Chapter 31
Both Sides of You2
Cerulean-blue eyes glanced down at me in mild interest. My mouth gaping in shock, I pulled away hastily from the arms holding me steady. He let me go, smiling down at me, a beautiful smile, charming, for all the world as if I were the only girl in his eyes, he looked at only me that way—3
“Emalyn, I’m sorry,” Luke’s softly apologetic voice nevertheless rang through my ears like a gong. I leaped about two feet into the air before hurriedly spinning away from Alan’s smile and gorgeous Pacific-blue eyes, his handsome face, muscular arms…4
Oh god, I was doing it again! What was wrong with me? I’m normally a shoe-in for Least Guy-Crazy Chick at Willchester High. I’m the one who holds Miranda’s fleeting dating reins, so to speak. Emalyn Archer does not drool over some random hot new guy—5
“Em, I said I was sorry!” Luke seemed to take my muteness for the cold shoulder. I pulled myself back to reality just in time to see Alan step in front of me, bodyguard-style.6
“Give it back.” His voice was deep, demanding. Involuntary chills shot down my spine, but I could’ve sworn several girls in the vicinity swooned. Blue eyes landed on the envelope in Luke’s hand. My best-friend glanced down at it, seemingly surprised, as if he’d momentarily forgotten he was holding the cause of all the drama. I cast an alarmed glance Alan’s way; this wasn’t exactly a serious situation. I could handle it myself. What was he doing? Alan took a subtle step forwards and Luke’s head instantly jerked back up, green eyes suddenly glittering.7
“Dude,” his voice was calm, displaying none of the annoyance written on his face, “this does not involve you, so I suggest you leave. Go play hero somewhere else.”8
Two of Miranda’s ditzy cheerleader friends giggled, and immediately stopped as Alan’s blue eyes flashed. “Actually, this is my business. If you’re harassing”—my eyebrows shot up in disbelief—“a girl in the middle of the freakin’ hallway, I think I have every right to butt in.”9
I honestly wasn’t sure what he expected Luke to do right then, but I’m guessing that whatever he probably imagined wasn’t the reaction my best friend gave.10
Luke stared at Alan in pure incredulity for a moment, then turned to look at me, mouth slightly open. I gave him an equally confused look, and in the next second, he burst out laughing so hard, he practically flew backward into the lockers. As if on cue, several members of his harem followed suit, their voices ringing down the long corridor.11
What surprised me even more was that Alan didn’t seem to mind. Here he was, the new kid, who should have been nervous at this embarrassing situation on his second day, but instead, he was calmly watching as Luke recovered himself (after several long minutes). The lean blond guy didn’t so much as bat an eyelid at the fact that everyone, save myself, in a ten-foot radius was laughing at him, even though only about a quarter of those people had heard the initiating comment Alan had calmly intoned. To be honest, I was too frazzled to react. Luke harass me? Where did that come from? Okay, so maybe he had just insulted me, but it wasn’t that serious...12
But who was I kidding? The smart comment had hurt, really hurt, more by the fact that it was Luke who said it. I know I sound extremely over-dramatic, but he’s always been the one to hold me whenever I’ve had a bad experience with a guy, the one on whose shoulder I’d cried on when my first boyfriend cheated on me back in the ninth grade, the one who knows about every bad relationship I’ve ever been in…how could he say that to me knowing I was fairly justified in my decision to stay away from any further heartbreaks? Especially when he was the one who constantly warned me about the lascivious males at school?13
Something flashed across Alan’s face, an expression so fleeting, I couldn’t read it. “You’re upsetting her even more, you friggin’ idiot, now give that back before I make you!” His harsh voice pulled me back to embarrassing reality. He had moved closer to Luke, who actually paused to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes before retaliating.14
“Harassing, did you say?” He was obviously caught between justified outrage and humor at the stupidity of the comment. “Listen, dude, I know you’re new and all, and you probably don’t know this just yet, but Em and I”—he pointed at me before gesturing to himself— “go way back. If anybody’s harassing anyone, it’s you for makin’a freakin’ scene out of nothing.” Now a mere two feet from Alan, he folded his arms across his chest, smirking.15
My blond bodyguard remained unperturbed. “You done yet? Hand the damn thing over before I make you regret it.” At this sudden angry note, my eyes flew to Alan; his face had previously been coldly expressionless, but now he and Luke were practically in each other’s faces, glaring bloody murder.16
Luke gritted his teeth in annoyance, his previous nonchalance evaporating in an instant. “What the frig is your damn problem? You’re making it seem like this is some huge catastrophe! For God’s sake, guy, I was teasing her! It’s a new-fangled concept. Ever heard of it?”17
I realized with a start that a fairly large and obnoxious crowd had gathered; watching one of Willchester High’s alpha males take on the mysteriously-intimidating new guy was worth being late to homeroom for, apparently. It suddenly hit me that Luke was right. He had only been teasing me; it was routine, even if he normally didn’t insult me as he had today, but I was pretty sure it had been accidental. There shouldn’t have been crowds of onlookers, but it was Alan’s fault alone that there were. I realized then that this wasn’t the usual bickering between two best friends anymore, but more of a male-ego brawl. The other onlookers seemed to have realized this already.18
“Now.” Alan’s cold voice rose above the background voices, sending a chill down my spine again, and the crowd fell eerily silent. He was so commanding; I suddenly felt this urge to hand over my book bag just because he’d asked.19
But somehow, I didn’t think the same could be said of his arrogant opponent.20
Because Luke was his opponent now. The mood had irrevocably shifted. We weren’t in a high-school corridor anymore. We’d left that behind. The crowd was witnessing a death-match and Lucas Hammond had never learned to surrender. Knowing him for as long as I had, the extremely pissed-off expression on his face didn’t bode well for anyone involved.21
Just as I was sure Luke’s infamous athlete’s temper would emerge in the form of a fist, he moved. The blood-thirsty crowd, for some inexplicable reason, figured this would be the best time to yell “Fight! Fight! Fight!” A Skylar-wannabe stepped in front of me, blocking my view for a moment, so I couldn’t see exactly what Luke had done to earn that encouragement. I hastily pushed her aside, my mind frantically hoping Luke’s brain was suddenly capable of telepathy so I could tell him to calm the hell down and not make stupid mistakes—22
“Here, Emmy.” A cool voice nonetheless spoke above the crowd’s renewed jeering.23
I froze, and the crowd fell silent again. Skylar-wannabe glanced round at me in disgust, and moved away. That was when I felt the emerald-eyed gaze on me.24
My mouth fell open when I realized that Luke had moved away from Alan, something my “savior” had not been anticipating, if the startled expression on his face was anything to go by. Instead of rebutting, Luke calmly walked over to me, successfully drawing attention to my ‘till-then inconspicuous self, and held out the fateful envelope.25
“Here,” His glanced at me for a second, before looking away, “I didn’t think it would turn out this way. I honestly didn’t know joking around with a friend was that big of a calamity.” He aimed a glare over his shoulder in Alan’s general direction before turning back to me, and began to speak—26
—before realizing that about fifty other kids were listening in, blatantly staring. I’m guessing they were waiting for some dramatic speech here, which simply shows how well they really know him. Luke’s not big on emotional drama. He’d much rather punch someone into understanding than “talk”, which is a bit ironical, considering his heart-breaker reputation.27
Now, he glanced around, looking vaguely annoyed, and raised his dark eyebrows in a What’re you looking at? kind of way. Some of my more intellectually-gifted peers took the hint and dispersed.28
The mood was gone, drifted away. Luke turned back to face me, seeming to have something to say. For a moment, there was a short silence…29
I bolted.30
I know, you’re probably thinking, what the heck is with this girl? She just said the mood was gone! Truth be told, the mood might not have remained, but the circumstances hadn’t disappeared. Luke was still eyeing me with a slightly worried look on his face, Alan was still glaring, there were still about thirty kids standing around with no purpose other than to gawk at us, and—31
“Emmy!”32
--Miranda simply had to join in. Personally, I am not a center-of-attention-type of girl. That role always has been, and always will be, Miranda’s. Just as I took a step in the direction of my homeroom, she caught hold of my wrist and Luke grabbed my other arm. Trapped between them, there was a ridiculous second in which they both shot each other stunned looks and then proceeded to drag me away—33
—in two separate directions. Sadly, the many childhood hours I spent worshipping Reed Richards have yet to pay off.34
“Ow!” My yelp of pain and indignation caused them both to recall this fact and they immediately let go. With a painful bang, I was promptly propelled into the wall of lockers behind me.35
This was clearly not one of my better days.36
“Emmy, I’m so sorry!” Miranda grabbed one of my arms, apologizing profusely. Luke took hold of the other, and they hoisted me to my feet. I shook my head to clear the starts swimming across my vision, and was immediately faced by a corridor full of gaping kids.37
Whoever said high school is the best time of one’s life should take a long walk in my shoes.38
Ignoring the eyes still on us, we set off running for homeroom, arriving mere seconds before the late bell. Slipping into my seat in the central aisle, next to Miranda, and behind Luke, I absentmindedly glanced around the room, and to my surprise, saw Alan at the very back, lounging comfortably in his chair, a horde of the Willchester High Abercrombie bimbos surrounding him. To put it succinctly, they were the typical preppy dyed-blond airheads who usually followed Luke around, desperately trying to claim his attention.39
Seemed the tide was changing.40
Luke seemed to have reached this conclusion too. Surprisingly, he didn’t look all that depressed about it. His green eyes even held a small glint of what I was certain was victory as he watched Skylar get up and saunter across the room to join Alan’s new harem. My poor buddy was probably relieved the slut had found a new victim. She elegantly shoved a petite faux-blonde cheerleader off Alan’s desk and perched on it, crossing her legs so her shorter-than-regulation miniskirt hitched up ever so slightly. Her low-cut top completed the school-slut look to perfection. I watched with disgusted fascination as she leaned over to him, glossy red curls swinging sideways to form a curtain, her neckline swinging dangerously lower, and effectively catching the eye of pretty much every guy in the room, save, I’m pleased to say, Luke, who was obviously more interested in whether or not he’d gotten Willchester’s own Jessica Wakefield off his back. She whispered something to Alan, words I couldn’t catch from my seat an aisle and three desks away, but the seductive look she put on explained it all. I’d seen her try it on guys for several years now, after all, yet it still managed to disgust me.41
To my increasing astonishment, Alan didn’t appear seduced in the slightest. He merely nodded at whatever she’d said, then resumed his relaxed position, eyes closed. I glanced over at Luke in time to see disappointment flash across his face as he realized his “plan” wasn’t working out all that well after all.42
Skylar, amusingly, wasn’t ready to give up just yet. I’m guessing she figured that if she couldn’t have Luke, she’d go for the cute new guy. Even if said new guy was currently ignoring her.43
Leaping off his desk, she slipped into the seat beside him, having scared away the previous occupant with one of her infamous glares. Alan remained blissfully oblivious, rocking back slightly on two chair legs. She leaned over, practically spilling into his lap, and proceeded with her whispering. I knew exactly what she was doing too: putting on her “husky seductive” voice, the one that made every guy go crazy, and secured her spot as reigning queen bee if not next to, then just under, Miranda.44
Luke caught my eye and grinned, faint dimples appearing in his cheeks. But the smile was strained; I’m guessing it was due less to the fat that Skye’d found someone else to harass, and more due to what had just occurred five minutes ago. He jerked his head towards Alan and gave me an “I won the lottery” look. I laughed slightly—and stopped when I saw the enraged look on Miranda’s face.45
She was watching Skylar, her mouth set in a grim line. Her deep blue eyes were narrowed, either in anger or thought, I couldn’t tell. She was obviously concentrating deeply on something, because she didn’t even look round when the announcements came on, and the first one mentioned cheerleader tryouts after school today. That in itself was cause enough for alarm; Miranda had been begging me, as an amateur gymnast, to try out. Despite my insistence that I did not want to join the Short Skirt Squad, my personal nickname for Willchester High’s cheerleaders, she kept reminding me about how this was my last year, and therefore, my last chance to join the “high life”.46
Bite me.47
Miranda and Skylar have an interesting relationship. Both were co-captains of the cheerleading squad last year. Both tried out for head cheerleader. Miranda came out on top, and at first, Skylar seemed pretty okay with it. She occupied herself conniving ways to catch Luke’s eye instead, again. She’s been trying since junior high, actually.48
However, several nasty incidents in freshmen year ended the delicate semblance of friendship both girls held.49
Skylar and Miranda eventually managed to reach a truce, though. Of course, the head cheerleader tryouts a couple years later didn’t help much, but at least now they can hold a conversation without gouging each other’s eyes out. Skylar even began issuing invites to her parties, though it probably has more to do with the fact that Luke and Miranda have reached prime “must have” status when it comes to parties, rather than because Skye actually wants Miranda there. The competitive air has, of course, yet to die down. Maybe it might in the future.50
Like, when hell freezes over.51
Me, I tag along occasionally. I, interestingly, seem to have reached a neutral state in my climb up said ladder, hanging out with pretty much anyone and everyone, attending a cheerleader’s party one week, the school council meeting the next. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way.52
On this bright Tuesday morning in homeroom, territories were being crossed, not to mention, defended. After irritably watching Skye’s antics for a while, Miranda glanced around, saw no sign of our homeroom teacher, and, shooting me a sly wink, mouthed, I’ll tell you later, before getting up and gracefully making her way toward the back of the room. Her fluid movements caught, predictably, the eyes of many of my testosterone-driven peers.53
A suddenly enraged Luke scowled at her back. No doubt he felt betrayed, in more than one way. I gave him a chiding pat on the arm before turning around, not wanting to miss the drama that always enfolds whenever Miranda and Skye battle over a guy.54
I watched in anticipation as Miranda reached the pair, and Skye greeted her with what I’m willing to bet was fake chirpiness. Miranda smiled vaguely at her before turning to Alan. She casually rested her palms on his desk, leaning forwards slightly, her shining curtain of long blond hair swaying to block my view. Unlike Skye, she was dressed in a slightly more conservative outfit today, designer jeans with a spaghetti strap top.55
I was so preoccupied with trying to hear what she was saying, short of eavesdropping, I admit, that I almost didn’t notice when Alan’s eyes suddenly shot open and landed directly on me.56
Almost.57
My breath caught in my throat. My stomach gave a feeble lurch under the intensity of his gaze. He was staring at me, flat-out staring, his bright-blue eyes piercing right through me like a sword; he didn’t bother to look away even when I turned to acknowledge him.58
Suddenly recalling the incident in the hallway, a stab of annoyance flitted through me. Ignoring the way my innards were turning to jelly, I stubbornly met his intent look head on, though I’m thinking mine probably resembled a glare more than anything else.59
If he wanted a match, I wasn’t going to run away like I had before.60
To my increasing frustration, instead of following my brilliant plan and averting his eyes in embarrassment, he didn’t look away. We simply sat, him staring, me glaring, as the clock ticked by and Mr. Lansing failed to make an appearance. It was like there was no one else there, just the two of us in an empty classroom in an empty school. Everything else seemed to fade away as our eyes remained trained on each other’s. Almost unconsciously, I began to hyperventilate. I’m not generally one to go around glaring at people for extended ions of time. But Alan seemed perfectly content to sit there, bright-blue eyes fixed on me, seemingly endlessly.61
I forgot that Miranda doesn’t take well to ignorant listeners.62
Her blond head shot up and her eyes widened slightly, as did Skye’s, when they both realized that Alan’s sudden object of fascination was me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several other people look from me to Alan, and back again. Luke made a slight movement, but I ignored him, unwilling to back down. I suddenly sensed Miranda straightening.63
Screaming at myself inside, I swiftly averted my gaze, breaking out of his piercing grip of as if cutting to the surface after a long underwater stint. I was suddenly breathing hard, panting, something that did not go unnoticed by Luke, who gave me a look of mild alarm before hurriedly turning to the front as a rather disheveled Mr. Lansing stumbled in, sputtering apologies to a class that obviously did not mind his tardiness. At least, judging by the loud Awwws that greeted him.64
As soon as my name was called, I responded and lurched out of homeroom, practically running for a class that I’m sure never had anyone hurrying toward it before: Calculus. I don’t think I ever felt so glad my last name was first in Mr. Lansing’s alphabetical attendance sheet.65
Slumping into my desk in the back row of the classroom, I was greeted by an amused pair of hazel eyes.66
“I’m impressed, Archer. I honestly didn’t know you felt such passion for this subject. You always kinda gave off an I-hate-math vibe.” Cole Hudson propped his chin on his hand, regarding me skeptically from his seat across the aisle, his messy brown hair swimming in front of his eyes.67
I shot him a glowering look, and he cringed in mock fright. “Sorry.”’ He couldn’t help adding in a laugh. “It’s just, you look so pale and out-of-breath, I sort of got the impression you actually ran here.”68
I flushed. What was I supposed to say, I’m trying to outrun potential death at the hands of my best friend, the Queen Bee? Yeah, that’d go over well. But it was probably true. Miranda might actually think Alan was interested in me, or something.69
Right. When pigs fly, maybe. Or, seeing as how scientists are inventing all sorts of wacko mutants and a clichéd flying pig might not be a fantasy for much longer,when vampires become real. That sounds better suited to the circumstances in which Alan Hartman might bear any romantic interest in me whatsoever.70
But still, I pondered, even as I shrugged in response to Cole’s question, what did Alan want? He always seemed to be turning up everywhere. It was creepy, his ambivalent nature. I’d only really known him for about a day, and already he’d displayed more mood-swings than Miranda when she’s PMS-ing. He’d been so open at the library, even friendly to a certain degree. Then later, he’d just creeped me out with his whole hypnotic-eye act. But this morning, he’d actually deigned to help me, yet now in homeroom, he simply sat staring, and staring far too long for comfort.71
Who is this guy? I pondered, as the room gradually began to fill around me. And what does he want with me? I hated to admit that, whatever it was, he probably wouldn't find it very difficult, seeing as how, for some inexplicable reason, I practically melted into a Skylar clone whenever he as much as looked at me.72
And it angered me. I was not a girl who swoons over some blond surfer-guy.73
Yet, even though I didn’t want to delude myself, he didn’t seem to be paying his admirers much heed. I was certain that if he’d said even so much as a word to Miranda, my hysterical best friend would have wasted no time in telling me of that “leap”.74
Miranda…A sick feeling rose in my stomach. What was she thinking now? Both she and Skye, not to mention most of the kids in homeroom, had seen my and Alan’s little spat. I wondered what she was making of it.75
She’s probably furious, was what passed through my head, as Willchester’s resident Narnian Ice-Queen, Ms. Murray, took us into the wondrous 3D world of vectors. I spent the rest of the lesson trying to figure out how I could possibly try to convince Miranda that I did not have the hots for “her” guy, and that really, I’d only been defending my fairly bruised pride after that very-publicized scene in the halls.76
Sadly, the real scenario, as with so many other aspects of my life, didn’t play out as it had in my ideal world. But then again, most things generally never occur as we’d have liked them to.77
“So, he ask you out yet, Emmy?” Miranda was all cool politeness, though the slightly constipated expression on her face was a major tell-tale. My BFF was not very thrilled with me right now. She played a perfect façade, idly twirling a bottle cork on the tip of her finger as she pretended to not glare at me across the lunch table. I, on my part, displayed slightly more advanced levels of maturity by playing clueless.78
“You’re not talking about Luke again, are you?” Luckily the guy wasn’t around, else it would have been very awkward explaining that statement. Miranda, however, wasn’t thwarted by my Oscar performance. Her blue eyes remained cold.79
“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, Emalyn Olivia Archer. Quit pretending!” she snapped, calm demeanor vanishing in sync with the cork as it spun off her fingertip and flew into an approaching dark-haired guy’s chest. Several of the girls sitting around us shot evil smiles at me. Obviously, I need to find some more people to hang out with.80
“Hey, what the—!” Luke’s irritated voice was a welcome change from Miranda’s smoldering glare. Needless to say, I was feeling way too much like a bug trapped in a glass jar for comfort. Especially since Miranda was playing the demented scientist in charge.81
“Where’d you go?” I demanded of him, with what was probably way more anger than the situation called for. He frowned down at me, one dark brow arched.82
“The guys wanted to have a game later, so I was trying to figure out a venue and time with ‘em,” he replied, still frowning slightly. “Why? Did ya miss me?” His frown gave way to a smirk. I rolled my eyes in response, and he ruffled my hair playfully.83
Of course, being Luke, he must make me scream.84
“You idiot, Hammond!”85
Luke backed away slightly, grinning, as I clutched at the tangled knot of hair, a very familiar cork buried in it center. After much struggle, I eventually managed to extract the thing, and tossed it rather vehemently at my evil best friend. He only ducked easily, laughing.86
I just love my friends.87
Although right now, Miranda didn't seem to share my sentimentalities.88
***89
I walked down the dark corridor, blindly feeling my way. It was here, whatever I needed. I could feel it inside me. So close, so very—90
“Throw it away, for-get yesterday; we’ll make the gre-ea-et escape...”91
“What the...” My hand dropped back down to my side, clutching at empty air.92
My cell phone had rung, waking me at the ungodly hour of two a.m. Vanessa Carlton, anyone? Cursing as the voluminous chorus of The Great Escape filled my room, I quickly shot a hand out and hit the silence key.93
The phone went dead, vibrating indignantly on my night-stand, the wooden legs of the table making a slight clattering noise against the tiled floor.94
I shook my dazed head. Man, did I have the weirdest dreams or what?95
Wearily flipping onto my back, I half-dragged my phone to my ear, hitting the answer key, all the while praying my mother, asleep in the next room, hadn’t heard.96
But seriously, macabre much? Who calls at two in the morning, anyways? Especially on a school night?97
“’Ello?” Me at my most croakiest and disoriented.98
“Emmy! Oh. My. Gawd! You will not believe—“” 99
I jerked upright, holding the phone a good three inches away from my ear, but I could still practically hear triple exclamation marks in Miranda’s exuberant greeting. Obviously this was no case of “It’s what you didn’t say, that told me I’d get hurt again”. Rubbing my stinging ear, I wondered what new piece of gossip she had to share with me this time; this was, after all, her Gossip Octave. Glancing at the radio-alarm clock on my night-table, I swore softly under my breath; this had so better be worth it, or I would—100
I put the phone to my ear again. Apparently, she‘d been talking.101
“—it’s like a dream come true! Not that I’m all that surprised, of course! I mean, like, after all, who wouldn’t wanna go out with me, right?” It was a rhetorical question.102
I gently massaged my temples with the tips of my fingers, sighing. “So, pray spill, who is your latest conquest?”103
Miranda let out a girly giggle, the type I cannot stand. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”104
I turned my head to stare at the phone incredulously, wishing she could see the look I was transmitting via telephone cable to her. Silly ol’ me. I’d been under the impression she wanted to tell me something.105
I wonder where that thought came from.106
“You know what, Em?” I put the phone back to my ear. “I’m so totally not mad at you anymore!” She giggled again. I held back the sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue.107
“You were going to tell me something?” I asked, finally. Preferably before the sun rises, I thought, but didn’t say. 108
“Oh, yeah, um, oh my gosh...”109
She sure was taking her sweet time; giggling noises reached my ear again.110
I glanced at the alarm clock again. Ten minutes had passed.111
“Miranda, I’m really sleepy, think maybe this could wait ‘till school?” I yawned to emphasize my point. It was true; the speed she was headed, we’d be here all night, and my eyelids were drooping.112
“No!” She practically burst my eardrum with one vehement yell. “You have got to here this—“113
If she ever said it, that is. Another suppressed thought. Maybe that stupid song ha some meaning after all.114
“Miranda, you know I love you and all, but this is so not the time for gos—“115
“Alanhartmanaskedmeout!”116
A heavy pause. Then—117
“Say what?” I hadn’t just heard what I thought I heard, had I? No freaking—118
“Alan Hartman, aka, Hot New Guy, asked me out!”119
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