Axl always saw Cassie as his sister's annoying friend. But one school year, they find themselves unexpectedly drawn to each other. As they try to navigate their feelings towards each other, Cassie can't help but feel she's betraying her best friend...
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Cassie walks through the hallway, her eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of her friends. The sea of student's parts momentarily, and she spots Axl up ahead, his towering frame cutting a path through the throng as he heads to the locker room for practice. He's in his element here, his letterman jacket thrown over one broad shoulder, a swagger in his step that says 'I own this place'. She rolls her eyes and quickens her pace, hoping to catch up to him before he disappears into the sea of jocks and sports equipment.
"Hey, Axl!" she calls out, her voice barely audibles over the din of the hallway. He turns, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What do you want?"
"We've got to talk about that project," she says, her voice firm. "I'm not letting you just coast through this one."
Axl's smirk widens. "Listen, if I kiss you and give you five bucks, will you do it yourself?" he asks, his tone as smooth as the gel he slicks through his hair every morning.
Cassie's eyes narrow, and she clenches her fists. "Keep your dirty disease mouth to yourself," she snaps. The words fly out of her mouth like a whip, and she doesn't miss the way his smug expression falters for a split second before it's back to the usual cocky smirk.
"Look, I've got practice. We'll talk about it later," Axl says, turning away from her and walking towards the locker room. Cassie's jaw clenches as she watches him disappear into the crowd. She turns around and starts to walk home, her thoughts racing. She can't believe she's stuck with him for this project.
The moment she opens the door to the Heck's house; she's hit with a wall of sound. Frankie and Mike are in the kitchen, their voices rising and falling in a heated argument that's punctuated by the occasional slam of a cupboard door. She can't make out what they're saying, but the tension is as thick as the smoke from a barbecue.
When she goes into the kitchen, she's met with a scene that's all too familiar: Frankie and Mike are standing in front of the fridge, their faces red with frustration, while Axl stands in the center of the room, his hands spread out in a 'what did I do?' gesture. His shirt is half-tucked in, his hair sticking up randomly like he's been running his hands through it.
"You think you're some big shot just because you play ball?" Mike asks, his voice rising above the clatter of dishes. "Go to your room."
"Whatever." Axl grumbles, stalking off down the hall, his footsteps heavy with anger. He slams his bedroom door shut, the sound reverberating through the house like a gunshot.
"Hi Cassie," Frankie says, turning to her with a tired smile. "Sue's not here yet. She's still at school for show choir rehearsal."
"That's okay," Cassie says, her eyes flicking to the ceiling where Axl's door is. "I'm actually here to see Axl. We have a project for school."
Frankie nods, understanding the unspoken message. She leans in close and whispers, "Good luck with that," before turning to Mike. Together, they retreat to the living room, leaving Cassie standing in the kitchen with the weight of her mission heavy on her shoulders.
With a deep breath, Cassie heads down the hallway. She pauses outside Axl's door, listening to the muffled sounds of his frustration. She can hear him moving around his room, the thud of something heavy hitting the floor, followed by a string of curses. She knows she should just leave him be, but she's not one to back down from a challenge.
She knocks firmly on the door. "Axl, I need to talk to you," she says, her voice steady. There's a moment of silence before the door swings open. Axl stands there, his face flushed and his eyes stormy. "Look, I don't have time for your crap," he says, his voice a low growl.
Cassie holds up a hand to stop him. "And I don't want a bad grade," she says, her voice firm. "So, sit down." There's a beat where they stand there, glaring at each other. Then, with a dramatic sigh that says 'fine', Axl turns and flops onto his bed.
Cassie sits down at his desk, her back straight and her eyes focused. "We need to come up with a topic," she says, her pen poised over the open notebook. Axl throws a pillow at her. It hits the back of her head with a soft thump.
"You know what? You're the one who wants to do well in this," he says, his voice filled with a surprising amount of bitterness. "Why don't you come up with something?"
Cassie turns to face him, her eyes serious. "Look, I don't want to do this project any more than you do," she admits, her voice softer than before. "But I'm here because I care about my grades, and I don't want to let anyone down." Axl's expression falters for a moment, and she sees a flicker of something in his eyes. Maybe he understands. Or maybe he's just confused by the sudden drop in hostility.
He flops back on the bed; his arms folded behind his head. "What do you want to do, then?" he asks, his tone begrudgingly curious.
Cassie looks around the room, her eyes scanning the sports trophies and posters of scantily clad models that cover Axl's walls. "Why don't we do something about how school activities affect our schoolwork?" she suggests, her voice a mix of hope and challenge.
Axl snorts. "That's boring," he says, but there's a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
"It doesn't have to be," Cassie insists. "We could interview students and teachers, maybe even do a survey. It'll be like an undercover investigation."
Axl considers this for a moment before sitting up, his curiosity piqued. "Alright, fine. But only if we can make it interesting. Like, we could do it like one of those reality TV shows."
"Perfect," Cassie says with a smirk. "You can be the host, and I'll be the producer."
Cassie starts scribbling down ideas into her notebook, her pen moving at a breakneck pace. The pages fill with bullet points and half-formed thoughts, each one more ridiculous than the last. The room is a whirlwind of creativity and chaos, a stark contrast to the neat and orderly environment she's used to. She glances up at Axl, who's now leaning against his bed, his arms folded over his chest as he watches her with a bemused expression.
"How's this?" she asks, holding up the notebook with a flourish. The pages are crinkled and smudged from her fervent writing, but she's proud of the ideas she's managed to jot down.
Axl walks over and leans against the desk, peering over her shoulder. "Looks fine," he says, his voice a gruff rumble that sends a shiver down her spine. Cassie looks up and that's when their eyes meet.
"Cassie!" Sue's voice echoes through the hallway, light and filled with excitement. It's like a balloon popping in the quiet room, breaking the tension. Axl breaks eye contact and goes back to his bed, his shoulders slumping. He flops down, his feet dangling over the side.
The door to the bedroom bursts open, and Sue comes bounding in, her cheeks flushed with joy. "Guess what?" she asks, her eyes wide and bright.
Cassie looks up from her notebook, her eyebrows raised in question. "What?" she repeats, her voice echoing with surprise.
Sue's smile is so wide it seems to split her face in two. "I made it into show choir!" she squeals, throwing her arms around Cassie in a tight hug. The joy in her voice is like a bubble of happiness that floats up to the ceiling and pops, showering the room in confetti.
Cassie laughs and hugs her back. "That's amazing, Sue!" she exclaims, her voice genuinely thrilled. She pulls away and looks at her best friend, noticing the way Sue's eyes sparkle. "You're going to be great."
