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Authors: Zane Riley

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BOOK: Go Your Own Way
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Will glowered at her, his face prickling with warmth.
What did that even mean?
Voices weren’t like sex. They weren’t like much of anything when they didn’t say anything worthwhile. Natasha couldn’t make that comparison anyway since she had never—

Natasha elbowed him in the ribs. “Flirt with him.”

“What?”

“He’s totally into you.”

Will stared at her. Then Natasha yanked him around in his seat. For the first time, Will came face-to-face with Lennox and almost fell out of his chair. It wasn’t the usual distance these rows allowed either. Instead, a few inches separated Lennox’s face from Will’s. He was so close that Will caught a whiff of peppermint and cigarette smoke. He had four piercings in his left ear, a small silver ring looped through the edge of his left eyebrow and a bar that reminded Will of a shower rod pierced through two spots in the cartilage on his right ear. What was that called? An industrial piercing? Will wasn’t sure.

Will gulped as his heart stomped into his throat. Lennox smirked as he took the papers from his trembling hand. His eyes were scalding as they met Will’s.

“Thanks, babe.”

Natasha choked on her laughter.

Was this guy
flirting
with him? Hadn’t he been into Natasha two minutes ago? Will cleared his throat and tried to say a friendly, “You’re welcome,” but ended up mouthing the words.

Focus on the syllabus.
Will glanced at the sheet in his hands, but the words crumpled into each other. A
boy
was flirting with him! It was thrilling and unnerving all at once. No boy at Eastern had given him a second glance unless it was to aim a fist at his face. Already, he could feel a pointless crush creeping up his spine until it blossomed in his brain. Another year, another boy to moon over. A boy who seemed to be bisexual, or gay, and Will wasn’t sure what to do with that idea. He’d never met another boy who wasn’t ramrod, hyper-masculine straight.

Will shook himself.
Focus
.

Something heavy hit the back legs of his chair. Will stiffened. He glanced down at the sneaker resting against the chair leg. People accidentally kicked chairs all the time, but that same foot kept tapping. A moment later, a sneaker brushed his calf. Will yelped.

Several people looked at him, and Natasha winked again. Will looked again. A faded sneaker rested against the inside of his ankle—was that an ankle monitor? Will’s face burned as if it was blistering as he turned to Lennox.

“What the hell is your problem?” His voice cracked on the last word. When Will’s gaze met those burning eyes, his face flushed.

Lennox leaned forward; his callused fingers ran lightly over Will’s hand, which gripped the back of his own seat. Will jerked it away at once. His skin prickled more than if a colony of ants had skittered across him. The pleasant dip his stomach took didn’t help. Lennox was attractive, and his crassness didn’t change how Will’s body reacted.

“Still tense,” Lennox said. “ Maybe a good fuck will loosen you up.”

Will gaped at him. The nerve of this lewd, cocky, gorgeous—
stop it
. What was wrong with him?

“Boys, do you have something you need to share with the class?” Mr. Robinette said.

For once, Will was glad to have a teacher around. Teachers had never come to his aid with bullies, but at least this inter­ruption saved him from replying. Nobody ever talked to him like this; nobody had ever flirted with him. Will could han­dle bullies. It was either duck or run. His smart mouth didn’t help matters sometimes, but if he was cornered, at least he could get a few more words in before somebody made his lips bleed.

“Share?” Lennox’s eyes stayed fixed on Will. His lips quirked again and Will cursed his stomach for jolting. “I’m a monogamous man, but if voyeurism suits you, I won’t judge. We’ll never say no to an audience, will we?”

The entire class gawked. Even Mr. Robinette was silent. The only person who moved was Will. He pulled back his arm and swung his hand at Lennox’s face.

Smack!

Prissy boy
,
queen
,
faggot
,
queer
. Every slur had been thrown at him since middle school, but nobody had ever been this bold.

“How dare you!” Will said. “Like I would
ever
waste my time with you.”

Slowly, Lennox turned his head. His cheek was flushed in the shape of Will’s left hand and his scalding gaze lingered, but a sudden coldness in his eyes made Will stop. He’d just slapped a juvenile delinquent—a boy with a monitor strapped to his ankle. His insides shriveled as Lennox stood up.

“You’re going to make this an interesting year, aren’t you, little virgin queen?”

Will shuddered as he exhaled. No knives or fists or a gun to his head. Just another teenage boy with a lot to spew but nothing real to say. And so what if he was a virgin? Everyone already assumed that anyway, since he couldn’t find a nice boy around here to date. He glowered at Lennox.

“Principal’s office.” Mr. Robinette circled around toward them and the door. “Both of you. Now.”

Lennox grabbed his backpack without complaint, but Will stayed in his seat.

“What? This was his fault!”

“Front office, Will. I won’t tell you again.” Mr. Robinette opened the door. “I will not have one student slap another in my class­room, regardless of what’s been said. Grab your backpack and go to the office. I will be there once class is over.”

A cocky smirk was back on Lennox’s face. Will watched him go out the door, and then pop his head back in. “Are you going to walk or would you prefer I carry you there bridal-style?”

Natasha cracked her knuckles. “You hold, I’ll punch.”

Will shushed her as Mr. Robinette clapped his hands at Will. “Principal’s office, Mr. Osborne.”

Will shoved his notebook into his backpack and stood. He didn’t look at anyone and wished he could avert his ears the same way he did his eyes, but the whispers crackled like radio static. He’d been sent to the principal’s office on the first day. In four years, he’d never managed detention. What if they called his dad? Or Karen? If they called his father, Dad would have to close the store to come get him.

“I will call ahead to the office,” Mr. Robinette said as Will passed through the door. His eyes lingered on Lennox and the school exit only five feet to their right. “Head straight there or it’ll be worse.”

After Mr. Robinette shut the door, Lennox glanced at the door to the parking lot.

“After you.” Lennox bowed him toward the hallway to the Com­mons, laughing. Will gave him a nasty look and hurried toward the front office. He held his head high, wishing Len­nox would turn around and leave. Right now, he’d settle for Lennox not smelling so good. It was impossible not to inhale his scent when Lennox was trotting so close to his side that their shoulders kept bumping.

Lennox chuckled as Will walked faster. “Osborne,” he said as he trotted at his side. “Didn’t peg you for an Osborne. A Gardener or a Jones, maybe.”

“You’ll never peg me at all.”

“I don’t need to peg you, honey. I’ve got the real thing right here.” Lennox grinned slyly as he stopped in front of Will and patted the front of his dark jeans.

Will glared down at him. Otto was right. This guy was short. Will was barely average, but Lennox was missing a few inches on him.

“I will never do anything with you until you get your head out of your ass,” Will said. He sidestepped Lennox and continued into the Commons and then through another set of doors toward the front office. It wasn’t a long trip, at least. If they’d been upstairs in the math hallway, Will would have risked the extra detentions and run.

“And hey, maybe once you’ve gotten your head out, you’ll be tall enough to drink at the water fountain.”

“Better my head up my ass than that music stand you’ve got rammed up yours,” Lennox said. He caught up to Will’s pace easily. Will’s stomached dropped at the retort. Of course Lennox could banter with him. Nobody else managed to keep up, but this attractive idiot could. As they entered the front office, Will tried to ignore him.

“You virgins are such teases until you’re on your knees,” Lennox said as the door clicked closed.

Will clenched his jaw. He could smack him again, or maybe knee him in the balls. Mrs. Wright might freak out the way the nurse had in ninth grade when he’d stumbled into her office and thrown up on her desk, but seeing Lennox whine on the floor would make detention worthwhile. Will was already headed for that, or possibly suspension. Another hit wouldn’t hurt anything.

“You can wait in Mr. Hardy’s office, boys,” Mrs. Wright said.

Instead, as they walked into the office, Will settled for imagin­ing Lennox getting run over by a fleet of tractor-trailers.

two

Hardy’s office smelled even more like sour milk than it had an hour ago. Lennox flicked his tongue piercing against his teeth and sank further into his chair. Will shifted and crossed his legs. They were alone right now. Will had refused to acknowledge him since they’d sat down. All he did was cross and uncross his legs until Len­nox laughed, and then he dragged his chair another inch away. Lennox slid his closer every time.

Uncross. Cross.

Lennox chuckled as he shut his eyes.

Click click click.

“Would you stop that?”

Lennox grinned and rolled his head toward Will. “Stop what, baby?”

Will curled his lip and huffed. Lennox usually didn’t waste time with pet names, but Will seemed to hate them.

“You know exactly what.” Will folded his arms, and then uncrossed and crossed his legs again. “You’re such an ass.”

“And I can’t believe you think crossing your legs is going to hide that boner.” Lennox grinned wider and sat up. His eyes fell on Will’s lap and the obvious bulge running between hip and thigh. “Not bad for a white boy.”

Will’s face flushed. “Right, because a shrimp like you is just
so
much bigger.”

“I can strip for you if you’re that eager to find out.”

“You’re—just shut up.” Will’s cheeks glowed so bright he looked like a maraschino cherry. It was too easy to rattle this guy. Will wasn’t anything like the boys Lennox had hooked up with. At Lancaster, everyone had wanted something to do and most of them were past caring whether it was with another boy. They were rough and quick like Lennox. They only cared about getting straight to the point. He’d known a few timid ones as well, but as long as they put out, Lennox went with it. Will was headstrong and prissy, but too attractive to ignore. Dirty blond hair, pale eyes and freckled skin. So many freckles, like a sprinkling of copper had settled deep into Will’s skin.

“I could kiss your boner better for you,” Lennox clicked his tongue ring again.

Click click click.

Will’s legs uncrossed so fast Lennox raised his eyebrows. Will was a wonderful spitfire. At least he’d keep things interesting for the next ten months. Lennox wasn’t staying beyond that.

“You won’t ever,” Will said. His face went from red to purple with either embarrassment or anger. Lennox’s bet was on the second. “You’re not touching my anything without my permission.”

“I’ve always been patient.”

Lennox was just leaning over to take another whiff of Will’s cologne—it had a sweet hint of cinnamon and some other spice—when the office door opened. He hadn’t heard the bell, but the crowd outside was rumbling along to their next class. Hardy and the band teacher entered and shut the door again. Lennox wasn’t sure what the teacher’s name was—he hadn’t been in class long enough to find out. Hardy took a seat behind the desk.

“Back again, Mr. McAvoy? This is the second time in less than two hours.”

“I should take a lunch soon,” Lennox said. “Don’t want to get in trouble for clocking too many hours without a break.”

“You’re in danger of serious academic consequences—”

“Like I’ve never suffered through that before.” Lennox yawned and waved his hand. “Get on with the detentions so we,” Lennox nodded his head at Will and winked, “can have some alone time again. Unless
you’d
rather be the apple of my eye.”

“You’re disgusting,” Will said.

“You’re popping boners in the principal’s office.”

Will gasped and made a move to hit Lennox again.

“Boys, enough!”

Will shrank down in his chair. Hardy was an older man with hair as white as his skin and a belly as big as an overstuffed gar­bage bag. One look at his expression told Lennox all he needed to know. Another old man like his grandfather. This man had never struggled a day in his life. He went home to a table weighed down with food and stuffed himself until the button on his pants popped.

“Mr. Robinette explained what occurred in his class this morn­ing. Neither of your actions will be tolerated at my school, and none of the other problems you’ve already had this morn­ing will be tolerated either, Lennox.” Hardy looked at Lennox. “You will both serve a week of detention after school starting tomorrow.”

Beside him, Will jerked as if he was about to protest, but Hardy continued without interruption.

“Mr. McAvoy, you will stay here so we can discuss your conduct and further punishment. Mr. Osborne, see Mrs. Wright at the desk for a pass to your next class.”

Will huffed as he stood, giving Lennox one lingering look. He left and Mr. Robinette followed. Lennox watched them go. With any luck, he and Will would have more classes together. The more time he spent with Will, the better his life would be.

Hell, a trip to the grocery store for chips beat what his life had fallen into.

“Mr. McAvoy, I cannot stress enough that you are on your second warning after being on school grounds for less than two hours,” Hardy said after Will shut the door. “Your grandfather warned that you’d put on a show the first day, but this is ridic­ulous. If this continues, I’ll have no choice but to expel you. I understand your academic history and record have made your circumstances difficult at best, however—”

“They’re no harder than anyone else’s,” Lennox muttered.

“No other student at Eastern High has an ankle monitor, Len­nox. We’ve made a number of accommodations to allow you to come here. Your grandfather won’t be pleased if you get expelled in your first week.”

“Why? Because he snuck a few thousand into your budget?” Lennox stood up and grabbed his backpack. “What are we adding to my list? Another week of detention or in-school suspension?”

Hardy watched him for a few moments before speak­ing. “De­ten­tion for now. I’m giving you extra strikes so that you stand a chance at graduating. I’ve seen your transcripts. A kid with grades like yours deserves that chance, but you’re going to force my hand if you don’t slow down and
think
. Now get to class.”

Lennox sneered as he ducked out of Mr. Hardy’s office. Hardy didn’t care about him. He just wanted to keep that stupid check in his pocket and expelling Lennox wouldn’t do that. His grand­father had seemingly managed to slip money everywhere to make sure he stayed in place until June. He’d slipped money everywhere, that is, except in Lennox’s pocket.

“What’s your next class, dear?”

The secretary, Mrs. Wright, beamed at him.

“AP Calculus BC with some prude named Jenkins.”

“That’s not—”

“Spare me the lecture.”

Looking affronted, she scribbled out a pass on the page in his agenda and he hurried off. One last year and he was free. Free from his grandfather, this ankle monitor and everything here in Virginia. Lennox turned into a stairwell and took his time climbing the stairs. He paused at the top for a look out the window. A tiny prim-looking town; rolling fields and soft, rounded mountains lay not far off. Nothing worthwhile in every direction as far as he could see.

“Do you have a hall pass?”

A woman was in the doorway to the hall behind him. Lennox handed his agenda to her and stared out at the distance. Nothing close enough for him to reach.

* * *

Will spent all of French class scribbling angry remarks
and doodling a bad picture of himself kneeing Lennox in the balls. At the bell, he shuffled out with the others, wistfully thinking of the final bell when he could leave. He’d never had a first day of school as awful as this one.

Lennox was such an asshole. How could he think Will was interested in him? He wasn’t going to give him the time of day, no matter how beautiful his eyes were or how much his smile made Will’s stomach twirl. Lennox was just a dumb, irritating boy.

Will stalked down the hall to the stairs, and then toward his locker near the gym.

Aaron Saunders fell into step beside him. “Was it as bad I thought it would be?”

He was a lanky kid with bushy blond hair, big feet and a hooked nose. He was one of the few boys at Eastern who didn’t give Will a hard time. For more than a decade, they had played baseball together in Little League and then on school teams.

“Not really.” Will shrugged. “A lot of talking in French. An essay assignment in French.”

They stopped at Will’s locker. He pried the door open and shoved his new French book inside. Tomorrow, he’d come early to organize and decorate. He needed something to keep his spirits up before four new classes and two hours of detention.

“Baseball tryouts. I think I’ve got the curve ball figured out.” Aaron stuffed a piece of paper with a schedule of baseball tryouts into Will’s hand. “Coach is making us all go through the trials like last year. First one’s—”

“Wednesday,” Will read off the paper. He groaned and closed his locker door on his head.

“What’s wrong with Wednesday?”

Will pulled his head out and shut the door. “I might, just pos­sibly, have detention. Don’t look at me like that.”

“How do you already have detention, Osborne? It isn’t even noon on the first day of school.” The warning bell rang. Aaron shrugged and back-pedaled down the hall. “Whatever. I’ll tell Coach and you’ll have to come to the second one. We can throw this weekend. See you!”

“But—”

Aaron turned the corner and disappeared.

Will groaned as he stuffed the paper into his backpack and checked his schedule. Creative writing and journalism. All of his necessary classes had been difficult to shift into place around it, but he’d wanted to take this class since his freshman year. It was an elective open only to seniors. Will enjoyed writing, and this time next year, the class would be a nice addition to his resume. When he was a college student in New York City and prowling the newspapers, journals and magazines for a part-time job, he would have a little experience. One of the fashion or sports columns he followed might even hire him.

This class was much fuller than French had been. The class consisted of half the newspaper club, most of the yearbook club and the last person Will wanted to see. Well, make that second-to-last. Lennox McAvoy currently held the honor of being the
very
last person he wanted to see.

“Will! Oh, I’ve missed you. How are you? Why haven’t you been answering my texts? Did you get a new phone or something?”

Will grimaced as Roxanne squashed him in one of her lift hugs. As always, he tried to keep his toes on the ground. This year, he managed it. When she lowered him to the ground, he was pleased to see he was finally eye-level with her.

Roxanne Bryce had been pestering him since kindergarten. She was a tall, burly girl with thick brown hair, broad shoulders and more neck than a giraffe. Their first year of high school had been a relief for Will. For the first time, she wasn’t in any of his classes, at least until he’d turned up for the school newspaper meeting. For a few blissful hours, he’d been free of her barking. No hissing in his ear or notes he didn’t want to answer hitting him in the back of the head. He didn’t have to endure her rants about the latest gossip or some famous person’s new toenail polish during bus rides to and from school either now that he drove himself.

Unfortunately, that had lasted for only one year. Since then, they’d had half of their schedule together and, although he’d never given her his phone number, she’d spent half the sum­mer texting him details about potential apartments for them to share in college next year. At a college he had no plans to attend.

“I got all of your texts,” Will said. He dodged a second hug and hurried to take a seat in the horseshoe-shaped arrange­ment of desks. He chose an empty seat between two chairs with back­packs already on them. One backpack was Natasha’s. He recognized the but­terflies and football stickers all over it. He was saved then. Natasha always made a point of steering Roxanne away from them. Hopefully the owner of the other backpack wouldn’t be timid enough for Roxanne to scare away.

“Then why didn’t you—”

“Move it,” Natasha ordered as she hurried in just as the bell rang. “You are
not
swiping my seat this year. Get lost.”

Roxanne huffed. “But I want—”

“Please, take your seats everyone,” Mrs. Andruis said as she bustled in and shut the door. “We have a lot to cover today!”

The remaining students took their seats. Natasha settled on his left and Sophie Nguyen on his right. Roxanne took up the chair directly across from him and tried to continue their conversation with hand gestures. Will looked away, but found Natasha and Sophie staring at him with half-admiring, half-teasing looks. Great. If Sophie already knew about what had happened in band class, the rest of the school did, too.

“What?”

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” Sophie beamed and nudged him with her elbow. He wouldn’t call her a friend, but she and her twin sister, Hana, had always been nice to him. “I can’t believe you slapped him.”

“He deserved it,” Will said, his anger flaring up at once. They didn’t even need to mention Lennox’s name to make Will’s lips curl. “He’s a vile little prick. I hope he gets expelled. Or hit by a… by a… ugh.”

As the girls exchanged glances, Will rolled his pen back and forth on his desk and waited for the topic of their conversation to change or the lecture to begin.

“Well, I think he’s gorgeous,” Sophie said. “I’d love to tangle my fingers in those curls and—”

“Yank them out for a hair transplant.” Will prodded his pen and sent it rolling over the lip of the desk into the open space in the middle. “Damn it.”

Okay, so he was lying. Curly hair was always on his list of characteristics for a romantic fantasy, and Lennox checked that box and then some. Lennox’s hair twirled past wavy, twisted around curly and sprang right up to unruly. Too bad he had the personality of a starving piranha. Will clenched his teeth to keep himself from sighing in frustration.

“Hello? Earth to Will.”

A pale hand passed in front of his face. Sophie and Natasha were looking at him as if he’d just ignored a very important ques­tion. He probably had.

“Sorry?”

“What happened in the office?” Natasha asked. The girls exchanged another furtive glance that Will didn’t like. “I bet you two were
flirting
.”

BOOK: Go Your Own Way
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