Silently I kicked and punched, trying to bite at the muscle-bound cloud of Axe body spray that was dragging me into the dark corner behind the door. The space smelled like weed, floor cleaner, and teenage hormones. None of the reasons some rando might want to drag me there would end well for me. But if I made too much noise, one of the admin staff would likely come out and give me detention or something. Because it was always Kelsey's fault. 'She's troubled', they'd say while they hustled me off to lock-down and let the jock boy walk free.

"Jesus! Stop biting. That shit's gross!"

Strong arms locked me in place, my backside to his front. I'd seen the popular kids hugging this way and for a flash of a second, I understood the appeal. Then I came to my senses and tried a backward head-butt. The jerk was too tall. All I managed was to bounce my head off of his chest. I slumped in defeat and to my surprise, he let go, but only long enough to spin me around. His meaty paws landed on my shoulders.

Perfectly tousled caramel blonde hair framed a lean jawline and stormy blue eyes. Football tee over low-slung Abercrombie jeans. Oh yeah, he was varsity. My gaze snagged on his shoes, twins to my own. Then he spoke in a low tenor rumble, dragging my attention back to his face.

"Kelsey. You're Kelsey Mator, right?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"My mom wanted to tell you," he began.

"Your mom?" I tried to raise an eyebrow in disbelief, like Mr. Spock from Star Trek.

"Dr. Edith Preston. Your orthodontist. And mine, as well as being my mom." He flashed a perfect, practiced smile at me.

"I can't afford it anymore," I replied.

I looked down at his worn Converses and wondered again why a guy who could afford expensive jeans would wear old shoes. I had my reasons, but what were his?"

"Mom wanted you to know that she wants you to finish your treatments whether you can finish the payment plan or not. She said not to let anyone see me talking to you about it because she knows," he took a deep breath and paused.

"That I won't take charity?" I finished for him.

"It's not charity, Kelsey. It's self-interest. You're so close to being done and if all her hard work on your janky teeth goes to shit now, it will reflect poorly on her. My mom's nice, but don't think she ever does anything without considering the bottom line."

He let go of my shoulders and tried to take a step back, his face a mask of casual indifference. There was no room in the tiny space for such a retreat. He thumped against the wall but quickly recovered and did a kicked back casual pose that wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of a magazine. I took the opportunity to bolt for freedom. Strong fingers snagged my wrist.

"Not so fast, Kel. Here's your next appointment card." He forced the rectangle of gray cardboard into my hand before letting go again.

I gave a defeated sigh and looked at the appointment. Thursday at 8 am. Shit. That was tomorrow. I guessed I would just have to sneak out early to make it. As long as Mary Beth or my foster mom didn't catch me, it could be okay. And my retainer did need to be adjusted.

"You could say thank you," he muttered as we exited the tiny hidy hole.

Last bell sounded, jarring me back to reality. Both of us needed to be in the band room asap. I didn't know his name, but I knew him. From the trombone line.

"Or didn't your parents teach you any manners?" he said, his eyebrows pulling together into a scowl as we hurried down the hall together.

I whirled on him and punched him in the arm, hard. "Don't you dare talk about my mom that way."

"Kaiden."

"What?"

"It's Kaiden. You say, 'thank you, Kaiden'." he said in a falsetto that I had to admit did sound a bit like me.

"Thank your mom for me, Kaiden," I said, flashing him the most sarcastic smile I could manage while stretching out the syllables of his name in a deliberate imitation of the popular girls' saccharine drawls.

"God. They said that you were a smartass, but that really smarts. Touche, lady. Touche!"

He hurried away since he had an instrument to unpack. One advantage of being on the drumline is that our equipment didn't get packed between every practice. I watched him scurry down the hall, tight jeans showcasing his football muscles just right. But the thing that kept my attention were those shoes of his. The ones just like mine, right down to the hole by the left little toe. They reminded me of something my mom used to talk about. Her favorite silly word. Kismet.

*&*

this section dedicated to ladysapphire2018, for being one of the most awesome people I know on Wattpad.