Kissing the Skater Boy: Hidden Shores Academy: Hidden Shores Academy

By Christina Herrera

It all started at our small private school, Hidden Shores Academy, on the first day. The new kid was texting as he came down the stairs. His longboard slipped out of his fingers, smacking me right in the face.

His first reaction should have been to check if I was okay, but no, his gut instinct told him to check and see how his precious board survived the attack.

Of course, he ended up in almost all my classes.

No matter what I do, he keeps finding ways to talk to me.

But I'm not interested in him. I'm trying to stay focused on my position as head editor of my high school's newspaper.

I have dreams to chase. I'm applying for a Journalism scholarship. I don't have time for a know-it-all boy like Justin.

Besides, I had a boyfriend before. It didn't end well.

The last thing I want is more drama, and I can tell by the smug grin on the skater boy's face that he's full of it.

He may be my worst enemy, but there's something about the way he hasn't given up on me that makes me wonder if he's not that bad after all.

 

If you like sweet and wholesome romance, then look no further!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina Herrera
• Release date: Aug 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223471493

Book preview

Chapter 1

McKayla

It was just my luck when a skateboard fell out of nowhere and smacked me in the face. Books flew from my arms, scattering and rolling down the stairs ahead of me. My head throbbed with pain, and blood dripped from my nose. Through blurred vision, I saw a guy with wavy brown hair hurrying down the stairs, but instead of coming to my rescue, he stepped past me.

He snatched up the skateboard and clutched it with a pained expression. Aw man, I got a scratch on my new board.

I fought the urge to kick him down the stairs. The punk had thrown his skateboard at me and didn’t care how I survived the attack. Do you usually drop your skateboard on innocent bystanders trying to get to class?

He looked up at me and gasped, noticing me for the first time. Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

If it wasn’t for you and your stupid skateboard, I’d be fine. Okay, so maybe that was a little harsh, but he seriously needed to be more careful.

Technically, it’s a longboard. There’s a big difference. It has bigger wheels, and it’s better for going down hills. He smirked. Get your facts straight.

Something about the smug look on his face enraged me. He was taunting me. I’m so sorry if I offended you, I replied sarcastically, searching for a tissue to stop the blood from running. I’m a little out of it at the moment, considering you just tried to knock me out with your precious board.

My bad, he said, biting his lip. I was texting, and the board slipped out of my hands.

You shouldn’t be texting at school.

School hasn’t started yet, so I think I’m good.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Actually, you’re not good. Your skateboard smacked me in the face.

He rolled his eyes. Was it really that bad? He took a step closer and examined me, noticing the blood for the first time. Wow, it’s worse than I thought. You should go see the nurse.

No. I’ll be fine.

Let me at least help pick up your things.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he had already grabbed up a few books. He flipped through one of my notebooks and asked with a grin, You’re in Journalism?

Yes, I’m the editor. I snatched my binder away from him. Not that it’s any of your business.

He put his hands up in defense. Sorry, I was just trying to help.

Don’t worry about it. You’ve done enough already, I said.

He turned to walk in the opposite direction and said over his shoulder, Whoa, Okay. I’ll see you later?

I glared at him. Whatever.

He laughed as he descended the stairs. I couldn’t stand that guy. Who was he, anyway? I was surprised I hadn’t seen him before, considering Hidden Shores Academy was a small private school in California where most of the student body knew every detail of each other’s lives.

I ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I examined my reflection and grimaced at the fiery red splotches around my nose. I ran my hand through my natural curls, only to watch it frizz up even more.

The bell rang.

Great, I muttered. It’s the first day of school, and that skater boy is going to make me late for class.

I found the correct room and plopped into a seat just before the teacher started talking.

Good morning,. I’m Mrs. Allen. Welcome to Algebra Two. We’ll be going over—

The door clicked open, and the same boy who tried to break my nose walked in. I heard giggling and looked back. Most of the girls behind me had their mouths gaping open, practically drooling all over themselves. I couldn’t blame them though. Even if he did chuck his longboard at me, I had to admit, he was undeniably the most attractive guy in the room.

Everyone, meet our new student, Justin Byford. Mrs. Allen turned to face him. Why don’t you tell us something about yourself?

Justin shot the class a coy smile. I spend all my time longboarding. It’s basically my life.

That’s what’s up! A guy with black, wavy hair called out and gave him a nod of approval.

The class continued talking about longboarding until Mrs. Allen called out, Listen up, Justin hasn’t told us where he’s from yet.

He leaned against the wall and dug his hands into his pockets. I’m from Los Angeles. I moved here last weekend.

Mrs. Allen smiled and clasped her hands against her petite frame, her hair just brushing her shoulders. We’re glad to have you in San Diego. Have a seat, Justin.

Of course, he sat directly in front of me. What were the odds?

The same guy who affirmed him earlier turned to face Justin. ’Sup. I’m Brett.

Hey, man, Justin said, pressing his knuckles on Brett's.

How long have you been boarding? Brett asked.

I started when I was fourteen, so it’s been two years now.

That’s sick. How many boards do you have?

I have two Orangutans. Justin smiled proudly as if owning a longboard was some huge accomplishment.

A look of shock came across Brett’s face. Whoa, aren't those expensive?

Justin shrugged. I guess. They're about three hundred bucks each.

Before he opened his mouth, I thought he was attractive. Now he sounded completely arrogant.

Why on earth would anyone spend that much money on a piece of wood with wheels? I said to myself, thinking they couldn’t hear me.

Apparently, I was wrong. Because Justin turned around and shot me another smile. Skill can only get you so far with a lame board. If you want to be the best, you’ve got to have the best.

He's right, Brett added. But it goes way deeper than that. Skating is only you and your board. You can't depend on anything other than those two things, so it makes sense that if you want to be the best, you have to have solid equipment.

I rolled my eyes. I would never understand their obsession with skating. I tuned them out and opened my math book, thumbing through the pages. I’d rather get ahead in Algebra than listen to them bragging.

Mrs. Allen turned to the board. Let's get started.

Justin looked back at me and smiled like something was funny.

Was it my hair? I ran my fingers through my dark waves, trying to calm down the frizz. Then he did something that infuriated me.

He smiled even wider.

What’s his problem?

I stared him down until he finally turned around.

When the teacher finished lecturing, she gave us some time to do our work. As I concentrated on a complicated equation, there was a tap-tap-tapping on my desk. I glanced up to see the new kid smiling at me.

I shot him a death glare.

What could he possibly want this time?

What is it? I snapped.

Do you have a sec? I’m stumped on problem three.

There was something about his eyes that caught me off guard. They were dark brown, with a fleck of gold that shone in the fluorescent lighting. My heart skipped a beat.

I took a deep breath and paused to pull myself together. Yeah, sure. Hopefully he couldn't detect the shakiness in my voice.

I wrote out the equation step-by-step. Does that make sense?

It makes perfect sense. He smiled and gave me a nod. You’re really good at math.

My cheeks were on fire. I couldn’t let this smooth-talking longboarder get to me. I knew men were cheaters and untrustworthy. Plus, I wasn’t about to forget the way he carelessly dropped his skateboard and then rushed to see if it was okay, instead of me. Since when were longboards more important than human beings, anyway?

…what's your name? he asked.

McKayla Hamilton.

So. He paused to grin. Can I get your number?

Glancing nervously around the room, I realized no one else was talking, and everyone was looking at us. There was no way he was getting my number. I didn’t want a man in my life right now. Especially not one as forward as him. Are you kidding me? We just met, and you’re already asking for my number?

His smile grew cocky. Yeah. I am.

Who does this guy think he is? I don't really give out my number.

He put his hands up in defense. Okay, I totally understand. I just wanted to check in on you later and make sure you’re all right, you know, since I hit you with my board and all... He shrugged, and I met his eyes for a split second. Scratch that. Maybe talking to you in person would be better. Want to do something after school?

I shook my head. I have Journalism.

Couldn't you skip? he asked in a hopeful voice.

No, I'm the head editor. I have a life. Plus, I’m in charge.

His eyes slid over the length of my body before resting on my face. I can see that...

The bell rang, I picked up my books and started to walk away.

Wait, where are you going?

I turned around and lifted an eyebrow. To class.

He grinned and followed me into the hall. Where’s that?

American History.

His smile increased about three sizes. That's my next class, too.

I rolled my eyes. Perfect.

He caught up to me. Why are you so harsh?

Why are you such a flirt? I don’t want to be a notch on his belt. Women threw themselves at my dad because he was so attractive, and I saw how that worked out.

Touché.

Chapter 2

Justin

Ifollowed McKayla down the hall into American History. Her wavy brown hair swayed. I tried to hide my smirk as her hips moved side to side in perfect sync. It looked like she was a good foot shorter than me, although her attitude definitely made up the difference.

I had a feeling the people in San Diego were going to take some getting used to—not to mention McKayla. The way she kept rejecting me only made me want to get her attention more.

She was different from the girls at my old school. She seemed like she could hold her own in an argument. I was used to girls falling all over me just because I flashed them a smile. Back in the day, I even had a fan club, and random girls wrote love poems and stuck them in my locker. It wasn’t like I did anything worthy to deserve a fan club. I guess girls naturally found me attractive.

This girl gave me a whole new challenge, and I was ready to conquer.

I watched her as she walked in and took a seat in the front of the classroom. I snagged a seat directly behind her, again. She wrote something in a notebook, but I couldn't see what it was. I tapped her on the shoulder and nodded. Hey, how's it going?

Are you ever going to give up?

What’s your problem? I’m just being friendly.

More like annoying.

I put my hands up in defense. Fine, I won’t bother you anymore.

She turned back without a single word. I had a feeling most guys didn't waste their time on her, but I was convinced she only needed to loosen up. She seemed way too uptight.

My thoughts were interrupted by the teacher starting class. He was a short man with white hair and owlish glasses that took up most of his face. What year did the Civil War start?

I shot my hand up. 1861.

He raised his eyebrows. That’s correct.

McKayla turned around. She looked surprised, but happy at the same time. I was pleased to see that she was finally being nice to me. Maybe I needed to prove to her that I could be an intellectual and not just some jerk trying to hit on her. I didn't quite understand why answering a question right would earn an approving smile from her.

Why did girls have to be so complicated?

At the same time, there was a flicker of hope that I could have a chance with her.

Class continued, and I kept answering questions correctly.

At the end of the hour, McKayla turned around and said, Wow, you really know your stuff.

My mouth curved upward into a halfway smile. Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm into watching the History channel, and I love studying the Civil War.

Right when I was getting lost in her dark brown eyes, someone said, McKayla, what are you doing talking to this punk?

I glanced up and saw a guy the size of a linebacker with bleached blonde hair. He’d only said a few words, and I already didn’t like him.

I could tell he was a jerk just by looking at the scowl on his face. Anger raged through my body, and I had to tell myself to calm down.

She opened her mouth to respond, but I cut her off by saying, Hey, man, is there a problem?

Yeah, there’s a problem. I don’t want you talking to my girl.

McKayla turned around and asked in a furious voice, "Excuse me, Asher? Your girl?"

Yeah, he replied, balling up his hands. That’s right.

She let out a frustrated sigh. Listen, we’re about as over as this class because we’re history.

Oh, snap! I leaned back in my chair, covering my mouth with my hand to hide a smirk. Dude, you just got burned.

He pointed at me. If you don’t watch it, new kid, I’m gonna—

McKayla lifted a challenging brow. You’re gonna what? Beat him up? Being a bully is not attractive.

My mouth fell open. She was sticking up for me? I thought she wasn’t interested at all.

Asher rolled his eyes. Whatever.

And with that, he pushed the books off my desk and stalked off.

What on earth? Why did this guy act like he owned her? And where did he get off thinking he could throw my stuff around like that? I was tempted to get up and show him what I was made of, but it was my first day here. My parents would flip if I got sent to the principal’s office already.

I waited until he was out of earshot. What’s his problem?

We broke up before school started. I think he’s still kind of bitter.

Yeah, I’ll say, but don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you. I smiled as I picked up my books.

Thank you. I’m so glad I have your forgiveness, she said, sarcastically.

Why did you break up?

It’s none of your business.

For some reason, I felt like I was right back where I started. What I do I have to do, to get this girl to like me? For now, I decided to walk away. Lunch was next, and I needed to find someone to sit with. The first day in a new school could be lonely.

Chapter 3

McKayla

Isearched the room for my bestie, Haley. We had been inseparable since we learned to walk. Although I had transferred to a different school for a couple of years and then transferred back, we still got together almost daily.

It was a little scary stepping into the lunchroom, but I went in anyway. I spotted Haley sitting by herself, twisting her long blonde hair between her fingers and grinning.

She met my eye, and I gave her a short wave. I crossed the room and took a seat next to her.

Hey, have you seen the new guy? Haley asked.

So, maybe she wasn’t as excited to see me as I thought. Her enthusiasm was obviously all about Justin. Yeah. I talked to him.

She looked thoroughly intrigued. You did? What's he like?

He's a little too forward for my taste, I said with a sour expression. If I could keep up my acting skills, maybe Haley would drop the whole Justin thing.

So, in other words, you totally like him, she said as a smile slowly grew.

I felt my face turn red, and my fingers twitched by my side. That's not what I said.

Blowing off my response, Haley headed toward the lunch