The Problems With Empathy

Chapter 2 - Blake

The leather seat of my Jeep was hot under my sweats and the sun beat down on me through the windshield as I rounded the corner on Pike Street. I raked my hand through my blond hair, a tic I had developed when I felt overwhelmed or nervous. A radio station blasted some song about regretting late nights and I let myself imagine I was taking the familiar route to Milton Prep. As I drove into the lot, I turned off my stereo and snapped myself back to reality. I wasn't at Milton anymore. I wasn't in Massachusetts. I wasn't with my girlfriend - sorry, exgirlfriend - Olivia. Instead, I was at Stratford High. Instead, I was in South California. Instead, I was lonely. Because my Grandpa was getting old, my parents decided to move across the country to be with him. Was I bitter? Of course not! Yes, my parents basically fucked over my dreams of being in the NHL and yes, I had to leave my entire life behind and yes, my girlfriend broke up with me because "long distance would be too hard", but no! I wasn't bitter at all! I pulled into a parking space and got out of my car, slamming my door behind me. I exhaled roughly as I stared at the building in front of me and at the students flocking in like sheep. 

I slung my backpack over my shoulders and reluctantly made my way to the entrance. I made a beeline for the front desk where a petite woman with a round face and kind eyes helped me get my schedule. It took a while and I missed the first bell, but eventually we pulled it up.

"This is all just... swell, but I don't know where anything is," I commented.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "I'll get right on that!" She picked up a walk-talky, which I thought was a bit overkill, and started muttering something about a student guide. Soon enough, a girl with long brown hair, Nike dunks, tight leggings, and a loose cropped sweatshirt that I remembered Olivia calling a "Scuba" strolled in. 

"Oh, hi! You must be the student I'm showing around!" She turned to the woman behind the desk and said, "Thanks, Ms Woodshire. I'll take it from here." She turned around and walked out of the office, her hips swaying hypnotically. She turned around and grinned, beckoning me to follow her. I eagerly jogged to catch up.

"Blake, right?" She asked. When I nodded, she said, "I'm Taylor. You're cute. What sport do you play?"

I stumbled over my words for a moment. She was quite forward. "Uh, hi Taylor. Thanks, I play hockey."

She stopped in her tracks, her sneakers skidding in the hallway. She slowly turned to me and exclaimed, "Oh. My. God!"

"What?" I asked, arching a brow in curiosity.

"It's just..." She peered up at me through long eyelashes. I was a good foot taller than her and had to slouch slightly to be more at eye level. She bit her bottom lip and I felt my stomach do a backflip. "I kinda have a think for hockey guys..."

I smirked. "Really? I bet there are plenty here."

"Well, sure. But most of them are in college..."

I laughed. "That's a real bummer."

She parted her lips. "Good thing I have you now! Anyway, your class is down the hall to the right. I'll meet you here after the bell, K?" Before I had a chance to respond, she was off in the other direction. I smirked to myself. Maybe I would be over Olivia faster than I thought.