Chapter 1

I checked my watch for the fifth time, squinting through my black-framed glasses at the gymnasium doors.

Laura's cheerleading practice should have ended thirty minutes ago. My stomach tightened with worry. This wasn't like Laura.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, adjusting the strap of my messenger bag. As the new girl who'd transferred mid-semester, Laura was my only friend in this school—my social lifeline.

"She probably just got held up," I muttered to myself, trying to ignore the growing knot of anxiety. What if something was wrong? What if she needed help?

After another five minutes of indecision, I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy gymnasium doors. The familiar smell of floor polish and sweat hit me immediately. The main gym was empty, the polished wooden floor gleaming under the fluorescent lights. No sign of the cheerleaders.

"Laura?" I called out, my voice echoing in the cavernous space. No response.

I wandered deeper into the building, past trophy cases filled with gleaming cups and plaques celebrating the school's athletic achievements. The hallway branched off in several directions, and I hesitated, trying to remember which way led to the girls' locker room.

Left? No, right. Definitely right.

I turned down a corridor, my footsteps echoing against the tile floor. The doors were unmarked, and I bit my lip, hesitating before the first one I came to. This seemed like the right area, but I'd only been here once before when Laura had given me a quick tour.

"Laura?" I called again, softer this time. "Are you in there?"

No answer. I placed my hand on the door handle and pushed it open, just a crack at first, then wider.

The steam hit me first, warm and humid. Then came the realization that I'd made a terrible mistake.

Standing with his back to me, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, was a boy—no, a young man—with broad shoulders and the kind of defined muscles you see in sports magazines. Water droplets clung to his tanned skin, catching the light as he reached for a shirt hanging in an open locker.

I froze, my brain struggling to process what my eyes were seeing. This wasn't the girls' locker room. This was very much the boys' locker room. And not just any boy—as he turned at the sound of the door, I recognized the chiseled jawline and dark hair of Jeremy Hawthorne, the basketball team captain and unofficial king of Westlake High.

His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed dangerously.

"I—I'm so sorry!" I stammered, my face burning hot enough to melt steel. "I was looking for Laura, and I thought—"

"What the hell?" Jeremy's voice cut through my babbling like a knife. He clutched his towel tighter around his waist, his expression morphing from surprise to anger. "Are you serious right now?"

"No! I mean, yes—I mean, this was an accident!" I backed up, bumping into the doorframe. "I got lost, I was just trying to find—"

"Yeah, right." His tone dripped with sarcasm as he grabbed a t-shirt and held it against his chest. "Just happened to wander into the guys' locker room? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, of course not! I really am looking for Laura. Her practice ended a while ago, but she never came out, and I was worried, so—"

"So you decided to peek at guys changing?" Jeremy's voice rose, echoing off the tiled walls. "Get out!"

My throat tightened as tears threatened to form. This wasn't happening. I'd spent months carefully cultivating my invisibility at this school, and now I was being accused of being some kind of peeping Tom by the most popular boy in school.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice small and shaking. "It was an honest mistake. I'll go."

As I backed out of the doorway, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste to escape, I collided with someone in the hallway.

"Annie? What are you doing back here?" Laura's familiar voice was like a life raft in a stormy sea. She was still in her cheerleading uniform, her blonde ponytail slightly disheveled.

Before I could answer, Jeremy appeared in the doorway, now with a shirt on but still visibly furious.

"Your friend here was spying on me changing," he accused, pointing a finger at me.

Laura's eyes widened, then narrowed as she stepped between us. "Are you kidding me right now? Annie wouldn't do that. She was looking for me because practice ran late and Coach had us using the auxiliary gym today."

"So she just happened to open the door to the men's locker room?" Jeremy crossed his arms, his biceps flexing beneath his shirt.

"The doors aren't labeled, genius," Laura shot back, her hands on her hips. "And she's new here. She made a mistake."

"A convenient mistake," Jeremy scoffed.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Students were starting to peek out from other doors, drawn by the rising voices.

"You know what, Hawthorne? Not everything is about you," Laura said, her voice rising to match his. "Not every girl in this school is dying to get a glimpse of the almighty basketball captain half-naked."

Jeremy's jaw tightened. "Watch it, Mills. Just because you're on the cheer squad doesn't mean you can talk to me like that."

"And just because you can dribble a ball doesn't mean you can accuse my friend of being a pervert!"

I tugged at Laura's arm, desperate to end this humiliating scene. "Laura, please, let's just go. I really am sorry," I added, glancing at Jeremy, whose expression remained stony.

"You should be sorry," he said coldly. "And you should watch where you're going next time."

As Laura and I retreated down the hallway, her arm protectively around my shoulders, I could feel Jeremy's eyes burning into my back. My carefully constructed anonymity had just gone up in flames, and somehow, I'd managed to make an enemy of the most influential student in school on my way down.

"Don't worry about him," Laura whispered fiercely. "He's just a jerk with an ego the size of Jupiter."

But I did worry. Because in that moment, I knew that my quiet, invisible existence at Westlake High had just become considerably more complicated.