No One Like You

CHAPTER ONE - LIKE WATER AND OIL

Jo's POV:

There is no one like Nic Salazar.

Annoying. Impulsive. Egotisic. Overly competitive. Having known him all my life you'd think we'd be the best of buds, especially considering we live right across from each other and our mom's spend a lot of time together. Much to their dismay I like to consider Nic as... well not exactly a friend but he's also not a stranger. A pest? That sounds about right. But dead is what he will be the minute I get my hands on him after he left to school without me.

Last night after the usual Sunday dinner with my family and the Salazar's, I made the decision to go for a ride on my bike in the woods walkway path behind my house. I was craving ice cream from Jenny's Ice Creamery and I snuck away saying I'd wash the dishes because I knew if I had said where I'd be going, our families would volunteer Nic and I to get ice cream for everyone.

I just needed some peace and quiet. Alone. Sunday dinners were anything but peaceful and quiet, quite the opposite actually. But the sun set faster than I anticipated and as I ate my ice cream as I rode my bike home I failed to notice the tiny ass pebble that caused me to swerve and fall off my bike. Luckily for me I only had a few scrapes but unfortunately my bike took the bigger hit with the chain coming off and tangling between the bike. In the dark there was no way I could fix it but once I tried pushing it home I ran into trouble so I called my dad who told my mom who told Cynthia - Nic's mom - who told Nic to come get me.

He presented himself with a snorted laugh as he found me sitting beside my damaged bike and the tiny ass pebble.

"You're such a loser," he declared. I merely rolled my eyes as I got up.

"Oh shit," he muttered.

"What?" I asked alarmed. He pointed at my chest.

"You're bleeding," he said.

I looked down to see a red purplish color smeared across my white blouse. I sighed. "It's Goose Tracks."

His eyes widened. "From Jenny's?" he gasped as he put his hand on his heart acting hurt.

I shrugged and motioned to the bike. He helped me lift it up and we pushed it all the way home. When we arrived, Cynthia and my parents agreed that Nic would take me to school in the morning since I usually rode my bike.

I may or may not have snoozed my alarm one too many times and I managed to wake when I heard Nic call out for me, warning that he'd leave me. I failed to have a sense of urgency and I took my time to get ready and was surprised that the asshole did in fact leave me.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath as I held onto my backpack tighter and began to walk to school. At the closest stop sign I found Nic's blue pickup truck waiting for me. I narrowed my eyes as I got closer.

"Get in loser," he calls out.

I contemplate arguing back but considering we're both late as it is I begrudgingly jump into his truck grumbling curses at him.

"What did you say?" he says out loud. I glance at him and see the all-too-familiar smirk of his.

"Nothing," I bite out.

"Oh by the way I won't be able to give you a ride home until six."

"Why?"

"I have soccer practice after school."

Oh right.

"I'll just ask Vi," I reply and stare out the window watching as we pass by the millions of trees.

"How is she by the way?"

I roll my eyes. I'm not sure when his crush with Vi started but anytime I'd bring her up he'd get all cringey.

"Fine."

"What does she say about me?"

I snort. "What makes you think she even talks about you?"

"I'm the varsity captain for soccer. She's the varsity captain for soccer. We have so much in common."

Though that alone was true, them having stuff in common was so not true. Vi–Violet–but Vi to me, was my best friend since sixth grade. Fierce and caring and passionate for soccer, she was also a great daughter to her single mother who worked long shifts so Vi took on the role of taking care of her younger siblings and grandfather. I never clicked with anyone as much nor as quickly as I did with her. Much to Nic's dismay she never showed interest in him–she knew of him, obviously, especially considering how close our families are and soccer and all but she never talked about him and much less had I.

"Keep trying, lover boy," I remarked.

When we arrived at school Nic and I went our separate ways without a word. Managing my way through the halls of Creekwood High, I almost reached Vi at her locker when I was stopped by Mrs. Harrison, the senior counselor.

I had been avoiding her but it seems like my masterplan failed as I found myself seated in her office filled with brochures and printed posters on the walls that displayed corny motivational quotes surrounded by university flags.

"So, Ms. Torres. I believe you're the only senior that has yet to meet with me to talk about your plan for next year." She smiled. She was kind, I have to admit that, but the thought of talking to her, especially about my "future" was nauseating.

"Really? All two hundred and forty-three other seniors have already come by?"

Her smile didn't waver. I sighed. "I'm taking a gap year," I tell her, "so I didn't think a meeting with you was necessary."

"A gap year. That's good. What's your plan after the gap year?"

I shrugged.

"Well I have some brochures for nearby colleges, and some far away if you're interested. They all have great music programs."

I could barf on her neatly set up desk right this second.

I stand up, throw on my backpack. "Thanks, but I'm okay." I'm seconds from bolting out of there when she tells me to wait.

"I understand, no college talk then. As your counselor it is my job to ensure I help you with your future outside of high school–"

"Look, I get it. But I really don't have plans after all of this. I don't intend to make plans. I'm just trying to graduate and get out of here which means I can't be missing calculus which started five minutes ago." I turn toward the door.

"Wait," she replies, "If your goal is to graduate then we have a situation."

I turn back around. "What?" I ask, alarmed.

"Well," she says, then with her hand on her computer mouse starts clicking away, her eyes on her monitor screen. "It looks like you're missing some credits to graduate."

I sit down. "How is that possible?"

"Unexcused absences."

My heart falters and I stare down at my shoes.

"We have some options," she tells me. "If those absences were due to a doctor's visit or dentist appointment then they can be excused with a note."

"What are my other options?" I ask, glancing at her.

"Well, I see here that your fourth period is a free period. I can replace that with an elective so you can get the credits necessary for graduation."

I perk up. Sure losing my free period sucks, especially as a senior, but at least it'll be with an elective. "What's the elective?"

"We have two choices. The boys varsity soccer team is in dire need of a ball boy–"

My nose crinkles. "What's a ball boy?"

"Think of it as the team manager. You'll set up and take down the equipment, clean uniforms, and during games you'll retrieve and replace any balls as necessary."

That sounds like a lot of work...and with the boys soccer team. No way.

"What's my other choice?"

"Guitar with Mr. Garcia. I know you dropped it two years ago but you were so good and I'm sure he'd love for you to rejoin his class and–"

"No music." I cut her off. I watch as she visibly deflates.

"Are you sure? This would be a great opportunity for you."

"What about the girls soccer team?" I ask, changing the subject. "Do they need a ball boy or whatever?" It would still be work but if it's with the girls soccer team at least Vi would be there.

"No," Mrs. Harrison replies, "the girls team is already set. The boys on the other hand just lost their ball boy so they need a replacement, well, today actually. They start practice after school."

"Can I think about it and tell you tomorrow?" I ask.

"I can only give you until fourth period today," she responds. "I need to find someone to replace the ball boy by then."

I sigh, staying quiet for a while.

"This must be a lot," she suddenly says, "What if we call your parents and we can set a plan for–"

"No," I respond, much too abruptly. "I'll be the ball boy or whatever for the boys soccer team."

She forces a smile. "Look, I was kind of hoping you'd choose guitar. Fourth period is actually with a lot of other seniors as well so it wouldn't be an intro class or anything. It might help inspire you. I hate to bring it up but as your counselor, and well a few comments from your teachers, we're just a bit concerned about your interests or lack thereof. I spoke to Mrs. Flores, and she said you had a lot of dreams of doing something in music when you spoke with her your Sophomore year. Perhaps I could help you with that. I understand at your age its normal to lose interest in stuff but it seems like you don't seem interested in anything really so guitar would be the perfect elective for you to–"

I stand up. My hand holding my backpack in a tight fist. "No music," I stammer out in a sharp tone.

Somewhat shocked with my reaction, Mrs. Harrison recomposes herself and nods. "No music," she restates. "So then ball girl for the boy's soccer team?"

I nod. "Do I go to the soccer field during fourth period or?"

"I'll make arrangements," she responds and pulls out a notepad before scribbling something on it and handing it to me. "A tardy pass for Calculus."

I mutter a thank you before making my way out of there. Only 8:45 and all my energy has officially been drained. This is why I avoided her. Stupid unexcused absences.

When lunch time rolls around I have already caught Vi up with my eventful morning with Mrs. Harrison.

"That sucks," she tells me again once we've sat down. I poke at the ground beef on my tray.

"I know. I even asked if I could be the ball boy–girl–whatever for the girls soccer team but she said no."

"Yeah, Arleene is the ball girl."

"Do you think she'd switch with me if I asked?"

"No way, she actually enjoys it."

I groan.

"Why don't you talk to your parents? I'm sure all your absences will be excused."

I shake my head. "No," is all I say.

"You make your life more complicated than it needs to be Jodi."

Yikes. She pulled the Jodi card. She only calls me by my full name when she is upset or serious.

"It gives me adrenaline to live in this chaos," I deadpan and she rolls her eyes.

After lunch I hit the soccer field during fourth period, finding it completely empty. I almost go look for Coach Camacho in his office but decide to sit at the bleachers for a moment. Opportunities for peace and quiet can never be wasted.

"Welcome to my stage newly assigned ball girl."

My body cringes at the sound of his voice and I take a peek at the person speaking behind me.

"How did you find out," I question.

"I'm the captain," Nic says, "I know everything that impacts the team."

I groan. "Shouldn't you be in class or something," I respond.

"It's my free period. I usually come practice or hang out in the locker room with Coach."

"Geez, you never just, you know, sit back and relax?" I ask rhetorically.

"Nah, I get bored easily," he responds anyway.

"I thought I might find you here, Coach and I were waiting for you until he sent me to find you. Come on, your peace and quiet will have to wait until later."

I grab my things and follow Nic to the locker room. "Am I even allowed in here?" I ask. "Isn't this where you guys get naked and shit?"

"It's changing not getting naked and shit. Didn't you take gym class?"

I shrug. "I took a different elective."

"As part of the team you're going to have to come in. We'll have to come up with a system so you don't ogle at us."

I scrunch my nose. "I wouldn't ogle at you."

"Sure," he merely responds but doesn't sound convinced. "Anyways, it looks like Coach had to go to his meeting already," he says when we arrive at Coach Camacho's empty office. "I'll just give you the play by play."

We walk inside the office and Nic opens a door that leads to a closet. "This is where we keep the equipment. For days that we have practice you'll have to bring out all the balls, goals and cones and set them up for our scrimmage. Over here are the jerseys we use for practice that need to be washed each time they are used. You'll also have to fill and refill, then clean the water cooler before and after practices and games. Talking about games, any time a ball goes out of play you need to quickly return it to the field with the players. Usually you position balls around the sidelines so it gets done faster. I think, for right now, that's pretty much it. Any questions?"

"Yeah I totally blanked out after you said something about the equipment."

Nic groans. "Are you serious right now?"

"It was a joke, relax," I half lie. I did hear everything he said, but it didn't mean I understood anything. As much as I've gone to Vi's games, I just couldn't get into soccer. I just knew to react when she scored and that was pretty much it. "Not gonna lie, this sounds like a lot. Do I get paid?"

"I hope you're joking," Nic tells me as we walk back to Coach Camacho's office. He sits on the rolling chair.

"I'm just saying, sounds like a lot. Do I have an assistant or someone to help?"

"Nope."

"I'm supposed to do all of that alone?"

"Yup."

"Wouldn't that take me long?"

"Last ball boy wouldn't leave home until seven after practice."

"What?!"

"Anyways," he says with a yawn and leans back in the chair, his eyes suddenly droopy. "You should get started before fourth period ends because this needs to be ready by the time practice starts."

My eyes dart to the clock. There's only twenty minutes left before fifth period starts.

I glance back at Nic who has officially closed his eyes. "Aren't you going to help me?" I can't help but ask.

He opens one eye and shrugs. "As the great captain that I am, I probably could," he says, " but as your long time...neighbor, I don't want to."

One could say Nic and I are like water and oil. Impossible to mix.

Oh Nic Salazar, I can't help but think, annoyed beyond return, there's no one like you.