6
Isa
As someone who prided myself on never getting into trouble and always doing what people expected of me, getting called to the Principal's office wasn't something that I ever imagined would happen. It was entirely possible that it somehow had to do with Odina, but they usually called my parents for that. As much as it might feel like it sometimes, I wasn't her mother.
I thanked fate for that every day.
"Hi, Isa," The principal's assistant said when I walked into the front office. "Go ahead. He's waiting for you."
I swallowed, murmuring a soft, "Thank you," as I wrung my hands in front of me anxiously and chewed the corner of my mouth. Moving through the office, I knocked on the wall next to the open door, stepping in when the Principal's eyes met mine and he smiled kindly.
"Isa," he said, standing from his seat behind the desk. A boy I'd never seen before stood from the chair facing the desk, spinning to face me. With olive skin and dark hair, he smiled at me. "This is Hugo Cortes. He's our new foreign exchange student. Here all the way from Ibiza."
"Hey," the boy said.
"Hi," I said, giving an awkward wave as I looked back to Principal Davis.
"I'd appreciate it if you could show Hugo around the school. He's a very advanced student, according to his transcripts, and the two of you have the same course schedule. Would you mind?" Principal Davis asked. I heaved a sigh of relief, finally understanding that I'd been called to the office to play student host. Without the threat of detention hanging over my head, I could finally breathe.
"Of course," I said, a tiny laugh escaping as I fought back the hysteria at how ridiculous I'd become. So focused on being the dutiful daughter to prevent my parents from further stress, I'd never stopped to consider just how much the thought of being in trouble bothered me. "Do you have your locker number? We can drop off your stuff and then we'll probably have time to make it to History."
"Locker 193," he said, handing me a slip of paper with his information and schedule on it.
"Right next to mine," I said, smiling up at him despite the weird feeling that settled in my stomach. That locker had already been claimed for the year. Shrugging off the lengths they went to in order to make sure he felt at home in Chicago, I turned for the door and gave Principal Davis one last wave before we stepped through and made our way out of the front office.
Our lockers were on the second level, so I headed for the stairs while I thought of a way to break the silence. "So, Ibiza, huh?" I said lamely, wincing at the terrible attempt to fill the void in conversation. It wasn't that I was typically antisocial, I just didn't bother with people most of the time, since I always had my head buried in a book or was working.
There was a difference; I'd swear it until I died.
"Yeah. It's a crazy place to live, but I love it," he laughed. "You get used to it, you know?"
"I can't imagine that," I said. "But it sounds amazing. I've always wanted to go to Europe."
He nudged my hip with his as we walked. "You'll get there one day."
"Yeah, I don't know about that, but a girl can dream, right?" We made it to our lockers, and I went through the motions of showing him how to get it unlocked since they were finicky on a good day. The school just didn't have the budget for replacing them, even though they were old enough that my Mom had used the same ones when she'd been in school.
"What about you?" he asked as he deposited his backpack in the locker and dug out the history book from the stack within. "Born in Chicago?"
"Yeah. Born and raised. I've never left the city, actually."
"Well, that's just sad," Hugo laughed, wincing when he realized how harsh it sounded. I chuckled in response, knowing the truth in the words. I couldn't even say I'd visited other parts of Illinois. Travel, even of the limited variety, required money and time I just didn't have.
"It is," I agreed, slamming the door closed on the metal locker. It clanged as I pushed harder, finally latching closed. Hugo watched the process, repeating it on his with a disbelieving chuckle.
"Those needed to be replaced like twenty years ago."
"So if you love Ibiza so much, what brings you—" I cut off as a hand came down on my jean-clad ass in a harsh slap. I spun with a scathing retort ready, all too familiar with the offending hand and wondering what I could do to get my point across. Shock consumed me when the sound of the lockers rattling hit my ears before I could even finish turning around. "What the hell, Wayne?" I asked as my eyes finally caught on to what stared me right in the face. Hugo had Wayne pinned to the lockers with a forearm pressed against the front of his throat.
"That," he paused, his handsome boy face twisting into a snarl, "was fucking rude."
"Relax, Bro," Wayne laughed. "Call off your watchdog, Isa," he said, raising his hands as if he was an innocent and hadn't been smacking my ass every day for nearly a year. "It was an honest mistake. I thought you were the easy sister."
Hugo furrowed his brow at me in question, but something seemed...off about the movement. I tilted my head to the side. "I have a twin," I explained after I got over my shock at the display of violence. "But Wayne didn't mistake me for Odina.Nobodyconfuses us."
"Might have something to do with the fact that Odina spends more time on her knees than her feet," Wayne said with a cruel smirk.
"And?" I asked. "If she's a whore, so are you." I shrugged, far too used to the judgmental comments Odina got for her actions. She was no angel, and she made stupid choices frequently, but I also wouldn't see her condemned for things the guys got away with.