Steering the Stars (5 page)

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Authors: Autumn Doughton,Erica Cope

BOOK: Steering the Stars
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“Good morning, Mr. McKain,” a familiar voice rang out, surprising me. I looked up to see Henry, Hannah's older brother, walking up the sidewalk toward us holding a cup from Starbucks. Could it possibly be a delicious Pumpkin Spice Latte? My heart thumped with anticipation.

     
 
Henry had on hoodie with Northside Buffalos written in red lettering across the front. The hood was pulled up, but his face still glistened with stray raindrops. He and Hannah had that weird sibling quality where they looked alike but not really. They both had light brown hair that faded to soft gold at the tips and wide-set eyes that seemed to shift between smoky blue and grey. Today Henry’s eyes seemed more grey than blue as though they were reflecting the dreary sky and my mood.

     
 
“Caroline? Are you okay?”

     
 
“I-I…What are you doing here?” I asked, secretly hoping that the coffee cup in his hands was for me.

     
 
“Um, it is the first day of school, right?” he said as he handed me the coffee. M
y hero!

     
 
“Yeah,” I answered, taking the cup from him gratefully and letting my hands absorb the warmth. Mmmm, it was definitely a PSL! Fall in a cup and so good for the soul.

     
 
“So—I'm here.”

     
 
“You're still going to give me rides?” I asked, dumbfounded.

     
 
“Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?” Henry frowned, which drew my attention to his mouth and square chin. He hadn’t bothered to shave this morning and I could see a light smattering of stubble along his jaw. Hannah always complained if Owen didn’t shave, but if I was being totally honest, I kind of liked the scruffy look. It was rugged and… hot. Not that I was supposed to be thinking of Henry as hot. What was wrong with me this morning? He was Hannah’s brother
and
a taken man.

     
 
“I, uh… I just figured with Hannah gone, you wouldn't bother.”

     
 
“You know I'd never let ya down,” he said with an easy smile. “Remembered your favorite coffee and everything.”

     
 
“Okay great, so Henry will take you to school,” Dad said, not even bothering to hide the relief in his voice. “See you this evening, Caroline. And thanks, Henry.”

     
 
“Right. Bye, Dad.” I waved to his back as he hurried away.    

     
 
“Should we get going?” Henry asked, bringing my attention back to the fact that we were still standing out in the rain and, unlike me, he didn’t have an umbrella.

     
 
“Yeah, sorry.” I raised the umbrella, stretching it as high as I could in an attempt to shield us both from the downpour. Henry, quite a bit taller than my five feet two inches, laughed as he took the umbrella from me and held it high enough for both of us. He rested his hand on the small of my back and my body suddenly rippled with an involuntary shiver.    

     
 
“Cold?” he asked.

     
 
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled. Better to fake a chill in September than admit that my body just spontaneously combusted at his mere touch.

     
 
“So are we picking up Elise too?” I asked hesitantly. Elise and Henry had been dating almost as long as Hannah and Owen had, which meant
forever
in my opinion. But, unlike Owen, I didn’t particularly like Elise Rivers. Call me crazy but blond, big-breasted and bitchy was not my idea of someone I wanted to spend time with. But I wasn’t a guy so what did I know?

       “No,” he said a little harshly before adding, “We broke up.”

      
What?
My brain was screaming with this new information. Though I’d never thought Elise deserved him in the first place, this was an unexpected development. Of course, I wasn’t sure that any man, woman or beast on the planet could ever really deserve Henry Vaughn. “Really? What happened?

       “I caught her messing around with some jackass from Holy Cross at a field party a few weeks ago,” he said.

     
 
“What?” I sputtered. “Hannah didn’t mention it.”

     
 
“I didn’t exactly hire a skywriter if you know what I mean.”

     
 
“Right.” I shook my head. “God, Henry, I’m so sorry.”

     
 
“No worries. I’ve had time and I’m fine with it,” he said with a casual shrug, but I could tell he was still hurt by the betrayal.

       If I didn’t like Elise before, I really hated her now. I wanted to press the issue, squeeze out all the dirty details but I could tell Henry didn’t want to talk about it, so I let it drop. I’d definitely have to ask Hannah about this later.

       The ride to school was a little awkward. Maybe it was because we’d been discussing Elise, or maybe it was because it was just the two of us and we’d never hung out without his sister. Not that we were hanging out. Henry was just giving me a ride to school and that was all. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I thought that Hannah must have put him up to it. Yep, that would explain why he showed up this morning. She must have read my sad email and begged her brother to rescue me.

     
 
So, that begged the question: was a pity ride to school better or worse than having your dad drive you to school? I couldn't be sure. Both options made me feel pretty pathetic though I knew which one I
preferred.
It was a no brainer. I’d take the pity ride with Henry any day. Especially if it came with a pumpkin spice latte. I took a sip of my glorious caffeinated coffee.

     
 
“Have you talked to Jellybean much?” Henry asked, finally breaking the silence as he pulled into the school parking lot. Jellybean was a nickname Hannah’s family started using when she was a baby, and it stuck.

     
 
“Yeah, I got a message from her this morning.”

     
 
“Cool.”

     
 
“Yeah, cool.” I didn't know what else to say and the uncomfortable silence inside the car was becoming unbearable so I figured it was time for me to make my exit before this got any weirder.

     
 
“Well, thanks for the ride,” I said awkwardly. I did a wave/shrug thing before turning to fumble with the door handle. Then,
of course,
my foot caught on the strap of my bag which caused me to tumble out of the car. N
ice. Real smooth, Care.

      
“You okay?” he asked, jumping out of his side of the car with obvious concern while at the same time trying not to chuckle at my expense.

     
 
“Yeah, I'm good. Fine. Golden.”

     
 
“At least you saved your coffee,” Henry said, pointing to my still upright cup.

     
 
“Right. You gotta have priorities. So… see you later. Or not. Whatever. Bye!” I scrambled like an idiot to make an escape.

     
 
Yep. I should've just stayed in bed wallowing. Too late now.

     
 
Little did I know that my day was about to get even worse and it wasn't even officially 8AM yet…

     
 
“Ah, Miss McKain!” Mr. Kant, the school counselor, waved when I entered the building. He was panting like he’d been walking too fast and he had a phone gripped in his hand. “I’m so glad I ran into you before first period. I was going to have to come and find you.”

     
 
“Um, okay?”

     
 
“Let’s head into my office. We have a slight problem.”

     
 
Dread filled me. What could possibly be wrong? I had never ever
ever
had a problem at school. The only time my name was called during announcements was to commend me for perfect attendance. And the only reason Mr. Kant even knew me was because he ran a peer counseling club and Hannah and I had both been members freshman year.

     
 
“Can you tell me what it is?” I asked nervously as I followed him to the administration office. I had a photography class first period and it looked like I was going to be late.

     
 
“Just a moment.” We walked past a group of students who Mr. Kant assured he’d see in turn, and ended up in a corner office. I tried to make myself as comfortable as I could on one of two stiff wooden chairs situated in front of his desk. You’d think a counselor would have comfortable chairs to be, you know, counseled in. But I’d only been sitting for about five seconds when my butt and back started to hurt. I noticed Mr. Kant’s chair was plush and comfy looking.

     
 
After sitting down, he wheeled himself over to a filing cabinet and started rifling through a drawer full of papers. My nervousness kicked it up a few notches.

     
 
“The first day is always hectic so we try to help out in different ways,” he told me. “I’m working on clearing scheduling kinks.”

     
 
“Okaaaay?”

     
 
“It seems that the photography elective you signed up for last year is full so you’ll have to switch to an alternative class,” he dropped this information in my lap as though it wasn’t a big deal.

     
 
But it was. It was huge. I was not a go-with-the-flow kind of person. I didn’t just change class schedules on a whim. I calculated. I weighed options. I planned. And I had
planned
on taking that class.

     
 
“What do you mean?” I asked, fighting against the desperation in my voice. “I signed up for this class last year. It was supposed to be
guaranteed
.”

     
 
Mr. Kant, a.k.a., “The Troll Messing With My Schedule,” swiveled his chair away from the files to face me and said, “I think you understand that nothing in life is guaranteed.”

     
 
“But…” my voice trailed off and I shook my head. “I don’t know how this happened. I was supposed to have this class to work toward being a yearbook photographer.” Hannah had encouraged me to go for it. I was already decent with a camera but I needed the class to even be considered for the yearbook position.  If I didn’t take it this year, there was no way I’d get the position next year.  

     
 
“You are only a junior,” he said, like I was unaware of what my grade level was. “And you are aware, of course, that seniors get scheduling priority. Next year, that will be you, and you can organize your schedule how you like.”

     
 
“But we’re talking about
this
year.”

     
 
“Yes, we are.”

       “Can’t you just slip me in? It's just a photography elective. It's not like it's a core class,” I argued. What was happening to me? I
never
argued with adults. I was a model student. I was a sit-in-the-front-row and never-even-tardy kind of girl.

       This wasn’t fair.

       I’d signed up for that class last spring. Hannah and I had talked about it extensively. She’d left me one of her cameras specifically for this purpose. I was counting on this. It was the only thing I had to look forward to this semester.

       “You’re right. Photography is an elective, and you have other options for an elective. Good options.”

       “Please don’t do this to me,” I said, now dangerously close to tears. I could feel my throat tightening and my eyes burning. “I’m begging you.”

       “If I made special arrangements for
every
student then where would we be?”

       “But it’s not for
every
student. It’s just me.”

       Mr. Kant, who I was now upgrading to “Jerkface,” didn’t seem even remotely sympathetic to my plight. He sat back in his chair and sighed. “That’s what everyone says.”

       “But I have a perfect record!” I wasn't about to give up yet. “I've never even so much as skipped a class. I get straight As!” Okay, so there was that time last year when I got a B in Calculus, but it was a B+ so that’s practically an A. I mean,
hello,
it was
Calculus
! “You can't make just a tiny exception?”

       “Miss McKain, I'm sorry but I can’t.”

       “But—”

       “I really can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to choose something else for that time slot.”

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