Our Broken Pasts [Editing] | #Wattys2017

Chapter One (Edited)

Hailey

FGL crooned in my ears as my eyes scanned across the words printed on the page. This was my escape – reading and listening to music. It let me get lost in a world that wasn't my own, one that I could imagine was mine for a moment. Like always, though, that pretending game didn't last very long. "Hey! Hails!" Bess Marchford, my best friend, nudged my foot with the toe of her black-and-white Converses. I tugged an earbud out of my ear, right in the middle of the chorus.

"What?" I asked, only a little annoyed. By now, I was used to Bess' interruptions. Four years with someone did that to you.

"God, you're so far away once you get into your little world. I texted you twice!"

"And?"

"Guess what?" Bess' voice rose in excitement.

"What?" I asked, for the second time.

"Will Williams is in our American History class!"

"Is that all?"

Bess' voice turned drop-dead serious as she sat next to me. "Is that all? How can you even say that, Hails? The epitome of male perfection is going to be in class, beside us, all year long and you're not even a little excited?"

The epitome in question walked by us at that exact moment. Bess flushed bright pink. His eyes scanned over to us for a moment, but a wink and a smirk later, his attention was focused elsewhere. To say he was perfect certainly wasn't an exaggeration on Bess' part. Everyone in Walter Creek knew about Will Williams. As if the alliteration of his first and last names wasn't enough to keep him in your head, his drop-dead gorgeous looks and broody, bad boy attitude would ensure that you never forgot the rumours or that one, quick glance you got of him in the halls on a Tuesday morning. Even I, who didn't pay much mind to any guy who wasn't a fictional character, had to admit it gave me a little thrill to catch a small glance of him. Those broad shoulders, the tight black t-shirts that molded his biceps, that unruly, sexy hair, the jeans that hugged him just right... No, you didn't forget Will Williams easily.

Compared to my own laid-back attitude about him and guys in general, Bess was obsessed. She was labelled (by some) as a rather outrageous flirt who would bang anything with a heartbeat. But she wasn't really like that. She just wanted her prince to come along like they did in her romance novels that she and I shared an affinity for. I'd had my own fair share of romantic encounters, and just one was enough to turn me off of the gender forever. I didn't want to get close to another guy, not again. Not for a while, at least. But that didn't stop me from dreaming.

In answer to Bess' "Are you excited?" I just shrugged.

Her mouth dropped open. "That's it. We cannot be best friends anymore. You've officially lost your mind."

I laughed out loud at her proclamation. "Bessie, come on. You know he'll never consider us. And besides, wouldn't you rather date a nice guy who'll bring you flowers and chocolates and remember the important things, rather than someone who's so full of himself he barely notices you over the size of his own ego?"

She thought for a moment. "All the nice guys aren't eye candy, though."

I shook my head. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

We stood and I gathered everything I needed from my locker. The week before school started, we had gotten our locker assignments and timetables. Will Williams never showed up to orientation days, so it made sense that I had no idea he'd be in our class until Bess told me.

"So I'm thinking next summer I'll take English and Calculus, so I don't have to worry about it as much next-"

"Shoot!" I exclaimed, cutting Bess off.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"I forgot my pens!"

Her eyes were wide. "Here, I'll take your books. Hurry and get them before class starts."

It may seem trivial, but pens are important. Especially these ones. They're all different colours, felt-tipped, don't bleed through the page, and are easy to write with, so they come in handy with long notes. I handed my stuff off to Bess and rushed back down the hall, avoiding a couple close crashes before knocking into a wall of solid muscle. The hit didn't knock me off balance, just startled me. "Watch it," came a sharp voice.

"Why don't you?" I shot back as I jerked my head up to look into the brightest, most brilliant blue eyes I'd ever seen. A heartbeat later, I managed to put the face to a name.

Shit. Just shit.

I had bumped into Will Williams. And smarted off at him.

"You want to say that again, pipsqueak?" he drawled, showing off white teeth and one very sexy smirk.

"What, you didn't hear me the first time?" I honestly did not know where all the bravado was coming from. It could have been because Will reminded me of Cory, my older brother, who could be really annoying with his holier-than-thou attitude and condescending comments.

"Nah, I heard you, pipsqueak. I just didn't figure you had a death wish."

A death wish? Really?

I snorted. He smirked. Those blue eyes held a steady gaze to mine, seeming to reach in and see right to the depths of my soul. "Seriously, pipsqueak, watch it. I may not forgive and forget as easily next time."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?"

I just couldn't keep my mouth shut, could I?

"With me, there always is." And with that, he winked and walked away. His posture didn't change from when I saw in him in the hall earlier to now. It was as if nothing had happened.

My racing heart, however, said otherwise. I was sure it would be on overdrive for days, reliving his woodsy, laundry detergent and soap smell, those taut muscles that had bumped against me, and those blue, blue eyes that held so many secrets, held so much inside.

I certainly wasn't going to be forgetting Will Williams anytime soon. And if the way he glanced back at me as he rounded the corner of the hall was any indication, he wouldn't forget me for a while, either.

Will

I hadn't known that Hailey Martin had such a strong voice. When she was talking to teachers, it was pretty authoritative, but nothing like the unwavering confidence that was in it when she talked back to me this morning. I'm not gonna lie, I'm not used to girls who can get through a conversation without stuttering in front of me. Martin had been smooth. Calm, cool, collected.

When she walked into my first-period American History class, my lips curved up. Her pretty green eyes that had seemed to hold so many secrets, so much emotion, darted to mine before she took her seat in front of me. In a small school, everyone knows everyone. Bess and I had known each other from preschool on. Hailey was different. She had transferred a month into ninth grade and had been here since. No one knew where she came from. Hell, I barely knew she existed until the pipsqueak bumped into me this morning, then dared to blame me for it.

Now, I had to wonder where she came from. Her thick skin and attitude was mesmerizing.

Mrs. Randall, an older lady who I'd always liked, welcomed us and handed out the course outline before starting to take attendance. I didn't listen until she got to the M's. "Hailey Martin?"

"Here." Ah, there was that same strong voice that had taunted me – and turned me on – not ten minutes ago.

A minute later, she turned to look back at me as my name was called. "Here," I answered, looking straight into her eyes. She snapped her head back around, picked up a funky-looking pen, and started doodling in her notebook.

I didn't know why, but I found myself watching her for the rest of the class.

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