Page 1 of Love in Development

Chapter 1

The squat cement brickbuilding could have been a school anywhere—unlike my old school, which had character—and the metal bike racks out front were easy to find.I locked my bike.Not that anyone would want the hunk of junk.

A boy with dark hair and a sunny smile looked like he was about to speak to me, and I turned my back.I didn’t need to get distracted on a side quest like that.Maybe I would make a friend or two, like Mom wanted me to, but not with a good-looking boy.That was just asking for trouble.

Get your head in the game, Molly.

The noise level of the students greeting each other for the first time since summer already had me wishing for my headphones.I needed to avoid the mobs today.Like a video game, high school was full of random hostile attacks.And—as if the mere thought brought the mean girls out—a group of short-skirted, cleavage-showing, hair-flipping Barbie dolls pushed past me.

One wearing enough makeup to start her own theater company turned and folded her arms under her breasts, which threatened to escape from her scrap of a shirt.“Did you just get in my way?”

“Sorry.”I hoped to just smooth everything out and make nice.The last thing I wanted was to start a fight on my first day.

“My skin is delicate.I bruise easily.”

Of course you do.“It’s very crowded, isn’t it?Nice to meet you.”I offered a smile, forcing it into my eyes.I had to make the rude girl believe me, yet I wouldn’t fawn.

“Are you serious?”Barbie stepped in and pushed my shoulder.

I wasn’t ready and stumbled back, tripping, and thankful for the jean jacket that took the brunt of the fall on my elbows.I looked up from the pavement just as one of the Mean Girls cohorts laughed and scooped up the conveniently dropped bag.A trap.I’d fallen for it...literally.

“You should watch where you’re going.”

Her smug smile reminded me of the teeth of a succubus.I felt the urge to hack her down with a sword.Instead, I stood and dusted off my worn blue jeans and ignored the sting in my forearms.

Barbie spun away, then stopped in her tracks.

“What’s going on here?”To go with the stereotypical Mean Girls, a stereotypical gym teacher stalked over, blowing her whistle, ready to take someone down.She was all muscle, clad in sweats, and hair in bun.

In my experience, teachers wanted to be fair, and that usually meant punishing everyone.Just like at home.First Mom and Dad with their constant arguments, now this.Why did I always have to be the grown-up?I looked up to the morning sun for help I knew wasn’t coming and released a sigh.The warm air gathered on my forehead in a sheen of sweat.Could things get any worse?

Barbie looked over her shoulder in anger, likely as frustrated by the presence of a teacher as I was.She flipped her hair again and turned slightly back but crossed her arms as if readying for a fight.

I’d take all the blame if I didn’t do something fast.I grinned.“Thanks for your concern.I’m just clumsy.”

Barbie’s look turned to confusion.Satisfaction rolled through me.

The gym teacher—radar diffused for the moment—nodded and walked away to go get into someone else’s business.

Barbie and her friends glared, but a fresh wave of students separated us.I was safe—for the moment.

A soft lip-smacking came from behind me, followed by a voice used to being obeyed.“I saw what you did.”

I adjusted my bag before turning to the new threat.

So far, my day was off to a roaring start.So much for Mom’s directive to make friends.“I don’t know what you mean.”

The girl in front of me had no-nonsense, straight black hair: shoulder-length and parted on the left side.She wore a gray T-shirt displaying a square filled with white sheep.Outside the box was a single black one.She wore distressed black jeans and biker boots with studs.The tough look was a little thrown off by the bright pink lollipop that she slipped back into her mouth—the source of the lip smacking.

I couldn’t afford another confrontation before I had even signed in.Mom would never forgive me.I turned, sheathing my imaginary sword, and flowed with the rest of the student body through the double doors into the building.

“Stephanie is now gunning for you,” the lollipop girl said.

So, Barbie was Stephanie.I was close.They rhymed.I’d remember her name.“I just want to fly under the radar and get my senior year over with.”

“I’ve never gotten along with her either.But you won’t make it without some protection,” she said.

I stuttered to a halt.There was no way to read any of the signs through the bodies packed like sardines.Protection?Was Lollipop Girl the school version of the mob here?And who would protect me when I lowered my shield, only to be betrayed?I tried not to think of RogueStriker and the knife he’d twisted in my back.This was real life, not a game.