Flames in the Frost

EMMA

“So, what are your predictions for the new guy?” my best friend Cayla asks as we walk down our school’s hallway toward first period.

“Not sure. He’s from Minnesota, so I’m expecting one of those northern accents. Don’t you know,” I say, exaggerating a midwestern accent poorly. “He’s probably used to the snow we’re having. I’m sure he’ll fit right in,” I reply, grinning at my friend, who is rolling her eyes.

“Your perpetual optimism gets on my nerves sometimes,” she shoots back.

Cayla, with her blonde hair and impressive height, towers at least five inches over me. With her big, round brown eyes and natural beauty, she’s the captain of our high school’s cheerleading squad and president of the debate team.

In contrast, standing at five foot four with brown hair and blue eyes that people have described as shocking, I’ve earned my popularity through athleticism, a love for reading, and my close friendship with the head of the cheer team.

Navigating effortlessly between various social groups, I enjoy a much more diverse circle of friends than Cayla does, which means I see a new student as an exciting, fresh opportunity to grow our friend group.

Sliding into our desks for the first period, we make it just in time for our teacher, Mr. Baker, to close the classroom door and head to the front of the room.

“Good morning, students. Today, we welcome a newcomer who’s recently joined us after transferring to New York from Minnesota.

“Although it’s already three months into the school year, let’s extend our support, help him get acquainted, and offer a warm welcome to our community.

“Everyone, meet Maxwell Preston.” Mr. Baker gestures to his right, revealing a tall, skinny boy that I hadn’t noticed earlier.

Chocolate brown eyes and dark hair frame his tan skin—odd for someone arriving from Minnesota in December.

He stands shyly, eyes glued to the floor as the students murmur among themselves.

Cayla leans over to whisper in my ear, snickering way too loudly, “At least Jax doesn’t have to worry about competition for his position as quarterback.”

I respond to her with an eye roll.

Mr. Baker leads Maxwell to the empty seat to my left and gives him a reassuring thumbs-up.

As he settles into his chair, I shoot him a smile and extend my hand.

“Hi Maxwell, I’m Emma Sage. Welcome to Hickory High School.”

He looks up from beneath his dark lashes, offering a shy smile. “Hi Emma, you can call me Max.”

“You can call me Em. It must be tough to move here during the middle of the school year, let alone around the holidays.

“Is most of your family still back in Minnesota?”

He nods, now making eye contact, allowing me a better look at him.

His brown eyes and the slight stubble of an incoming beard add a boyish handsomeness to his smaller frame.

“Well, I’d like to show you what New York City has to offer. I throw a holiday party at my house every year.

“It’s super laid back. We usually watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, dress in holiday pajamas, and indulge in good food and drinks.

“Would you like to come? It’s next weekend.”

His smile grows broader this time.

“Sure, I’d like that, Em.”

I don’t see Max again after first period. As Cayla and I are heading to lunch, a sharp crack echoes through the hallway.

I round the corner to see Max thrown against the lockers by Tommy Reeves, whose family has gone to Hickory for three generations and who never lets anyone forget it.

Max’s height matches Tommy’s, but his frame is too lean for him to fight back effectively. His bag hits the ground, spilling books, an expensive-looking calculator, and a battered green iPod.

“Nice jeans, Minnesota,” Tommy sneers. “They even have real stores out there in the sticks?” Two of his friends snicker, all of them in their designer clothes and pristine sneakers.

Max straightens, trying to hide how hard he’s breathing. “We have stores,” he manages, the comeback falling flat, but something in his eyes stays defiant.

“What was that? Can’t hear you over that accent.” Tommy grabs his jacket collar, slamming him back against the locker. “Maybe you should go back to whatever cornfield you came from.”

Max’s hands shake slightly, but he doesn’t look away. Won’t give them that satisfaction.

I step forward instinctively, but Cayla grabs my arm. “Emma, don’t. They’ll just make it worse for him if a girl steps in. Trust me—I’ve seen it before.”

They shove him one more time before walking away, deliberately stepping on his scattered belongings. Max stays standing, jaw tight. He doesn’t reach for his things yet, and there’s something in that quiet resistance, that refusal to break, that catches my breath.

“See you in gym class, farmer boy,” Tommy calls back. The threat in his voice is clear.

My heart breaks as Cayla and I keep moving away from the scene, toward our lockers.

“Hey, babe.” My new boyfriend, Jax, throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to his side. I smile up at him. Jax and I started dating two months ago, right at the start of the year.

Star of the football team. Major goof. I’ve known him since grade school.

He can be a little extra—loud, over the top, selective about who he lets into his circle, which isn’t my style—but with me? He’s easy. Hot. Fun. And that’s exactly what I promised myself this year would be about.

Less stress. More fun. Enjoying these last few years of high school before they’re gone.

“Hey, how’s your day going?” I ask.

“Ah, it’s all right. Started out by getting assigned to show some new kid who’s a total loser around, so I pawned him off to Trent.”

I get a sinking feeling. “Oh? What was the new kid’s name?”

“Maxwell.”

I swallow and nod, trying not to show how much it bothers me that Jax pushed Max off to someone else to show around—especially Trent, who I know has a mean streak and a reputation for hazing.

“I see…,” I respond, at war with my emotions.

“Yeah, I heard he ditched him in the boys’ locker room. Hilarious.”

“That’s…that’s not that funny.”

He shoots me a look and then rolls his eyes. “Well, what was really funny was later when we had weightlifting during gym class. I dared him to bench one hundred and forty-five pounds.”

“You…you did what?” I pause in the middle of the hallway outside of the cafeteria, turning to face him now. His arm falls from my shoulder to his side.

“It’s not like I thought he’d actually do it. Kid’s got some pride.”

“That’s so dangerous, Jax. That isn’t just a practical joke.”

“Chill out, Emma. He was fine. Mr. Long ended up stepping in and helping get the weight off when he inevitably dropped it.” He rolls his eyes again and then takes off in the opposite direction. “I’ll catch you after class!”

I stand there in shock, watching him go. Sometimes, I wonder what it is that I see in Jax. He’s wildly attractive, sure, and we have a good time, but oftentimes, he can be a real jerk.

I push open the doors to the cafeteria on a sigh, my eyes scanning the space until they land on the table where Cayla and my other mixed group of friends are eating.

“Hey guys,” I say as I slump into the open seat, feeling defeated and not sure what to do about Max.

Cayla hardly gives me a second glance as she scans the back of a milk carton, probably checking for how much sugar is in it now that she’s on another one of her sugar cleanses.

I crack open my yogurt and lift my eyes at the exact moment that I spot Max entering the cafeteria, looking a lot confused and a little wounded.

“Max! Sit here!” I shout, standing up and waving my arms like a lunatic. A few heads turn in our direction, but I don’t care. I’ve never cared what anyone thinks about me.

His eyes light up when he notices me, and he moves through the crowded space until he’s at our table.

“This chair’s free.” I pat the one that’s next to me with a smile and he sinks into it, looking relieved.

“Thank you.”

Cayla lets out an exaggerated eye roll with a loud huff obviously directed toward Max.

As embarrassment flushes Max’s ears, I turn to him, twisting my body so it’s blocking Cayla from his view.

“Jax told me what happened this morning. That was super messed up of him. I’m so sorry about that. And I’m sorry about what happened in the hallway just now, too.”

Max forces a smile. “You’re dating Jax?” he asks, an obvious look of disappointment across his face.

“Yeah… He isn’t as bad as he seems,” I say, trailing off, though I’m not even sure I believe that anymore after hearing the way he treated Max earlier today. Max nods but avoids eye contact with me as he digs into his sandwich without another word.