When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(6)

Mr. Stevenson calls on me one more time during the hour of class. Of course I don’t know the answer again. I need to pay better attention if he’s going to be such a colossal douche. As I struggle to come up with an answer, I hear Kennedy clearing her throat. I glance over to find her tapping a pen on the paper in front of her. There’s something written in black bold ink with a circle around it. She nods towards the front of the classroom encouraging me to answer.

“Fiscal policy?” I answer with zero confidence. It sounds more like a question than an answer. I already know that I’m screwed.

“Very good, Mr. Black,” Mr. Stevenson nods in surprise. He continues to bombard the class with more information. That was a first and probably will be the only time a teacher nods in appreciation of me. I’m sure the look of shock on my face is evident from the praise.

I take a second to look over at Kennedy who sits facing the front of the room listening intently, diligently writing down notes. A few seconds pass before she notices I’m trying to get her attention. When she looks up I mouth “Thanks” smiling at her. She smiles quickly then looks back at the board following along with the lecture.

How the hell are her eyes that shade of blue? They’re fucking clear.

Like I said before, I’ve noticed Kennedy in passing. It’s sort of hard not to. It is clear to everyone that she intends on being a spectator instead of a participant in our school. I’ve never heard of anyone saying they went out on a date with her or asked her to a dance, which is surprising. I would have thought guys would be lining up to attempt to crack that nut.

The girl’s fucking gorgeous in that understated kind of way. She just doesn’t have to try. She wakes up looking like that. That explains why most of the girls push her to the side not even trying to get to know her. Living in our small community, it’s easy to see how they all perceive her. She’s the “new girl”. Most of them have been together since kindergarten and don’t take kindly to newcomers. They’re all assholes like that.

I spend the rest of the hour trying not to look at her. Guess who lost that battle?

---This guy right here did.

The bell rings and everyone jumps up from their seats including Kennedy. When our eyes lock she forces the same smile that I recognize from freshman year. It isn’t like most girls smile at me. The rest of them grin from ear to ear trying to lure me in with their best effort, but not Kennedy. Her smile stops before reaching its full potential. She truly can’t care less who I am. A pearly white smile usually is all I need to get what I want. With her I get no emotion but indifference.

Kennedy’s the type of girl that you aren’t sure whether to inhale her all at once or hold your breath until you can’t take it anymore. She’s a breath of fresh air.





Chapter Three



-Kennedy-



“Are you ready for this?” Violet asks moving around the dressing room touching everything that she can get her hands on. She grabs the lipstick off of the counter and smears the bright red shade across her full lips. She smacks them together making the most obnoxious sound pulling her curly red hair into a mock up-do staring at me for confirmation. “Red’s my color, right?”

“It looks beautiful. Now please hand it over,” I yank it from her grasp. I am beyond nervous at this point. “I don’t know if I can do this.” I rub a hand over my collarbone trying to push back my nerves that seem to be multiplying.

Violet jerks me around by my shoulders to look at her. “You are going to be just fine. I’ve seen you dance and trust me, you’re amazing. You dance all the time in front of big crowds. This should be a piece of cake, babe.”

“It’s not the same.” Dancing in front of people who love you is different than this. This crowd would be less forgiving. My classmates aren’t programmed to love everything that I do. That’s not how high school works. You are either in or you are out, and I am most definitely out.

The door to the dressing room swings open banging against the white cement wall causing a loud echo. Violet and I jump from the noise. William, the stage hand for the night, tells me I have five minutes until I am to get on stage. Violet grins and waves in his direction. I think I saw him swallow his tongue. He shut the door quickly leaving me only with my encouraging best friend and excruciating anxiety.

“He’s sort of cute, right? Needs to get that stick out of his ass though,” Violet speaks her thoughts out loud. I know her well enough by now that she isn’t looking for a response from me. She just has to say it out loud to discard the idea.

Knowing I need to get my head straight, Violet begins to pack up her things to head out to the auditorium. That’s why I love her. She isn’t like me at all. Somehow she manages to fit perfectly into my life.

Since I was old enough to realize how nerve wracking performing in front of people can be, I have my own routine before I stepped onto the stage.

“Make sure to kick some ass out there,” she winks retreating out of the dressing room grinning at me. The doors barely closed before she pokes her head back in. “Oh and have some fun while you’re at it.”

Once I’m alone, I climb on top of the vanity popping my ear buds in scanning through my playlist until I come across what I am looking for. It changes almost every time I perform. I was ten when I started this. Back then I was listening to N’Sync on my Discman. I turn the volume up until it hurts. 30 Seconds to Mars ‘Attack’ sings through my headphones and instinctively I start to relax. In these few moments before I hit the stage that’s exactly what I’m in great need of.