Lane (Made From Stone Book 1)

By: T. Saint John


As usual, the halls are busy, and I hate this crap. The school is trying to get a system in place so we don’t have this happen every day, maybe having the upper-classmen meet in the gym and the lower-classmen in the cafeteria. They better do it quickly, I think to myself, just as someone slams into my back and holds on by grabbing me just above my cock. Praying it’s Miss Conley, I turn around and am annoyed to find out it's a student. I’m even more annoyed that she is staring at me all doe-eyed.

Every year one or two girls have some sort of obsession with me. My brothers and cousins joke about me being around barely legal, beautiful girls. I hate to disappoint them, but young girls do not appeal to me, maybe because I see their daily over-the-top drama. High-school girls are honestly mean; I’m pretty sure venom runs through their veins.

This girl is no different as she mumbles and fails to answer my simple question. So, I ask another.

“Whose class are you headed to?”

She gives herself a little shake and replies, “I’m sorry. I am new, yes, and I’m looking for Mr. Stone’s class,” while clearing her throat multiple times.

“You’re in luck. I’m Mr. Stone and we're going in that direction," I point toward my classroom, "if you want to follow me.”

Before we move, I take hold of her firmly planted hands and remove them from my hips. I have to stifle a laugh because her eyes go wide, and her cheeks blush scarlet for the second time since we first spoke.

“Oh. Ok, sure,” she says and follows behind me the rest of the way.

“Here we are,” I say.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for bumping into you, I was pushed from behind,” she rushes to apologize again.

“It’s ok,” I say, leading her into the classroom.


Oh, my God! He’s my teacher. I don’t know why that disappoints me, but it does. Heck, I’m sure it disappoints all the girls in this school. I need to get him out of my thoughts fast, because I can’t afford any distractions this year. I’m depending on scholarships to pay for college. If I don’t get any, chances are I won’t go.

“Settle down, everyone,” Mr. Stone says, trying to get the attention of the very loud class. It takes a few moments before it’s completely quiet. I take a seat in the back; I don’t want to have full view of this good-looking man all year.

“I start every year with brief introductions. I like knowing my students and some of their goals. I’ll go first, you all know I’m Mr. Stone and that I coach the Lakemont Eagles,” everyone cheers at this. “I graduated from Notre Dame, and I’m a huge fan of the Chicago Bears and the Fighting Irish.”

He looks around the room before speaking again, “Okay, we’ll start in the front and work our way to the back,” he says, and points to a girl who has on enough lip gloss to stick to the wall if someone pushed her. She’s twirling her hair through her fingers, and all I hear are a bunch of 'umms’ and 'so yeahs.’

I guess I was right; all the girls have a thing for Mr. Stone. Why do I feel so jealous? I know I’m being silly, but I start thinking about what I’m going to say. I must get completely lost in thought, because the boy in front of me taps on my desk to let me know I’m up. Well this is embarrassing; everyone is looking at me like I'm a freak.


I can already tell this will be a very long year. Not one person has any plans after high school, not one! No one has mentioned college, but they have their summer parties lined up at least, and this is the future of humanity.

It’s Red’s turn now, and I expect to hear much of the same from her. I head to my desk to prepare for the rest of the morning, but I stop dead in my tracks as she opens her mouth and starts to speak. Her soft voice carries through the room like silk, and I notice all the guys are frozen in place, but the girls are busy giving her death stares.

“I’m Mallory Carter, I’m new here. I loved cheering at my last school, and I hope to do well enough academically to receive scholarships to my top two college picks, Loyola or Northwestern,” she says and sits down. I hear a few people call out nerd, and the mean girls start laughing. Snobby little bitches!

She seems to take it in stride, because she shrugs and opens her books. I have to say, I’m surprised to hear the girl who fumbled her words actually has respectable goals. Good for her. I think.

Chapter 2


A couple of months in at my new school, and I can honestly say that things are just okay. I made the cheerleading squad, but that hasn’t really helped in the friends department. I hate lunchtime; I never know where to sit, and nobody really offers to let me join.

Today I’m in luck, a table is completely empty for once, and I rush to sit down. I face the wall so I don’t have to feel embarrassed about sitting alone. I used to love coming to school, but now, not so much. I just have to keep reminding myself that in seven months, I’ll be done. My thoughts are interrupted when I hear my name being called.

“Mallory?” says a cute blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy. I know him, well, I know he plays football, and I think his name is Chad.