Forced Restart

Maddox

My forehead rested against the cold passenger window. Heavy bass thrummed through my headphones, vibrating straight into my skull and drowning out the noise of the engine. The music had no lyrics. I didn't want words right now. I just needed the steady, thumping rhythm to keep the silence from eating me alive.

Outside the glass, rows of strange houses blurred past in a monotonous stream of suburban perfection. Amber Creek didn't look anything like my old life. The streets were too clean. The lawns were too manicured. There was no grit, no noise, no familiar shadows.

This was a forced reboot. A hard reset my mother packed up and handed to me in the middle of the night. I didn't ask for it, but I didn't fight it either.

The car eased to a halt, the brakes whining slightly. The imposing brick facade of Amber Creek High School loomed through the windshield, flanked by tall windows and swarms of students congregating near the entrance.

I pulled the headphones down around my neck.

My mom shifted in the driver’s seat and offered a fragile, brave smile. "We're here, bud."

She always wore that exact expression when she was trying to hold our fractured world together with her bare hands.

I kept my voice flat, keeping my own anxiety locked down tight. "I know. It looks fine."

"You can do this, okay? It’s a fresh start for both of us."

"Of course."

I didn't believe a word of it. I said it because she needed to hear it, because the dark bags under her eyes meant she hadn't slept in days.

She reached across the console and squeezed my shoulder. "I love you, Maddox."

"Love you too, Mom."

I grabbed the door handle, pushed it open, and stepped out into the crisp morning air. I slung my heavy backpack over one shoulder. She gave a small wave through the window before pulling away from the curb, leaving me standing alone on the unfamiliar sidewalk.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. The vibration felt like an electric shock against my leg.

I pulled the device out and stared at the screen.

AVERY.

I stared at the glowing letters for three long seconds. My chest tightened, a phantom ache from a life I was leaving behind.

I hit the red button. End call.

Then I hit block number.

There was no room for ghosts in Amber Creek. No past. No toxic attachments. No second chances for people who ruined the first one. I shoved the device deep into my back pocket and walked toward the main entrance, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead.

The main office smelled heavily of floor wax and cheap lavender air freshener. I barely made it two feet past the doorway before a loud voice echoed across the room.

"Maddox Hayes?"

A woman stood behind the front desk. She wore a bright sunflower pin on her collar, her dark skin glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her hair was wrapped in a vibrant patterned headband. She smiled like I was a long-lost nephew returning from war.

"Hello. I'm Mrs. Holloway, the principal. Welcome to our lovely school."

"Thanks." I kept my response short.

"I know transferring during senior year is tough. We are not going to let you wander around these halls like a lost duck. I insist on giving you a proper tour."

"I can find my classes just fine on my own."

Mrs. Holloway leaned over her desk and tapped a button on the intercom system. "Nonsense. Hadley Vance to the main office, please. Thank you, darling."

I let out a slow, measured breath. Great.

The heavy wooden door swung open a couple of minutes later.

Blonde hair. A constellation of freckles scattered across her nose. Piercing green eyes that caught the office light and practically glowed. She carried an energy that commanded the room the second she stepped inside. Effortless. Pristine. The literal embodiment of a small-town golden child.

She flashed a blinding, magazine-ready smile. "Hey! I'm Hadley. I've been recruited as your official school guide and welcome committee."

I gave her a curt nod. "Maddox."

She spun around and started walking backward down the corridor, her hands casually clasped behind her back. "Cool name. Let's get moving. You'll like it here eventually. It takes time, but Amber Creek grows on you. Kind of like a cute fungus."

I followed her, keeping a generous distance between us. I didn't say a single word.

She pointed toward a row of classrooms. "This is the main hall. History is with Mr. Falkner. He loves the Cold War a little too much. The gym is right around this corner. That’s where the swim team practices. You will meet Coach Sims soon. He is basically a golden retriever in a whistle."

She laughed at her own joke. A bright, chirpy sound that bounced off the lockers.

I stared straight ahead. Her bubbly perfection scraped against every raw nerve in my body. She was a walking reminder of the pristine, undamaged world I used to believe in. The world that went up in smoke the day my dad’s drinking finally shattered our family.

People like Hadley Vance were fake. Nobody was actually that happy. Nobody cared that much about a stranger.

My phone vibrated against my leg again.

I pulled it out, assuming Avery had found a different number to call from.

Wrong.

DAD: Heard you ran away with your mother. Tell her to stop turning you into a little princess and answer my damn calls.

The hallway noise faded into static. My fingers clamped around the metal edges of the phone, my knuckles turning white. My chest hollowed out, the familiar, suffocating sting of his toxicity flooding my veins.

Hadley kept pointing toward a set of double doors, her voice a relentless stream of sunshine and school spirit. I couldn't process a single syllable coming out of her mouth.

My lungs felt like they were packed with wet sand. I needed air. I needed away from the noise, away from her bright, piercing voice.

I turned hard on my heel and walked straight down an empty, intersecting hallway.

I left her standing there mid-sentence.

I didn't stop until I reached a row of dark blue lockers in a deserted corridor. I leaned my shoulder against the cold metal and squeezed my eyes shut.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I opened my eyes, unlocked my screen, and stared at his message. A dark, ugly rage bubbled up in my throat.

I typed my response with hard, forceful taps.

Don't text me again. Ever.

Send.

Block contact.

Delete thread.

I watched the text bubble vanish from the screen before it could burn a permanent hole through my memory. I was done bleeding for people who only wanted to see me hurt. This was my clean slate. I wasn't going to let anyone, past or present, drag me back into the dirt.

I didn't plan on becoming the villain in Hadley Vance’s perfect little high school story.

But she made it impossible to maintain my distance.

Over the next few weeks, she was everywhere. She smiled at me in the hallways like I actually deserved it. She tried to crack jokes during chemistry. She saved me a seat in the cafeteria and offered me a spare pen when mine ran out of ink.

She slid a notebook toward me one afternoon, grinning. "Mr. Harrison's tests will make you question your existence, but the vending machine has Oreos. It balances out."

I pushed it back.

She was sunshine and flowers. I was a thunderstorm trying to stay out of reach. I wanted nothing to do with her bright, flawless fairytale.

I kept dodging her. She kept chasing.

It all reached a boiling point after my first big game.

I walked out of the locker room area, my duffel bag slung over my tired shoulder, my bones aching from the rough turf. The hallway was mostly empty, save for a few lingering students near the exits.

And Hadley.

She stood near the double doors, holding a small, clear plastic box tied with a bright yellow ribbon.

She stepped directly into my path.

She held out the box, her eyes shining with persistent optimism. "Hey. Good game out there. I made chocolate chip cookies. Welcome to the team."

I stopped. I stared at the baked goods, then up at her hopeful, freckled face. The scent of vanilla perfume and baked sugar hung heavy in the air between us.

She wanted a reaction. She wanted to be the nice, magical girl who broke through the brooding new guy’s walls with baked goods and a smile.

I didn't like chocolate chip. I didn't like sweets. And I definitely didn't like people-pleasers.

I made sure my voice was cold, flat, and devoid of any warmth. "No thank you."

Her smile faltered. Her arm remained suspended in the air. She blinked, her green eyes widening as the blunt rejection finally registered.

For a split second, she looked crushed. Like I had just kicked a puppy right in front of her.

I braced myself for the inevitable tears. I expected her to run away, go cry to her friends, and finally leave me the hell alone.

Instead, the hurt vanished.

A fierce, fiery red crept up her neck and settled high on her cheeks. Her jaw clenched tight.

She stepped right into my personal space. She slammed the plastic box hard against my chest, forcing me to bring my hands up and catch it before it hit the floor.

"Fine. You don't want to be friends? That’s great. But mark my words, Maddox Hayes. I am going to crush you. And you can trash those cookies if you want to."

She spun on her heel. Her blonde hair whipped through the air as she marched down the hallway, her footsteps echoing like rapid gunshots against the linoleum tiles.

I stood there holding the stupid yellow-ribboned box.

I watched her disappear around the corner. A strange, unfamiliar pull tugged at the corners of my mouth, fighting its way through my usual scowl.

Cute.

Really freaking cute.

She wasn't just a fragile, plastic doll after all. There was a genuine fighter buried under all that obnoxious sunshine.

I glanced down at the cookies, a dark, secret amusement settling deep in my chest.

Just like that, I became the only black book in Hadley’s color-coded library. The war was officially on. And for the first time since moving to this town, I was actually looking forward to the battle.