Most weekdays, we all piled into the church van and rode to school with Momma, but today I drove so I could leave directly after school to pick up Dad's supplies. My dad was not only the pastor of Middle Fork Church of God, but he was also one of the best tile layers in Kentucky. On the weekends and after school, I helped him. My specialty was mosaics. Perry, my ten-year-old sister, mosaic protégé, and partner in crime, was waiting in Dad's old work truck this morning with a mug full of hot coffee she'd made for me. When Dad bought his new truck, I claimed the twenty-year-old, rusted-out Chevy as my own. It wasn't pretty, but it got me where I needed to go.

Perry, like my dad and I, was an early bird. She preferred going to school early, which almost never happened when she rode with Momma. My mom preferred the pressure of being right on time or a minute or two late rather than being too early and having to wait. Laurel and Whitley, my middle sisters, were both okay with Momma's aversion to "earliness" because it gave them more time to work on their hair. They took the Bible literally about their hair being their glory. It took them a good hour to get ready each morning. Not Perry and me — ponytails and braids were very efficient.

"Come on, slowpoke!" my little sister hollered. The freckles on her nose only made her cuter.

"What's your hurry, girl?" I asked.

"Are you kidding?" She blew out a breath of exasperation. "I just need some peace and quiet from those curling iron queens. Les, I'm sure glad you aren't one of those kinds of girls."

"But I used to know my way around a curling iron," I told her. I could see with my peripheral vision her reach up and touch her braid. We are such similar creatures even though we don't look a thing alike.

Perry gave us time to get earshot away from the house before she looked over at me with her most mischievous grin and said, "Are you ready?" I knew I was being a bad influence, but I felt it was one of the more harmless of my vices. I nodded and gave her a thumbs-up sign. She tuned the radio station to country music and turned the volume as loud as the old truck's AM/FM radio would go. Country music was as taboo in our household as watching television. The only time we were able to watch TV was when we stayed at a friend's house, which wasn't often.

When Blake Shelton's big voice came bellowing over the speakers, Perry actually squealed with reckless abandon. She leaned back and placed both feet upon the dashboard. I smiled when I noticed what looked like a pair of jeans sticking out from underneath her long skirt tail. For the next twenty minutes, life was as good as it got. We drove with both windows down, singing country music at the top of our lungs. When we saw the tip of the school's chimney stack peek through the treetops, we were both disappointed. It had been such a nice ride. No longer were we the daughters of the Holiness pastor but instead just two normal girls riding down the road together.

When Perry opened the truck door to leave, I softly punched her shoulder and said, "Later."

"Later," she said, using her cool voice.

I rolled up my window and waited until I was out of the school's pickup line before I turned the radio volume back up. Becoming engrossed in my thoughts, my mind went to the subject at hand — my future. In less than three months, I would turn eighteen and be a high school graduate. I had no clue what would happen after that. Momma kept trying to press me to make a decision. She wanted me to follow her path and go to her alma mater in Missouri. Dad was fine with me going to the community college and continuing to work with him during my spare time. My sisters' reactions to my dilemma varied. Whitley didn't care where I went as long as she could come visit me. Laurel just wanted my room. And Perry wouldn't even talk about the possibility of me leaving her.

When I tried to picture the twenty-one-year old version of Leslie Lewis, I couldn't conjure her up. I knew I was smart enough to go to college, and based on all my college acceptance letters, they thought so too. While a change of scenery would be nice, I wasn't naive enough to think I'd get the same acceptance other places as I'd found in my hometown. I could envision being the college pariah sitting alone in a dorm room once my new friends found out about our snakes.

When I saw the flashing light announcing I was nearing the school, I realized I couldn't remember anything about my drive after dropping Perry off. Shaking my head from side to side, I tried to push all these thoughts down a rung or two so I could enter school in the right frame of mind. My mind required protection at every level. Since Jeb Seeley's death, I'd become a prisoner in my self-made box, which required me to set some hard rules to follow. My acts of defiance were restricted to wearing jeans, country music, Grey's Anatomy, sarcasm, and extremely limited church attendance — all of which the majority of the Holiness church considered damning enough to send me to an eternity of hellfire. My parents had changed a lot over the last four years. Once they would've been the very ones pointing their fingers at me. I guess now they were just hoping I'd get it together before it was everlastingly too late.

I intentionally passed up the student parking and instead pulled the Chevy into the lot reserved for the staff. Since the old Chevy technically belonged to my mom too, I felt justified parking in the faculty lot — a much shorter walk to the high school building. This wasn't an act of defiance as much as a perk of having a parent on the school's staff. My mom taught music at Appalachian Christian Institute — or as we all called it, ACI. It was a private school for local kids as well as kids who lived in the dormitory. Its remote location at the edge of Leslie County, Kentucky, isolated it from the rest of the world and made it a good place to send unruly students. I'd encountered my fair share of the new punk kids, both boys and girls, trying to earn a spot on the school's rebel list. Whether it was the snakes or my reputation on the basketball court, these new students usually didn't come around, which was okay with me. I was fine hanging out with my two best friends, Beth and Kelsey.

The three of us are the most unlikely of friends, totally different in almost every aspect. In spite of our differences, our friendship works. As soon as I entered the school building, Kelsey was waiting for me. Kelsey Van Hook lives in the dormitory and only sees her mother during holidays. Her dad completely out of the picture, she's more of a thrown-away kid than a troubled one. She doesn't lack for any material thing; her closet is full of the latest styles of hipster clothing and shoes. Her wardrobe isn't what initially drew me to her — she thought it was cool that our family lived with snakes. Starved for a family, she would gladly adopt mine — snakes and all. That sealed the deal for me.

Kelsey was all smiles this morning — too big of a smile to suit me. Something was definitely up. Sporting a three-quarter-length jersey, jeans, and Chuck Taylors, she was dressed casually — a bit too casually. For a girl who liked to stand out, today she looked like any other student. I wasn't sure if I should slow down or speed up. Too late. Her hands were trembling like she'd seen a ghost. "What's wrong? Why are you dressed like that and why are you shaking?"

"Nothing's wrong. On the contrary, everything's right. The stars aligned and everything is perfect at ACI. You're not going to believe it but I just saw the best looking guy I've ever seen in my entire life. I think I'm in love."

I rolled my eyes. "Kels, just last week you said the new boy from Illinois was hot, and he had bad hair and crooked teeth."

"Hey! What's wrong with a Mohawk? Plus, not everyone can afford orthodontia," she defended her opinion. "But I'm telling you, this guy is the real deal. He's model gorgeous not quirky gorgeous.

He's just plain and simple beautiful. You just wait and see. You have gym first period, don't you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Cause I think he's the new basketball coach and gym teacher."

"A good looking gym teacher, that's all ACI needs." I didn't squelch any of my disdain as I said it either.

I watched my friend's face fall in disappointment at my lack of enthusiasm so I tried to appease her a little. "Sorry. I promise to check him out and give you my full review at lunch if that'll make you happy." The corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

We both stopped talking and turned to see who belonged to the footsteps we heard running in our direction. It was Beth. Beth Rudder is a cheerleader and a bona fide beauty queen since she won the title of Miss Leslie County last summer. Although her parents go to the Baptist church, her grandparents are Holiness like my family. She understands me better than most. She's actually one of the few students allowed to come home with me.

"Wait up!" she yelled. Beth was just so darn cute. Her short haircut was bouncing with each step, and her teeth were bright from a distance. "Wait! I've got to show y'all something! Look what I found this weekend." She practically bubbled over with excitement. Taking a deep breath in an effort to contain her effervescence, she proclaimed, "Les. I found the perfect prom dress for you." She started dragging me to one of the benches in the hallway.

Breathe in, one, two, three. I tried to compose myself before speaking. "I told you I'm not going to prom."

Beth cut me off. "It's our senior year, and you are going to prom whether you want to or not. Right, Kels?"

Kelsey looked at me before she answered. The look of death I was giving her wasn't lost on her. "Don't look at me." In surrender, she threw both hands in the air. "I don't want to have ole sourpuss on my bad side and find a snake under my pillow. You're on your own."

Before I could say another word, Beth shoved a folded page she'd torn from a magazine into my hand. It's not that I didn't want to go to prom. It was that I knew how my church felt about prom dresses and dancing in general. Dad already took enough flack because of me, and I didn't want to give him any more headaches. Besides, Brother Seeley, the head elder of the church, would love nothing more than to find a way to discredit him so he could be replaced with a pastor he could control. It also didn't help that he had a vendetta against me — he blamed me for Jeb's death and brought up my wicked ways to the church elders every time he could. So far, the other elders hadn't taken Brother Seeley's bait, but I didn't want to add any more wickedness to my already long list of sins, for my dad's sake.

"Go on, look at it!" Beth demanded.

Not wanting her to throw one of her "only child" tantrums in the middle of the hallway, I slowly unfolded the slick piece of paper and in front of me was the most beautiful gown I'd ever seen. It was floor length with long sleeves — all prerequisites for the Holiness book of fashion. It wasn't a vanity-seeking pastel, but rather a modest yet elegant black. Best yet, it wasn't body hugging but rather loose and flowing. It would even pass Perry's twirl test. She would try on a dress and spin just to see if the dress would twirl just the right way.

Beth knew me like a book. "I knew it. I knew you'd like it."

"Yeah, it's pretty, and my dad would probably be okay with it, but ..."

Beth cut me off. "It's a done deal. I already have it ordered."

"Well, you can just call and cancel it, can't you?" Even to my own ears, my protest sounded weak.

"No cancellation policy."

"You did what? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?"

Kelsey, like part of a wolf pack sensing that the prey was weakening, joined in with Beth, by saying, "It's perfect for you. Your mom and dad will be fine with it."

Part of me wanted nothing more than to get all dolled up and go to prom. Only I knew nothing good could come of me wearing that dress. For the last four years, I'd worn jeans, baggy tops, and a ponytail so as not to draw attention to myself.

"Please, Les. I couldn't bear to go to our senior prom without you." Beth's bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"It's against my better judgment, but since the dress is nonrefundable, I'll talk to my parents tonight. Happy?"

Beth wasn't expecting me to give in so soon. She still had that pouty look on her face until my words sunk in. When it did, she let out a victory war whoop. Then the first bell — a warning bell — rang.

"Oh no, the bell! I haven't even been to my locker yet." I took off sprinting toward the gym with my book bag in tow. Sixty whole seconds to spare before I'd be considered late. I could see the gym door. I was home free. I pulled down on the long bar planning to push my way into my first period class but was stopped in my tracks. The door wouldn't budge. I tried again. Still nothing. Then I began to beat on the door trying to get someone's attention. The second bell sounded its shrill ring. Uh oh. I'm officially late.

Still pounding on the door as hard and fierce as I could, I finally heard someone on the other side. Righteous indignation rose up in me. Why would someone lock that door after the first bell! I was really angry because it wasn't my fault I was late. I had a good ten or more seconds to spare. As soon as I heard the pop of the lock, I came through the door protesting, "I wasn't late. The door was locked and ..." I ran smack dab into a wide and muscular chest that didn't move at all when I hit it. It was like a hitting a rock wall. The wall sure smelled nice though–all spicy and clean. I was five foot eight, and I still had to look up a good foot to see the man's face. That's when my world changed.

I'd never been speechless in my entire life. In those few seconds, my tongue grew so fat it wouldn't flap. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. Kelsey was right. I was looking into the dark eyes of the most beautiful guy I'd ever seen. His short, thick hair was dark and his skin was smooth and tanned. He looked like an Indian warrior without the feathers and face paint. I couldn't see any flaws no matter how hard I tried, and trust me I was close enough to get a very good look.

His voice caused me to quit assessing him. "You're late," the new teacher stated, his tone dry and stern. However, he never attempted to get out of my way. He just stood there with his chest pressed into mine, looking at me as if I had a third eye right in the middle of my forehead.

I managed to step back a couple of steps to have some breathing room. When my senses and my voice returned, I challenged him, "Actually, I wouldn't have been late if the door wasn't locked early." I didn't need any write-ups this close to my graduation, and I was danged if I was going to let this new teacher cost me demerits no matter how good he smelled or looked.

Furthering the distance between us, he moved back a step and said, "From now on, Miss ..." He looked at me to provide a name.

"Lewis. Les Lewis," I told him as I stood to my full height. I didn't want to let him think I was affected by him in any way even though my insides were shaking. Now I understood why Kelsey was shaking earlier.

"From now on, Ms. Lewis, I expect you to be here before the first bell and be dressed by the second bell. Got it?" His voice was stern, but his eyes told a different story — there was a twinkle hidden right beneath the surface.

"Yes. Mister ..."

"I'm Coach Zuzeca."

"Zoo-zetcha?" I pronounced it slowly to make sure I heard him correctly.

"Just call me, Coach Z. It's easier." Now he was all smiles — voice, face and eyes — and he even put his hand out for me to shake.

I reluctantly put my hand into his, fearing he would feel my trembles. The warmth of his naked skin touching mine felt nice too nice. I quickly pulled my hand back to my side and headed toward the dressing room with my eyes looking downward so no one could see the redness of my cheeks.

* * *

I walked around in a fog for the rest of the day. All I could think about were those penetrating eyes. School couldn't let out soon enough. Finally, being safe in my truck and alone with my thoughts, I felt like banging my head against the glass window. The facade I'd created could've all come crumbling down today. My mind betrayed me just like every other body part. Even now, I had to wrangle it back to safe thoughts, it was too full of prom dresses and good-looking teachers.

I refused to turn into a lovesick schoolgirl and wasn't foolish enough to think dating a teacher was even possible. That kind of relationship was strictly taboo at ACI. Plus, I had no intention of getting entangled with any boy. Guys just complicate things and won't stay neatly in any box.