Fake Skating(15)

But as I walked over, I couldn’t help but notice the massive amount of hockey… enthusiasm decorating every surface of the school’s interior.

It was ridiculous.

An enormous poster of the school’s hockey team hung from the rafters of the high ceiling, and posters of individual players were slapped up all over the walls. I understood school spirit, but it was laughable that a bunch of high school boys were taped up all over the place like they were actual celebrities.

I opened the office door, only to see even more hockey signage inside the bustling administrative area.

IT’S PACKER GAME DAY!!

Calm down, people.

“Can I help you?” asked the woman behind the desk, who was holding a phone up to her ear.

“Hi, um, my name is Dani Collins, and I’m new. It’s my, um, my first day,” I stammered.

“Well, good morning, Dani,” she said with a big smile, her tone laced with familiarity, like she’d been expecting me. “You’re a little early, so if you want to take a seat in one of the chairs, I imagine Cassie will be here in the next ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Cassie?” I asked, wondering if I was supposed to know who that was.

“The student who’ll be showing you around,” she explained. “You’ll love her—Cassie’s a doll.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. “Good.”

“She knows everyone and everybody loves her, so she’ll be a great point of contact for you.”

“Awesome,” I said, nodding again.

I sat on one of the chairs and looked out the office window, where it was getting busy in the hallway.

Students yelling to each other, groups walking together… God, I hated it so much.

Because on day one, there was no way to know who the threats were.

The group of four girls who were laughing, with their pretty hair and perfect teeth? At this moment, they looked harmless.

Nice, even.

But they could actually be the girls capable of making someone’s life hell.

My life.

And the same went for guys. The four dudes standing by the trophy case, smiling and looking cute—they could either be nice guys, or the ones with the potential to ruin everything.

There was no way to know, no warning signal to give you a hint of danger.

A group of dudes in hockey jerseys walked by, strolling down the hall like they were icons. They walked past the multiple banners with their own images on them, moving like they ruled the world.

Which wasn’t shocking after the hockey-themed dinner Saturday night.

It was clearly the culture.

Still… spare me.

To be fair, I knew that I was prejudiced when it came to jocks. It was wrong to judge an entire group of humans by the actions of a few, but over the years, it’d been my experience that the overconfidence that accompanied athletic successes created narcissistic social monsters.

If mean girls were a thing (and they were), then cocky jocks were even worse.

Because they wielded ridiculous amounts of power.

A jock could offhandedly say “the new girl is hot,” and even if he meant it in a complimentary way, it just led to all his friends feeling the need to contribute their opinions as well.

No she’s not.

She looks like a bitch.

Her nose is weird.

Those nerdy glasses, though, come on.

“Just breathe,” I told myself, trying to keep the anxiety at bay.

Watching the hockey players strut down the hall, I noticed another huge banner hanging from above. This one was strung all the way across the common area, and it had an image of the back of a hockey player on it, the name ZEUS stretched across the broad shoulders.

Ridiculous.

I took another deep breath, slowly inhaling through my nose.

Everything is going to be fine.

As if on cue, a girl with long brown hair walked into the office. She was wearing black leggings and a black SOUTHVIEW HOCKEYcrewneck, and she went straight for the secretary.

“There you are, Cassie,” the woman said. “This is Dani.” She gestured toward me and added, “Dani, this is Cassie.”

Cassielooked over and smiled like she was happy to see me, which was better than her looking irritated, I supposed.

Of course, it was also my experience that the student who volunteered to show new kids around was usually either (A) a genuinely nice person who liked their extracurriculars, or (B) a control freak who was insane about their extracurriculars.

Hopefully she was the former.

“Hi,” she said with a grin. “Do you have your schedule yet?”

“Yes, they emailed it to me,” I said, gesturing toward my pocket like she would somehow know my phone was there.

“Same, and I’m in awe of the way you’re taking AP and honors everything,” she said. “By the way, I love your sweater—it’s very Harry Burns rolling out the rug with Sally while discussing dating.”

“Thank you,” I said, wanting to smile at the reference but knowing it was better to keep my mouth shut.

Because another important rule?

Don’t share personal information with the volunteer who shows you around on your first day.No matter how nice they might seem, you don’t know where they fit into the school’s social hierarchy.

One minute you could be sharing with someone you think is friendly how When Harry Met Sally is still your comfort-watch, only to discover two days later that she mockingly told all her friends that you are a loser who still watches old rom-coms with your mother on DVD.