The Faker Rulebook - Baylin Crow Page 0,1

I admitted to myself that Rook had gained my interest. There was an air of confidence that hovered around him.

He was also cute, but I shook off the odd thought. Well not so odd, but I wasn't ready to consider what that meant yet.

Mrs. Bradshaw stood before the whiteboard that stretched across the front of the room. "Let's talk about eye color."

As she spoke, it quickly became clear that I had no idea what they were working on. The lesson was on genetics, and we hadn't reached that part of the curriculum at my old school.

Forty-five minutes later, I was relieved when the final bell rang.

"We have a quiz on Friday, so review the last two chapters and come prepared." She spoke over the rustling of students shuffling around, preparing to leave.

I stifled a groan at the mention of a quiz and stuffed my book in my backpack before slinging the straps over my shoulders.

As the room cleared, Mrs. Bradshaw stopped me as I passed her desk. "Just a minute, Noah."

Crap. I'd completely forgotten she'd wanted to speak to me. Glancing at the clock, I hoped she'd keep it brief. High school let out before middle school, and my brother would be outside waiting for me.

She went over the material and walked me through what I needed to catch up. My gaze strayed to the time again.

She noticed. "I don't want to keep you too long, so if you have any questions or need more instruction, we can set up short-term tutoring."

"Thanks." I took a step back and she nodded.

"Of course. Just let me know."

Once I thanked her again, I hurried through the school, foregoing a stop at my locker.

On my way out, I had to cross the cafeteria to reach the front entrance. Just as I cleared a glass case that took up a chunk of the wall, displaying a variety of trophies, the door to the gym swung open.

I whispered a curse that would have gotten me grounded if my mother was around as I barely stopped in time to avoid slamming into it. Oblivious to the near disaster, a guy jogged out, dressed in black and red basketball shorts with a matching sleeveless practice jersey—the colors of the Blakefield Lions.

The sound of tennis shoes squeaking across the polished floor drew my attention, and I peeked into the vast room lined with slide-out bleachers.

A musky odor lingered in the air, and my gaze quickly swept over the banners with the mascot printed on them that hung from the walls and then down to the gathered basketball team at center court.

My gaze froze on the player standing a head taller than the others, giving me his profile. Rook laughed, and even from where I stood, the husky sound reached my ears. He had an easy, relaxed posture, a basketball hugged between his arm and hip. He lazily shoved a guy away before another round of laughter echoed off the walls.

"Stop standing around and line up!" A loud voice boomed. My history teacher, who clearly held two positions, stepped out onto the court, appearing even more comfortable in athletic gear than he did while lecturing on World History.

The interruption shook me from my curiosity, and I sprinted toward the exit. The chilly December wind slapped my cheeks the second I burst through the doors and scanned the parking lot. Trevor's old gray Explorer idled next to the curb, and he shot me an annoyed look when I popped open the door.

"Sorry. My teacher had to talk to me." I tossed my bag into the backseat and hopped onto the worn cloth seat. My nose wrinkled at the stale scent of fast food coming from the crumpled bags that littered the floorboard as I kicked them away.

"Already in trouble?" he asked and I scoffed.

"Yep, that's me. The rebel." Not even close. I was a rule follower by nature, and the idea of stirring up trouble was like a bitter pill on my tongue. I shut the stiff door and latched my seat belt.

My brother didn't need to know about my other distraction.

Rook. My thoughts, preoccupied by him, were confusing.

Trevor shook his head full of dark strands—a complete contrast to my golden ones—and glanced at me with eyes a darker shade of blue than mine. "I can't wait until you get your own driver’s license."

"Somewhere else to be?" I asked as he pulled away from the school.

He shrugged. "Some guys invited me to come hang out."

I should have known his first day