Anvaila Emerson, a vibrant party lover, juggles her crush on Kevin Diaz, the basketball team captain, and the return of mysterious Austin Smith to senior year. Caught in a high school drama, Anvaila faces the complexities of emotions, friendships, a...
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Buried in my homework on the bleachers post-lunch — a rare twist, considering my sacred pre-noon free period — I grumbled under my breath. Mrs. Carson jetting off to an interschool geography competition meant she hijacked our AP class, shifting everything around. Sierra had been swept into some emergency dance team meeting, leaving me alone with the grand task of mapping rivers of the USA. And just as I was figuring out where the St. Lawrence River actually flows, wham — a soccer ball landed squarely on my leg.
"Ouch! Who throws a ball at someone silently studying?" I growled, scanning the field for the culprit.
'Vinny dear, it's a soccer field. People kick balls here, not study,' my inner voice snarked.
Just as I readied my comeback, bam — a second hit, this time right on my head. That hurt like a BITCH.
"Are you KIDDING me? Can't you see there's a fully-grown girl here doing her homework in peace?!" I hollered, standing up, my head spinning.
"Oi, settle down, love. It wasn’t thrown, it was kicked! And it's a soccer field, not a library. My bad, though," said a familiar voice, thick with an Australian drawl.
My heart stopped. My eyes followed the shadow looming over me and there, standing a few steps away, was the last person I wanted to see today: Austin.
"G'day, hope you're not too banged up," he continued, hands on hips, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn’t mean to knock ya, I swear."
I stood there, gawking like a fish, my brain screaming for me to say something, but no words came out. 'You’re staring,’ my inner voice piped up. 'SHUT UP,' I mentally snapped back.
“Sorry?” Austin looked confused, scratching the back of his head.
Great. Had I said that out loud? Again?
"I—I’m fine!" I managed to spit out, scrambling to gather my stuff and escape before my heart exploded. But of course, my clumsiness had other plans. Tripping on my own leg, I was about to face-plant when Austin grabbed my wrist.
