since we were eight years old and meeting new people was daunting.
Elise Nguyen spoke so quickly and non-stop that I couldn’t figure out whether she was someone I wanted to hang out with. Or maybe it was because I couldn’t concentrate. You see, finding out my locker was beneath Miller Trask’s had thrown my world off kilter.
My mother had concocted a story as to why I was now attending the public high school. I would say that my parents had recently divorced and if pressed for more details, would explain how traveling to Brizendine Prep, way over on the other side of Pine Ridge required a lot of time away from home. I doubted that anyone would care, but Mom was insistent I keep to the script and under no circumstances was I to mention our dire financial situation. In fact, she preferred that I keep to myself. Nobody could know that the Devereauxs were broke.
Which is why, not even an hour ago, I’d sauntered to the bus stop, clutching my tote bag, nervous, tentative, embarrassed that I had to catch the bus, but nonetheless dressed in a designer outfit, a cute pale pink top with a short pleated skirt and white sneakers. So, while I didn’t own a car at this moment, I didn’t have to dress as if I didn’t. And Mom had insisted that, as aDevereaux, I should wear my hair up and put on my usual face of makeup; we may be poor, but class was priceless.
Of course I’d half expected to run into Miller Trask at some point, but not at the bus stop because I’d seen—or rather heard—him ride a motorbike and presumed he rode it to school. And I hadn’t realized that his younger brother was in high school. Like, he looked like he should be in sixth grade. I had slowed my walking to almost a crawl because I didn’t want to interact with either of the Trask boys, or anyone for that matter.
Mom had specifically instructed that I keep away from them way back when they first moved to the neighborhood. The Trasks were trashy, she said, bad neighbors who brought down the level of our street with their messy yard, big dog and noisy motorbike roaring down the lane.
Yet, here I was, now standing in front of Miller and the locker we apparently shared, and feeling a tad out of place with my pristine white sneakers and my dangling rose quartz earrings, while he wore a faded t-shirt and dirty shoes.
Elise studied my class timetable, letting out a yelp of delight to find we had the same AP English and Chemistry classes. Mrs. Shelton was apparently an awesome teacher, but Mr. Lennox could be strict. I should avoid the cafeteria’s pizza at all costs unless I liked the taste of cardboard. And she was in the photography and dance fit clubs if I wanted to join either of those.
I didn’t want to reject her kindness because anyone who had daisy and donut nail art had to be a fun person. And her constant chatter, though initially overwhelming, was growing on me. Plus, she wasn’t nosey and didn’t ask me a bunch of questions. But Mom’s warning remained steadfast in my head—the danger of getting too close to people. Hiding the Devereaux secret was of utmost importance. This hurt my heart because the idea of not enjoying or participating in my senior year was devastating.I’d always loved school and Brizendine Prep had been my home away from home, a sanctuary so to speak. Especially in the last year when Mom and Dad’s incessant fighting reached breaking point and their tolerance of one another expired. Being at home in those days had been hard, so I’d spent long hours at school doing homework, study, sports and clubs.
And in the few days since I’d come back from the city, I knew this new reality wasn’t going to be easy. Mom’s anger was still fresh, her resentment raw, and her blood pressure was probably sky-high. Abiding by her wishes to keep a low profile was my only choice. I’d keep to myself and focus on my studies and college applications.
“Dance Fit’s not really my thing,” I said, though the words were heavy in my chest. I loved to dance, and along with Celeste, Naomi, Lara and Freya, we'd had a social media account where we made videos and uploaded them all the time. I wondered if they’d be making videos without me now.
Elise wasn’t fazed. “Photography, maybe?”
“Nah,” I said, this time feigning disinterest, “art’s not my thing.”
“Well, there’s a huge range of...”
