Not the Golden Girl

Chapter 1: New Kid

Beep Beep Beep
I rolled over to slap my hand over my buzzing phone, the covers tangling tightly around my exposed legs. My room was still cool from the night air pouring through my open window, but already the rising sun was increasing the temperature outside. By the time I got into my car to pick up Char and go to school, it would be hot enough for me to sweat. Fantastic, I thought, just another perk of living in Arizona.

Struggling out of bed, I grabbed my desk chair and made my way to the very small bathroom in the hallway. Jamming my chair beneath the door knob to lock the door, I shimmied out of my oversized T-shirt and turned the shower knobs as far as they would go towards the hot side. Stepping in, I basked in the luke-warm water, knowing soon enough it would be icy cold. My father never was very good about paying the bills or making sure necessary repairs happened, thus the piss poor state of the water boiler. I quickly went about my routine, shampooing and conditioning with my coconut scented products, I finished by shaving. Stepping out of the shower, I rolled my hair into the towel and moisturized with my unfairly expensive sandalwood cream. It was one of my only frivolous expenditures, but I loved the scent and though I may come from trash, I refused to smell like it. I combed through my chest length chocolate hair, the damp strands sticking to my face. My blue eyes almost glowed under the poor lighting, and my summer tan only added to the affect. My eyes were easily my favorite feature, and the one thing I had in common with my deceased mom. I never really knew her, she died before I was even three years old, but in photos her blue eyes popped the same way mine did. Unfortunately, my dark hair and fair skin came from my father, a drunk too consumed by his unfulfilling life to look anywhere but the bottom of a bottle for answers.

Sighing, I grabbed my chair and went back into my room. I got dressed quickly having laid my outfit out the night before. The Arizona heat demanded light clothing, and I was all too happy to oblige as I was a naturally warm person and detested heavy clothing. Cut off jean shorts that were once my moms, a white halter top that Char gave me for my birthday last year, and white low-rise converse that weren't really white anymore made up my outfit. I clasped the dainty silver necklace with a tiny diamond at the base of my throat around my neck. I had thought about pawning it hundreds of times since I got it, but could never get up the nerve to do it. She left me the necklace and a note to be given to me on my sixteenth birthday, which her estate manager had followed through on. Her own parents had died before I was born, when she was only twenty two. They left her all their assets, which was no small sum, and she subsequently left them to be given to me upon my eighteenth birthday. She set up the account and everything after she was diagnosed with stage four non-Hodgkin lymphoma. At the time of her diagnosis, she hadn't seen my father since the night I was conceived. Sometimes I wish she would have just left me on the steps of a church or something, rather than giving me to my father. Maybe I would've been able to avoid him and his drunk buddies or the dangers of living in our area. But I guess I'm lucky to be here, because I never would have meet Charlotte otherwise.

I quickly applied lip balm and mascara to my already long lashes, grabbed my car keys and backpack, and left my decrepit little home, locking the door behind me. My lips curled into a smile as I looked at my baby, my royal blue 1969 Ford Mustang. It took four years savings from working at an upscale restaurant in Tempe, and pure luck that one of my best friends, Dean Pichard, works at an auto body shop and thought of me first when the seller brought it in. I didn't have much car knowledge, but I loved the classics and spent more than a little time sitting in the shop's garage hanging out with Dean and the boys while they worked on cars. I turned the key and enjoyed the rumble that vibrated through the car, the leather seats supple from its age. I reversed out of the little shed the boys and I built after I got the car, my fear of losing my baby making me extra vigilant. The drive to Char's house was about 20 minutes towards school, and towards the much nicer area of town. Sad little homes turned into apartment complexes and finally, a private drive. I waved at Martin, the guard in the gate house, as he opened the gates for me. I admired the immaculate houses and yards as I drove down the road, pulling into the driveway of a light yellow home. The big house looked well taken care of, and as cheerful as the girl who lived in it. Char bounded out of her house, yelling goodbye to her parents and then excitedly walking towards my car. Her teal summer dress swirled around her legs and her bright blonde hair shined under the sun. She was absolutely gorgeous in an angelic, sweet way. Blonde wavy hair the same length as mine, light green eyes, and a willowy figure. My curves were more pronounced, the hourglass shape toned from playing sports. With my bright blue eyes and long dark hair, I drew as many eyes as Char, but neither of us had much experience. Charlotte was waiting for her Prince Charming, and I didn't have the time or patience to be with guys beyond the friendly sense.
Char's squeak broke my out of my thoughts.
"Can you believe it?? We're seniors, James!!" She practically shouted after she'd gotten into her seat and pulled me into a big hug. I smiled at her enthusiasm.
"Pretty wild, right? Feels like it wasn't too long ago that we met in kindergarten."
"I can still remember that day, you shoved Garrett Willis right into the cubbies after he knocked down my block tower." She laughed, the sound bright and soft, "You were so protective, even then."
I shrugged slightly, "I hate a bully, and Garrett was- and still is- a fucking dick."
Her smile widens, "You're only saying that because he told his friends you gave him a blow job last year."
I made a left turn when the light turned green, "No, I'm saying that because he's a douche, forever and always. Plus, no one even believed him."
"That's only because you don't do anything with anyone, and everyone knows it."
I pretend to glare at her before putting my eyes back on the road, "Ironic statement coming from you, Little Miss Pure and Innocent."
She giggles, "Very true. But I'm waiting for the right guy, you're waiting for guys to go away."
I smirk. She does have a point, I can't be bothered to try to find my perfect guy. But I am invested in her pursuit of romance, few people deserve Char, and I'll be damned if I let some high school fuckboy play games with her.

"Yeah, yeah," I murmur as I pull into the school parking lot, taking my usual spot by the senior entrance. These spots are reserved for teachers, but I've spent enough time volunteering with clubs after school, tutoring students, and cleaning classrooms during the summer for some extra cash that no one says anything about it. As I opened my car door and stepped out, I made eye contact with Dean and sent him a smile. He and I had been friends since middle school, back when he was a pudgy short kid, and I was flat as a stick. Now, he was 6'2" with a body chiseled by God, and I was sporting D-cups. Our bodies may have changed, but how comfortable we were with each other hadn't, and I was the unofficial sixth member to his little guy group. Char jogged over to him and the boys, their expressions brightening at her arrival. There was Mac, a beefy hunk of man who had sustained possibly one too many concussions playing football, Trevor, a nationally ranked swimmer with a lean build and a eternally optimistic outlook, Preston, a 6'6" point guard who had all the ladies swooning with his James Dean looks and flirty attitude, Mitch, a quiet genius with a dry humor that always got me into trouble for laughing in class, and finally, Dean. The leader of their little group and one of the best people I'd ever met. The group of us couldn't be more different, but we all grew up within a block of each other and by middle school were thick as thieves.
When I reached them Preston immediately pulled me under his arm for a side hug, and I was promptly passed around the group. They gave Charlotte fist bumps and high fives, always happy to see her, but not the same level of close with her. She lived in a much better part of town, and though that never affected our friendship, it meant she wasn't part of our groups late nights at the garage as often, or the nights in the tent in Mitch's backyard when we were younger. In our early days in high school, it worried me that she didn't feel as close with the boys as I did, but she revealed it mainly came from always having a crush on one of them. I couldn't really blame her, or the rest of the girls in our school who lusted after them. I was pretty biased, but each of them was special in their own way, and were truly good people. Sometimes I felt like there was something wrong with me since I didn't have any feelings like that for any of them, and never had. But they were like brothers to me, I'd do anything for all of them, but I didn't feel that way.

Char was in the middle of telling them about our visit to some of the colleges in California, where I managed to sleep through a minor earth quake, when she suddenly stopped talking. Her big green eyes were glued to the entrance behind me, and when I turned I could understand why. A guy, no a man, with messy dirty blonde hair, a nice coat of stubble around his sharp jaw, and deep green eyes. He couldn't be much shorter than Preston, and had a build that could only be achieved by years of hard work. He wore the grey T-shirt that was mandatory for gym class, the cotton straining against his muscles, black mesh shorts, and white Nike sneakers. I wasn't one to be overly moved by a persons looks, but whoever he was, he was easily the most attractive person I'd ever seen.
"Wow," I breathed.
"I know, right? I would kill to even just run my fingers through that brown hair."
I frowned at turned to Char, "Brown hair? He's clearly dirty blonde."
She scoffed, "No, not that one. The other one!"
For the first time I noticed a guy next to the man I'd noticed. He was really hot, with longish brown hair and the same color eyes, but his build wasn't as impressive and he just didn't have the same energy as the first guy.
"Um, do you guys mind? We were in the middle of a conversation." Dean interrupted, clearly displeased by our wandering eyes.
Char snapped back to attention, "I'm sorry, how rude of me."
James chuckled at her friend's clear remorse but struggle to keep her eyes away from the guy. Her friend definitely liked the new kid.