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I turn to the redhead. “Hi, I’m Adam.”
I extend my hand. She looks down and grabs it.
“Maya.”
“Nice to meet you.”
The girl with all the tattoos is digging through her bag on the floor, so I look at the blonde next, reaching my hand out as I stand.
“Adam. What’s your name?”
She smiles wide and shakes my hand. “I’m Kenna! So nice to meet you, Adam.”
She sits down and looks at Levi. He avoids her gaze and starts unpacking his notebook with shaky hands.
She hesitates for a minute but then extends her hand in view of his downturned face. He swallows and looks up, finally grasping her outstretched hand a second too late.
“I’m Kenna. What’s your name?” she asks him sweetly.
Levi is the most socially awkward out of the four of us. He’s an only child and uncommonly intelligent. His parents isolated him to study for up to ten hours a day.
“Levi,” he responds quietly. He looks at her face for a split second before returning to his book, cheeks stained.
I have no doubt that he’s never spoken to a girl he wasn’t raised with. His only friends besides me and the guys are his books.
I turn back to the other girl. She’s looking down at her notes.
I clear my throat. “Hey, I’m Adam.”
She lifts her head up. Pale blue eyes that remind me of the color of the gas flame pouring from a burner meet my gaze. Her deep ruby-red lips are overly plump. I remember my mother telling me that red lipstick is for “women of the night.” I hope she’s not one of those because she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ve been unable to stop staring at her since she sat in front of me in my first class of the day.
She’s the first woman I’ve seen with tattoos. I know it’s sinful to mark your body up, but I still wish I could touch her skin and see what it feels like with all that ink.
“Harley.” Her voice is unexpectedly raspy.
I have to take a breath when I realize I like the sound of it—a lot. To avoid looking like a total starstruck moron, I get out my notebook for horticulture. I notice she’s using the one she had in class.
“I’ve never heard that name before. Do you know where it comes from?” I ask her, the words barely making it past the lump of nerves.
She keeps her eyes on the notebook as she replies, “Yeah, my birth mom said I was conceived on a Harley-Davidson behind a 7-Eleven.”
I try to control my outward reaction at her admission, remaining completely still, even as my neck heats. This is the first time I’ve ever heard someone reference fornication so casually. Is she being serious? Parents don’t name their kids after motorcycles, do they?
Laughter breaks out between us as I see Maya, the redhead, with her head thrown back in hysterics. After about thirty seconds, she regains composure.
“Wow, you’re a trip, Scary Barbie,” she says.
I feel like she’s being mean, but I’m not sure since I thought they were friends.
Kenna speaks up from across the table, “I think it’s beautiful, and it really suits you.” Her voice is kind and reassuring. “I bet your mom just made that up as a joke. What did your dad say?”
Harley looks up at her and smiles. “Nah, she was serious. My birth dad was just a random trucker.”
The entire room is buried in silence. I’m speechless. I’ve never met someone with a past like this. There’s a sick feeling in my gut when I look at her face and realize she isn’t making this up. What kind of a life did that create for her?
Levi is staring a hole into his chemistry book. I doubt he even needs to look at it. He’s been flipping through and memorizing the pages since he got it on the first day. He has a photographic memory with a brain function in line with the smartest minds in the world.
I look back over at her. “I’m sorry you never got to meet your dad,” I say softly.
