Introduction
I was in a rush. Schedule pick-up started in thirty minutes. That was nowhere near enough time to finish getting ready and drive there.
Now, some people might be wondering, “Why do you even need to get ready for schedule pick-up?” Well, because schedule pick-up is basically another first day of school—and I’m tryna come correct, okay? Hair laid, outfit on point, makeup flawless.
“Sani!” I heard my best friend Nevaeh yell from the FaceTime call on my phone, snapping me out of my daydream.
“Are you almost ready?” she pressed.
“Yes, just a little more makeup,” I replied, leaning into the mirror.
“I can’t believe it. Senior year, and we both still ain’t got no man,” she said with a dramatic sigh.
Me and Nevaeh can do a whole lot of things—slay outfits, turn heads, make plans—but having a healthy relationship? Yeah… that just never seems to make the list.
“I agree. Like, what are we missing? All these ratchet girls with straight F’s and bonnets on at school seem to secure a man sooo easily,” I said, shaking my head.
“GIRL—” Nevaeh practically yelled, “don’t even get me started on them girls with the bonnets.”
I laughed, finishing up my makeup. “Okay, I’m ready. I’ll see you there.”
“Okay, luv you, girl,” she said before hanging up.
“Love you,” my mom called out as I walked out the door with my car keys and purse.
“Love you too, Mom,” I replied, heading to my car.
As I slid into the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help thinking, I really hope there’s some fine men—with morals—this year. I started the car, music already queued up, and pulled off toward the school, ready to turn heads before the first bell even rang.
The parking lot was already packed when I pulled in, music still thumping from my speakers. I eased into a spot like I was pulling up to a red carpet, because honestly? Schedule pick-up is a red carpet… for the hallways.
I grabbed my purse, checked my reflection in the rearview, and stepped out like I was making an entrance. The late summer heat hit me instantly, but my outfit was too cute to let a little sweat ruin the vibe.
Across the lot, I spotted Nevaeh waving like a maniac, her braids bouncing as she practically skipped toward me.
“Okayyy, Sani! Come through, girl!” she yelled before I even got close.
“You know I had to,” I grinned, giving her a quick hug. “We about to make this senior year our runway.”
She smirked, linking her arm through mine. “Period. Let’s go see what kind of eye candy showed up this year.”
We headed toward the main doors, the chatter of students, the smell of fresh school supplies, and the low-key tension of everyone sizing each other up hanging in the air. First impressions mattered—and we were about to make ours count.
We stepped inside, and it was like a flood of déjà vu. The same squeaky floors, the same faded trophy case, and—of course—the same people we’d been seeing since middle school.
Over by the front office, I spotted Maya leaning against the wall with her crew, already gossiping like she was getting paid for it. Same glossy lip gloss, same fake laugh.
“Girl, she still got that exact hairstyle from last year,” Nevaeh whispered in my ear. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
Near the tables for last names A–F, we passed Jayla and her twin brothers. Jayla gave us a quick smile and wave, the kind that says I’m friendly, but I still remember what you said about me in ninth grade.
Further down, I clocked the basketball boys huddled up by the vending machine, loud and already acting like they ran the school. Some of them barely looked up when we walked by, but I still caught a couple of side-eyes lingering a second too long.
It was like the first day of school without the classes—just everyone scoping each other out, checking who changed, who glowed up, and who… didn’t.
“Welp,” Nevaeh said, adjusting her bag. “So far, same old same old.”
“Yeah,” I smirked. “But the day’s still young.”
“Welp,” Nevaeh said, adjusting her bag. “So far, same old, same old.”
“Yeah,” I smirked. “But the day’s still young.”
She suddenly slowed her step, her eyes shifting toward the far corner. “Well… he’s new,” she murmured.
I followed her gaze. There was a guy standing alone, hoodie pulled up, headphones in. He wasn’t talking to anybody, wasn’t laughing, wasn’t doing the whole look at me act like most boys here. Just leaning against the wall, eyes down on a folded piece of paper—probably his schedule.
“Interesting,” I said quietly, tilting my head. I’d only looked at him for maybe two seconds, but something about him… felt off. Not in a dangerous way, but in that there’s more to this than meets the eye kind of way.
“Unlikely candidate,” I added, side-eyeing Nevaeh.
She let out a short laugh. “Girl, you a mess.”
We kept moving, scanning the crowd for more familiar faces, but I couldn’t shake the quick little spark of curiosity he left behind.
We finally made our way toward the tables, the crowd buzzing like a hallway between classes. Nevaeh and I squeezed past a group of loud sophomores until we reached the sign that read Last Names G–L.
The lady at the table barely looked up as she slid me my schedule. I stepped to the side so Nevaeh could grab hers, my eyes already scanning down the paper.
“Okay, first hour… English 12,” I said under my breath.
“Same!” Nevaeh grinned, holding her paper next to mine. “Second hour?”
“Algebra II… ugh.”
She groaned. “Yeah, you on your own for that one.”
We went class by class, circling the ones we had together and groaning at the ones we didn’t. It was basically a puzzle—trying to figure out how to survive senior year without getting separated too much.
“Dang,” I sighed. “Only three classes together this semester.”
“Three is better than none,” she said, bumping my shoulder. “Besides, now we got more reason to meet up for lunch tea every day.”
I laughed, folding my schedule and tucking it into my purse. “Lunch tea? Girl, you mean gossip.”
“Same thing,” she smirked.
We started weaving our way toward the exit, schedules in hand, still laughing about how “lunch tea” was going to become our daily ritual. The crowd had thinned a little, but there were still clusters of people hanging around, comparing schedules and catching up.
That’s when I saw him again—Hoodie Guy. Same corner, same posture, still looking down at that piece of paper like it held the secrets to life.
Except this time, as we passed, he looked up. Just for a second.
Our eyes didn’t exactly meet—more like brushed past each other—but it was enough to make me wonder what his deal was. No smile, no head nod, just this unreadable expression before his gaze dropped right back to the paper.
Nevaeh leaned in, whispering, “Still an unlikely candidate?”
“Yup,” I said quickly… even though a tiny part of me wasn’t so sure anymore.
We pushed through the front doors, the hot air wrapping around us again, and headed for our cars—ready to hit up Starbucks and start senior year off with the kind of sugar high only caramel frappes could give.
Starbucks was packed, but that was nothing new. Me and Nevaeh slid into line, still fanning ourselves from the heat outside. The smell of coffee and caramel drizzle hit instantly, and my mood jumped at least three notches.
Nevaeh was mid-rant about how the school needed better AC when she suddenly froze. “Oh… my… God.”
I followed her line of sight to a tall guy standing near the pick-up counter, scrolling on his phone. Fresh fade, gold chain catching the light, and a smile—well, half-smile—like he knew somebody was watching him.
“That’s him,” she whispered, eyes wide.
“That’s who?”
“My future man,” she said without hesitation.
I smirked, because if Nevaeh was gonna sit here and call dibs, the least I could do was stir the pot. “Bet you won’t go talk to him.”
“Bet you I won’t,” she said quickly, crossing her arms.
I rolled my eyes and stepped out of line before she could stop me.
“Hi,” I said when I got close enough. He looked up from his phone, eyebrows raised slightly.
“Hey,” he replied, voice low and smooth.
“Random question—do you go to Eastview High?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Just transferred.”
“Ah,” I grinned, glancing over my shoulder to where Nevaeh was pretending to scroll her phone while totally watching. “Well, welcome. I’m Sani. That’s my best friend over there trying so hard not to look at you.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Junior,” he said, offering his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Junior.” I shook it, then backed away before Nevaeh had a heart attack.
By the time I got back in line, she was gripping my arm. “Girl, what did you just do?!”
“Secured your icebreaker for senior year,” I teased, grabbing my frappuccino from the counter.
We slid back into my car, drinks in hand, the AC blasting on full power. Nevaeh hadn’t even taken her first sip before she whipped toward me.
“Okay—spill. What did he say? What’s his name? Did he smile? Did he—”
I held up a finger. “One question at a time, ma’am.”
She narrowed her eyes, sipping her drink slow like she was trying not to lose it.
“His name’s Junior,” I said finally. “He goes to Eastview. Just transferred.”
Nevaeh’s lips curved into the biggest grin. “Junior… I like it. Sounds like a basketball player name.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But all I know is, you were over there staring like he was on a magazine cover.”
“Don’t play, Sani. You know he was fine.”
I laughed, pulling out of the parking lot. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you that one.”
She kept talking about him—what classes he might have, how he dressed—but my mind wandered for a second. Back to the guy in the hoodie. Standing alone in that corner like the noise around him didn’t exist. Something about that moment had felt… strange. Not bad, not dangerous, just different. Like I’d accidentally stepped into a scene I wasn’t supposed to notice.
I shook it off when Nevaeh nudged me. “You listening?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, turning the music up. “You’re just already plotting your love story, that’s all.”
