Chapter 1

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The drive to school feels different today.

It's not exactly 'first day of school' jitters, but it's pretty damn close. My feet bounce against the plastic cover of Gigi's – scratch that – my car floor. The balls of feet feel like springboards, just itching for a chance to get on the court to rid my body of this nervous energy.

"Aiden," my sister hisses. "Chill the fuck out. You're making me nervous. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

She knows it's a lie, but Gigi knows enough already. Too much, I'd argue. My sister has this glitch in her genetic make-up that causes her to stick her nose way  too far into everyone else's business, especially when it deals with the personal life of her little brother.

When we lived in California, it got to the point where Gigi knew I had plans with my ex, Bobby, before I did. See what I mean? Just too 'extra.' Now, it's happening again. Already she's best friends with my pseudo-boyfriend's sister, Emma. Telling her all the nitty-gritty details will end up biting me in the ass.

A light breeze picks up as we cruise down the highway. Brilliant shades of yellow, red and orange cling to the surfaces of leaves as they fall to the ground, creating a blanket of warmth for winter. It's the kind of morning that leaves behind puffs of mist to trail your every breath, but come mid-afternoon, the sun is so warm you start to sweat your balls off.

"I heard you and Zion have been seeing quite a bit of eachother lately," Gigi prods, ruining a perfectly good bout of silence.

"Yea? I heard once you got to college, you stopped caring about petty high school drama."

Gigi narrows her eyes and scowls. "Don't be a dick. I was there when that whole shit-fest unfolded after Thanksgiving, remember? So, yea – I know Zion and Callie's relationship was a complete front and that he is into you. I also know you spent most of the weekend with him. I'm not dumb, Aiden, and I'm your sister. Are you two together or what?"

I shake my head, hating how well she knows me. And  how relentless she is when she wants information. Yes, part of the reason I don't want her knowing my business is because it's mine. The other part of it, though, is embarrassing. Even though Zion admitted to having feelings for me, he also voiced not wanting a real title or relationship. Not really, anyway.

"We're not together," I mumble.

Gigi packs her cigarettes while we idle at a stoplight, slapping the end of the pack against her palm again and again. She unwraps the foil and sticks one of the nicotine sticks into her mouth. Her thumb strikes the end of her bubble-gum colored lighter, twice, before she inhales the poison. Why did I even bother with a shower this morning?

"Friends with benefits, then?" she asks, and billows of smoke filter out of her mouth and nose.

I roll my eyes and think back to my chat with Zion before we shot some hoops. He agreed to the following terms: to plan one date per month (cringy, on my part), to kiss me each time we got done fooling around (needy, on my part), and that neither of us would sleep with other people (c'mon, that one isn't so bad). No title and no commitment (Zion's request – not mine).

"Something like that," I sigh.

Rethinking the terms chips away at my excitement and my pride. Before Thanksgiving, I had no idea Zion had feelings for me. I've been so focused on the fact that he does that I haven't really come to terms with just how pathetic our little agreement really is. Although brutally honest, Gigi's term sums it up pretty well. We're nothing more than friends with benefits. I'd argue we're only one step ahead of where I was with Casper, and we all know how that turned out.

"Just be careful, ok?"

My sister reaches over and squeezes my kneecap. It's her weird form of a hug, to let me know she's there for me without having to be too over-the-top about it. I force a smile and nod.

"No Bobby re-dos," I promise.

"Good. Speaking of which, Momma T is already texting Mom about plans for Christmas. Be thinking about what you want to do when they're here for break."

"Outside of being buried alive?"

Gigi snorts out a laugh. My excitement continues to spiral like a fallen erection at the reminder that my ex will be visiting again in a few short weeks. It's not that I don't get along with him now, because I do. We're on good terms. But the last time he was here caused more drama than I needed. Zion and I are finally in a good(ish) place, but it's precarious at best. I can't have Bobby coming back and threatening that.

"I'll think about it," I say. But I won't.

Gigi whips into the school's driveway, pulling up to the curb just in time for the first warning bell to sound.

"Have a good one, little bro. I'll be back to pick you up after practice."

Yea. In my car.

Dozens of my peers slowly filter into school. They're sporting their best 'fall fashions,' trying to keep up with whatever silent guidance social media has laid out for them. The basketball team huddles near the benches at the far end of the entrance. I watch the way the students eye them, a group I'm now a part of, with expressions ranging from longing to envy. They're the 'in' crowd, after all, the group everyone wants to be a part of.

Radik and Mike toss around a football, oblivious to the onlookers, and not giving two shits about the bell. They're the closest things to gods in this school and they know it. Which, if you think back to Radik's pit-stained basketball shirt, is pretty pathetic. My stomach tightens as I glance around the group of them until my eyes lock on the man who has way too much power over my emotions.

Zion's stoic expression never changes as he slips his hand into the back of Callie's too-tight jeans.  My jaw tightens at the sight. Yea, that epic breakup they had? It didn't last long.

Apparently Callie's mom found her and Hannah a little too cuddled up for comfort. Two days later, the hottest couple of high school just magically got back together.

I can't stop my gaze from landing on them. Zion's sharp features make him look foreboding. Or, as Gigi prefers to coin it, a bad case of RBF (resting bitch face). The sight is nauseating. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume they were simply the 'it' couple, brought together by nothing more than flawless genetics to make them stand out above the rest.

I'll give them both credit; their act could be submitted for an Oscar. An impeccable performance. Only a select few know the truth behind the mask, that Zion prefers men while Callie prefers women. The two are simply hiding behind the false pretense of an aesthetically perfect relationship to cover up what and who they truly are.

My hands tighten into fists around my backpack. I know it's fake, but it still drives me fuckin' nuts. In California, this wasn't an issue. Bobby had no qualms showing me off to everyone and anyone. Here, in a small town, it's different. The acceptance of all forms of sexuality is still seen as a progressive idea that's more trouble than it's worth. I don't like it, but I get it.

I step out of the car and Mike's obnoxiously loud voice carries over the mindless chatter to get my attention.

"Yo, Broncs! Go long!"

He motions with the football for me to run out and play wide receiver to his pass. I wave off Gigi as she peels away from the curb and throw my bag on the cement floor. I jog out a few steps and turn, nodding along for Mike to make his epic pass.

And just like that, I too fall into my role within the walls of this school – pretending to fit in with the A-crowd and hiding the fact that my heart rests in the palm of a man who is grabbing another woman's ass.

Happy Monday to you, Aiden Broncs.

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