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arm.
“Can you put your number in my phone? You know, in case I have a question about
all that literature I’m supposed to be analyzing tonight.”
    I nod, taking his phone and programming
my number into his contacts. I pretend I don’t notice Luka’s watchful eyes
taking it all in.
    “What class you got next, dude?” Brandon
asks Cooper.
    “Spanish with Gonzalez,” he replied.
    “That’s me. Let’s go, man.” He gives Dara
a quick kiss on the cheek.
    Cooper turns to Dara and Luka.   “Thanks for letting me crash your lunch,
guys.   Nice meeting you.” He flashes
me another cheeky smile before heading off with Brandon.
    Luka squeezes my shoulder and heads off
to his next class, leaving Dara and I alone to walk to the Arts wing.   I have dance and she has choir.  
    “So, Cooper seems super nice.   And he’s obviously beyond hot,” Dara
remarks.
    “Uh-huh,” I reply, refusing to bite.  
    “And I noticed that Luka had his arm
around you at lunch.   How’s that
‘just friends’ status coming along?” she teases.
    “Oh, just great,” I laugh.   “He officially asked me out for Friday
night.”
    “I knew it!” Dara screeches.   “You guys look so great together, and
he’s into you, Cam.   I could
tell.   All I had to do was get you
two breathing the same air at the same time!”
    She frowns.   “But Cooper seemed to find you basically
mouthwatering. I was surprised he didn’t drool onto the table. Do you think
he’s into you?   Are you into him?”
    I shrug.   “I don’t know D, I just met the guy this
morning. He’s cute.   And nice.   And apparently he’s into music, which
makes him even more interesting.   But ‘into me?’ I don’t know about that.   You know his type doesn’t usually find
my type attractive.”
    Dara’s frown deepens.   “Cam.   Are you talking about the whole race
issue again?   Because there are people in the world who don’t think
that matters.”
    “There are,” I agree.   “But there have been white guys that I
crushed on who wouldn’t even see me as more than a friend.   Why should Cooper be any different?”
    “Cam, I saw the way he looked at you at
lunch.   The guy is not thinking of you as just a
friend.   He already is different.”

 
    Cooper
    Pulling up to the new high school on my
motorcycle is easy. Getting off my bike and going inside? Not so much.
    I hate school. With everything in me, I
hate walking into some drab building every day and pretending like I care.
Pretending like I’m just like the rest of them. A happy well-adjusted teenager.
    I’m not.
    I’m a teenager who has seen more in my
short lifetime than any of the rest of them could even dream of. The liquor
store runs my mother got me involved in, walking into whichever dump we lived
in to find lines of white powder laid out on a table…over and over again. Those
were life experiences I’d trade with these spoiled high school kids any day.
    That was my reality.
    But my aunt insisted I enroll. She’d said
I needed the normalcy.
    Whatever.
    I think about my guitar, sitting in its
box in the closet in my room at my aunt’s beach house.
    Or should I call it a beach mansion?
She’s done well for herself. I can’t help thinking…what if my aunt had been my
mom, instead of my actual mom? My life would be so different right now.
    I don’t care about the part where we
never have any money. The part where we live in small apartments and don’t know
when our next meal is coming, or where it’s coming from. I care about the part
where I can’t always be sure where I’m sleeping every night. I care about the
part where I don’t know who will be coming home with my mom from one night to
the next. I care about the part where she doesn’t care if I go to school or
not, or where I am from one hour to the next.
    So, needless to say, as I pull up to Oceanveiw High I’m not looking forward to a long day in a
building full of strangers who I have nothing in common