Chapter 61
Everybody’s Fool2
“Emmy!”3
I can’t recall the last time Miranda said my name without a certain level of enthusiasm. And not necessarily about things I’m going to feel too exhilarated about, either.4
“Over here, girl!”5
Straining to hear her over the throbbing beat of music, I followed Miranda’s voice, maneuvering my way through the throng of swaying bodies filling the living room. The place was packed, and it took some time for my eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness caused by the half-extinguished lights around the huge room. I’d lost count of how many people I recognized, mostly from school, although a few were from the southern part of town; it seemed like everyone who was anyone was here. Raising a hand in acknowledgment at a couple of friends just inside the door, I glanced around again, finally spotting a familiar blond head near the arch that led to Skye’s beautiful dining room. I headed for her, almost colliding with several people who were already wasted, apparently, and sidestepped the rest of the way, occasionally jostled off-course by dancing couples.6
Skye’s party, like her, was outrageous. I was betting her poor folks would’ve grounded her ‘till she was twenty if they’d seen their beloved Victorian mansion that night. It seemed Skylar was celebrating the success at the cheerleader tryouts that afternoon. Everything seemed to be decked out in the red and white of our cheer uniforms.7
Yes, our cheer uniforms.8
“Hey, teammate!” Miranda yelled into my ear when I arrived unscathed at her side. I cocked my head at her in reply, deciding not to battle Pink in all her punk-glory by attempting to be heard over her constant “uh’s”. Miranda slung an arm around my shoulders, cheerfully dragging me to where most of the Short Skirt Squad waited.9
Although I probably shouldn’t call them that anymore, seeing as I have now joined, however resentfully, their exclusive ranks. It was odd. In some part of me, the exhilarating cheerleader routines were enticing. Outwardly, I showed distaste, but I’d been disingenuous.10
“Love your outfit, Emmy.” One of my new teammates, some girl called Roxy, enviously eyed my slinky silver Vera Mont number that I’d paired with silver heels (not too high so I could walk around without tripping and making a fool of myself). I gave her a tentative smile, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gazes of six fashion-meticulous girls. Miranda, on the other hand, looked coolly stunning as always, dressed in a silver-and-black striped, clingy, spaghetti-strap top, paired with a demin miniskirt and clunky black heels. Her long blonde hair was, like mine, falling freely down her back; she looked like she’d walked off the set of Tokyo Drift. My hair . . . was tame, is the best thing that could be said about it, and that was only because I’d rushed home, straight after the tryouts were over—where, like Miranda’d predicted, I did pretty much kick cheerleader butt, but sadly Skye’s post wasn’t up for grabs—and slapped on a ton of conditioner, so now it resembled a very straight, very subdued, dark curtain.11
Add to that the fact that there were about fifty people crammed inside a room built for twenty, and the back of my neck was already sweltering. Luckily, I’d brought along a scrunchie, under the highly-likely event that I’d melt up and die.12
Miranda dragged us all out to the dance floor—I’d passed the “perfection-test”—and began leading us in a dance move that every other cheerleader, save for myself, seemed to be familiar with. I’m pretty cool with dancing, but it’s just not one of my greatest skills. Miranda, luckily, caught on soon enough (although the amount of people I’d managed to hit with wrongly-flailing limbs made sure they were heard too). She began to improvise, mostly so I could do whatever I wanted and not feel awkward. She may be an Ice-Queen but she’s not my best friend for nothing.13
We were in the middle of some crazy moves when I felt someone’s eyes on me, the back of my neck prickling.14
Under cover of yet another dizzying twirl, I chanced a glance behind me.15
The drinks table stood deserted.16
Shaking my head, I resumed my place in the crazy circle pattern we had going. It was weird, yet exhilarating at the same time; it felt like everyone was watching us, and us alone, and when I commented on this to Miranda, she only laughed, telling me I was too naïve for my own good.17
“You’re a cheerleader, girl.” She swayed in front of me, arms raised above her head, grinning. “You’re supposed to be looked at.”18
Not very comforting to a background-blender like me.19
Eventually getting tired—a cheerleader’s way of saying she’s bored to death of an otherwise socially “fun” activity—I decided that too much of a fun thing can get annoying. I headed toward the spot I’d last seen a few friends in.20
I was nearing the arch to the dining room when I saw the fiery-haired hostess. Figuring I should go say hi, seeing as it would be downright rude not to, I swerved in her direction instead. I was only a few feet away from her when I realized she was “busy”. And would quite possibly not appreciate being interrupted. Rolling my eyes at her back, I turned away—21
—walking smack into someone’s chest.22
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—” I spluttered, backing away.23
“Whoa, never thought I’d see a cheerleader apologizing. The world must be coming to an end!” A familiar guy’s voice said, cheerfully.24
“Cole!” I grinned, reaching out to give him a hug. He smiled down at me.25
“Joined the S.S. Squad, I see.”26
I flushed. Cole is one of the few people who knows about my secret nickname, and actually dares to use it with me.27
“We’re gonna have to change that name, now that Mindy’s forced me into it at gunpoint,” I told him, shaking my head in mock-distress. He laughed, leading me toward the buffet in the dining room. I snickered when I realized where we were headed. Cole Hudson is a true glutton. His favorite activity, he’d confided in me, after writing for the paper, is to eat.28
While Cole submerged himself happily into a pile of junk food, I went in search of someone not carb-inclined, although there were a few people I was making a serious attempt at avoiding.29
The most important, namely, Miranda; she is a party-holic, and I’d had about enough of being forced into submission; seconded only by Skye, because, hostess or not, the girl imparts truly bad karma on me.30
I wandered around for a bit, chatting to a random person here, and avoiding crashing into another equally-stoned person there before God gave me a sign that the rest of the evening wasn’t going to be as monotonous.31
“So, you having fun, Lukey?”32
Someone kill me now. Who the hell would call their crush Lukey?33
I stopped a little ways behind the pair. Apparently Skye had decided that the fun factor in her current-at-lunch beau had expired. Not to mention her fling-of-five-seconds-ago. She’d found her third victim of the day.34
The dark-haired guy looked up and widened his emerald-green eyes at me in a silent plea for help. She had his arm in a firm grip, though I was thankful she hadn’t forced her tongue down his throat yet. I watched in amusement as she prattled on, obviously unaware that her quarry had his attention focused over her shoulder.35
Suddenly feeling evil, I sauntered up to them and his eyes brightened. Before he could get too hopeful, I punched Skye lightly on the shoulder, gave her a “Great party”, and waltzed right on past them, shooting him a smirk over my shoulder simply because I couldn’t resist. Unfortunately, this plan, like every other, failed miserably when Skye swiveled her over-swollen head around, eagerly trying to catch sight of her admirer, and her victim took this as an opportunity to flee, disentangling his arm and slipping into he crowd.36
I watched, amused, as Skye looked round, shrieked in irritation and then hauled some poor guy out of the crowd around her, dragging him to the center of the dance floor to console herself for her recent loss.37
A pair of hand clamped over my eyes, and I let out a startled yelp, pulling free. A musky scent hit my nose. Turning, I saw said freed victim laughing softly to himself. I scowled, turned to a nearby drinks table, grabbed an empty foam cup, and flattened it on his head.38
He wasn’t laughing now.39
Smirking, I pulled free. He brushed the flattened remains of the cup out of his hair, glaring at me.40
“Real mature, Em.”41
“Had fun with Skye?”42
I squeaked and took off as his glare turned murderous in reminiscence. This plan, too, was foiled when he grabbed my wrist, easily yanking me back.43
“Thanks for helping me out back there, really appreciated it.”44
I replied by giving him my most cheerful grin. He scowled.45
“Cheerleader, huh?”46
I flushed, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah.” His tone matched the enthusiasm I felt. It was obvious he wasn’t thrilled.47
“Congrats, I guess. So, did you decide this by your—”48
“I know what you’re talking about. She made me, okay?” I shifted my feet, not wanting to look at him right then. I hated it when he did this.49
Luke sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Now, where’ve I heard that before?”50
I grimaced. “If I really hated it, I could’ve turned her down. She only does it for me, you know? She isn’t getting anything out of this.”51
Luke’s eyes darkened. “Except your loyalty.”52
I stared up at him. “Huh?”53
“Eloquent, aren’t you?” He smirked. I slugged him on the arm.54
“What d’you mean, loyalty?”55
Luke exhaled tiredly. “Emma, let me ask you something. If the cheerleaders ever had a fight, whose side would you be on?”56
I frowned. What kind of question is that? “Miranda’s, of course.”57
Luke nodded. “Exactly. And don’t delude yourself, thinking you had a choice. You’d never turn her down.”58
He turned to walk away and then stopped.59
“Maybe it’s about time you decide what you want to do. Then maybe life would be a whole lot less complicated.”60
I stared after him as he melted into the crowd. What was he talking about? Complicated? Miranda didn’t make me do stuff just so she could be more powerful. Did she?61
Of course not. She was my best friend after all. Luke was probably still a little pissed off at her going out with Alan.62
As if he’d gotten over her that easy. I shouldn’t have believed him so fast.63
“Hey, partner.”64
Talk about bad karma. I slowly turned around.65
“What do—?” My breath caught in my chest. My eyes widened.66
Alan Hartman was heading toward me through the rowdy crowd. But that hadn’t been what had startled me. It was more the fact that either he’d just undergone plastic surgery, or somehow, his looks seemed to have multiplied tenfold over the course of the past few hours.67
He was dressed all in black: black pants, black shirt, black leather jacket. The collar of the shirt was turned up, giving him a roguish bad-boy look. His silky blond hair was gelled into spikes, and he gave of an unbeatable aura of calm arrogance. The dark clothing contrasted beautifully with his cerulean-blue eyes; it was evident by the swooning looks girls were throwing his way. Obviously, he hadn’t, unlike me, had to shove his way through the crowd at all; they yielded way for him like the Red Sea for Moses.68
Yet there was something odd about his appearance, and also vaguely familiar at the same time. It wasn’t ‘till he was within three feet of me that I realized what it was.69
“I have to say,” Even his tone sounded a little different, “the cheer squad made a serious mistake letting you on the team.”70
Of course, some things never change.71
“Excuse me?” I said, icily, crossing my arms over my chest. Alan looked surprised and raised his hands in a “surrender” motion.72
“Wait, you misunderstand me, Emalyn. I meant, who’s to say you won’t take them over?”73
Was that meant to make me feel better? I thought, furiously. “Not helping, Alan.”74
He sighed. “You underestimate yourself, Emalyn.”75
“Then, pray, explain yourself.”76
He shook his head. “Not when you’re so obviously determined to be insulted. Anyways,” he added, when I opened my mouth to retort, “I didn’t come all the way over here to argue with you. I wanted to talk to you about that English project.”77
“Already? We just got it today,” I interrupted.78
He heaved another sigh. I began to get the feeling he was getting a little impatient. “Yes, I know we got it today, Emalyn, because, unlike some people, I happened to attend class.” A flush rose in my cheeks, and he gave me a slightly amused smile. “And thanks to your not being there, I wasted a whole work-period doing absolutely nothing.”79
“You could’ve generated ideas, y’know?” I muttered, staring at my feet. I hated to admit it, but he was right. I had played truant, but honestly, even though English happens to be my favorite class, having a Big Mac with Luke at McDonald's is so much more enjoyable.80
“You honestly think R—uh, I mean, I, would sit there doing all the work while you went around having fun? Sorry, but I’m not that generous,” Alan shot back, sounding annoyed.81
I rolled my eyes at him. “I didn’t say all the work. I said generate ideas. There’s a huge difference.”82
Alan looked like he wanted to stab me with the blond spikes on his head. “Generating ideas is no joke, you realize? You can’t just force a good idea into being. It comes when it wants to.”83
This conversation was getting pointless, I decided. We were spending more time arguing about absolutely futile things than we’d spent working on the project itself. This, in my opinion, didn’t bode too well for the potential future of our partnership.84
“Look, Alan, this is a waste of time. Why don’t we just decide on a spot to meet, and then you can go away?”85
“Why should I go anywhere? It’s not your house,” he retorted.86
“Because I was standing here first, before you came along to annoy me!” I snapped.87
Alan opened his mouth furiously and then changed his mind and closed it. I let slip a small smile of juvenile victory.88
“So, where d’you want to do this?” I asked, politely, feeling generous after having won.89
He took the chance, cocking his head in thought and then replied, “Your place, Sunday?”90
I frowned. “My mom might be inviting people over that day. How about yours?”91
To my surprise, his eyes widened. “Uh, I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”92
“Why not?” My reporter’s curiosity had been piqued by the alarm in his eyes.93
He shook his head firmly. “No can do. We’re renovating.”94
Of course, that made sense, I reflected, feeling deflated. He was new around here after all. His family would need time settling in.95
“So, how about the library?”96
He nodded. “Saturday and then?”97
I started. “Uh, not very convenient. Sunday?”98
“Thought you said you were gonna have guests over?”99
“Uh, yeah, but I don’t have to be there.”100
“What about Thursday or Friday?”101
“Gymnastics training. Cheer practice.”102
He nodded again. “Sunday it is then.”103
It wasn’t till he’d walked away that I realized just what it was that had seemed so different.104
He hadn’t smirked or thrown out a sarcastic remark once.105
***106
Two hours later, the temperature in the house seemed to have gone up by about twenty degrees. I walked off the dance floor feeling exhausted after an hour of continual dancing. Figuring that every open drink in the room would have been spiked by now, I made a beeline for the kitchen, intent on finding myself a cold soda to cool myself down. As I strolled toward salvation, I reached up and gathered my hair into a ponytail, tugging the scrunchie off my wrist and securing it in place.107
As I passed through the dining room, that prickly feeling of being watched washed over me again, but this time, I simply ignored the shiver that shot up my spine, repeating Miranda’s words about being a cheerleader:108
“You’re supposed to be looked at.”109
I made it to the fridge, and pulled open the door with a sigh of relief. Then I stared. The bottom two shelves were filled with rows of six-packs of Bud.110
Skye can’t have hidden all these away, I mused, fingering a bottle. Bet her parents are into it. I shuddered, and resumed searching for something non-alcoholic to drink. How convenient for her. Several packs had been ripped open, their bottles somewhere out in the wilds of the party, intoxicating some poor soul.111
I was in the act of pulling out a can of Sprite when I heard someone cough very softly and deliberately behind me. A warning tingle shot up my spine; I whirled around, and my eyes narrowed.112
Raymond Hayes leaned in the doorway, his silvery gaze fixed on me, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unfathomable; he stood there silently, studying me.113
I slowly straightened up, noting and trying to ignore the fact that his grey layered shirt brought out the beautiful grey of his eyes. His dark hair was combed straight, curling into his eyes, a rarity in this century, but I had to admit he pulled it off beautifully.114
Not that I thought he was beautiful; firstly, he was a guy, and guys can’t be beautiful. Secondly, he was Raymond Hayes.115
“What do you want?” I asked, sounding much calmer than I felt. It seemed all it took was an appearance by him to put me on edge now. Of course, there was also the matter that he’d proved himself rather unpredictable with his stunt earlier today. He smirked slightly.116
“Do I have to have a reason whenever I talk to you? Can’t I just do it because I feel like it?” he asked, raising a dark-brown eyebrow. I scowled.117
“No, because you’re you, and you always have some ulterior motive for everything you do.”Like using me to get someone else, I thought, bitterly. I felt the familiar pang in my stomach, and clamped down on a rising memory.118
When he didn’t respond, I took it as an indication that this conversation, as far as I was concerned, was over. I stalked toward the door, hesitating for just a fraction of a second, before my brain reminded me to calm down.119
He’s not going to bite, Emalyn. Just keep walking, just keep walking—120
His hand shot out, landing on the opposite side of the doorframe, effectively blocking my way. My heart rate thudded up by about fifty beats. But I stubbornly ignored the nervous flutter in my stomach, and said, in a determinedly-calm voice, “Get out of my way.”121
“No.” His smirk faded; his grey eyes studied me thoughtfully. I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling a little panicky. My grip tightened on the can of Sprite.122
“I’m warning you, Hayes—”123
“I know, I know.” He sighed, scratching at his ear in mild irritation. “You’ll sic your bodyguard on me.”124
“What do you want?” I asked, suddenly feeling fed-up; it had been a long day, too much happening in too little time. My hair was a mess, I was both emotionally and physically drained, particularly after tryouts, I was hot and sweaty after several hours in this sauna of a house, and now, I was being confronted by Raymond Hayes.125
It wasn’t fair.126
And, yes, I am aware my priorities are more than a little askew.127
Instead of replying, Raymond moved so swiftly I didn’t have time to back away. Suddenly, he’d slid across the doorway to the other side of the frame, putting his face about two inches from mine. I took a startled step back and his face cracked into a grin.128
“Scared, Emmy?”129
I raised my chin in defiance, all too aware that my cheeks were burning. “Of course not, stupid. I was just surprised.”130
Raymond heaved another huge sigh, and I began to wonder if he was asthmatic now. His grin faded, his expression sobering.131
“Emmy, do you still hate me that much?”132
I started; I honestly hadn’t thought he’d ask me something so incredibly idiotic. Clearly, I’d overestimated him.133
“Of course I do!’134
His reaction startled me. He blinked and then his silvery-grey eyes widened in hurt, and his shoulders slumped slightly. If I hadn’t known his ways, I’d have thought the pain in his expression was genuine; he looked like he’d been physically wounded.135
Although I couldn’t help the guilty twinge I felt when I looked at him. Maybe he really was hurt that I could say it so casually.136
But he’d brought it on himself.137
“I deserved that,” he agreed softly, almost as if he were reading my mind. I stared at him in shock. Raymond Hayes and shame were two words that could not exist in the same sentence unless the aim was to demonstrate negatives.138
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Just one more thing to add to my tired thoughts.139
“Now that we have that cleared up, could you please move aside?” I asked, sarcastically; I’d had about as much of him as I could take for today. He stared at me for a moment and then, to my surprise, pulled back, yielding way. I’d been expecting him to at least make a scene like he had earlier at school today. But he simply stood there and watched me pass, his expression impassive.140
When I was several feet away, he called my name. I turned, taking in his deadpan expression.141
He hesitated and then said softly, “You look beautiful. Just thought I’d let you know.”142
For once, I was at a loss for words.143
***144
I tossed and turned restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position so I could settle down and doze off. No such luck. My mind wouldn’t stop working, conjuring up images from the party several hours ago: Luke’s expression as he congratulated me on becoming a cheerleader; the proud look on Miranda’s face’s as she led me toward the other girls; Skye with Luke, although that one was amusing; Alan, his new attitude; the hurt on Raymond’s face . . . 145
I sat up and flicked on the lamp on my bedside, flopping back down and staring up at the shadows cast by the solar system mobile that had presided on my ceiling since the fifth grade. Every so often, a cool gust of October wind blew in through the open window, and swirled the mobile around, sending the planets dancing.146
Did he mean it, telling me I looked beautiful? The stupid thought would just not go away, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. Was he just saying that to get on my good side? Like that’s ever going to happen.147
Raymond’s attitude had been so, so . . . unexpected. He hadn’t tried to stop me, albeit to ask if I hated him, and then he’d let me go easily. And his reaction to my telling him I hated him . . . had that actually been a significant question?148
But what else was he expecting? That I would forgive and forget, when I saw half the cause of my unhappiness everyday, even at the same lunch table? I’d been younger back then, more easily wounded, and it still hadn’t healed. I was willing to give him a chance to explain himself, but that was all I could afford. He wasn’t worth lying to Luke for.149
***150
“Split, side, turn, up!”151
With the winter basketball season coming up, Miranda was determined that her new team be nothing short of perfect. She wanted this year’s team, as her last year, to be the best cheer squad in NWH history.152
Which was why I was to be found in the gym at seven-thirty on a Thursday morning, approximately one hour before school officially began, with the rest of the Dragonettes (named after our school mascot, a Chinese Dragon), leaping in every direction as Miranda directed us from her spot in front of us.153
Several excruciating routines later, she took pity and let us go. Quickly peeling off my uniform, I stuffed it unceremoniously into my gym locker, along with my shoes, and headed out the door. Miranda, of course, stayed behind, busy arguing over routines with Skye.154
I exited the gym doors and let out a huge sigh of relief, stretching up toward the ceiling. Cheerleading could be fun a lot of the time, but an hour of rigorous acrobatics can tire out even a honed (albeit amateur) gymnast like me.155
A sharp poke in the side brought me out of Stretch Mode. I glanced round and saw Annette , one of my fellow cheerleaders and one of the few I actually acknowledged outside practice. She beamed at me, and proceeded to poke me again.156
“Hey!” Grinning, I pulled back, trying in vain to dodge her. She giggled.157
“Sorry.” Her lilting voice had a slight French accent to it. Just enough to make it appealing. She cocked her head, shiny brown hair tumbling around her shoulders, now free of the neat ponytail that forms a customary part of our uniform. My own scrunchie had already found its way to my wrist; halfway through training, my hair felt too tightened, so I’d pulled it off, and Miranda had let it go. Simply the perks of being BFFs with the head cheerleader.158
“I saw you stretch, so I couldn’t resist checking to see if you were ticklish. Guess what—you are!” I shrieked as Annette poked me in both sides, and took off running. What can I say? Both Miranda and Luke know it’s a weakness, too.159
Annette, to my amusement, chased after me, and I’m sure we created a pretty entertaining scene in the front hallway, racing around like hyperactive third-graders, ducking around people, potted plants, seats, lockers, and more people. I know we forever destroyed many a freshmen’s image of an NWH cheerleader right then; with no dignity whatsoever, Annette tackled me into a wall of lockers, and proceeded to tickle the life out of me. I let out another shriek of laughter, ducking backwards, and turned to flee, only to slam into the chest of an amused Dragons basketball jersey’s owner. That is, the jersey wasn’t amused, its owner was. I’d slammed into him fairly hard, and the only thing in my view seemed to be the snarling face of our fiery mascot.160
I pulled back hastily, and breathed a sigh of relief when my gaze landed on a familiar pair of amused green eyes. Annette ran up to me, laughing her head off, realized I had company, took one glance at him, and froze, brown eyes widening as they took in his tousled hair, still wet from a shower after an early basketball practice, and the sleeveless team jersey that effectively showed off his muscular arms.161
Luke threw me an amused smile and then turned to her. I could almost see him slip into his flirt-mode. “You on the track team?”162
She blinked, eyes glazed. I stifled a groan. I hate it when this happens. “Uh, no. Why?” she added, almost as an afterthought.163
He gave her his usual, supposedly disarming, dimpled grin, and she reddened. “’Cause they’re seriously missin’ out.”164
If she’d been blushing before, it was nothing compared to what she was doing now. Her already- rosy cheeks burned so much, I began to fear a sunstroke. I moved to stand beside Luke, stomping warningly on his foot. He spared me a half-glance, eyes glinting mischief.165
“Yeah, well, cheerleading keeps me too busy and everything, so, uh, you know? Like, no time and stuff.” She shrugged her shoulders. I had to say, I was impressed her voice came out so calm. Luke seemed to agree; the jerk turned the charm up a notch.166
He leaned back against the locker behind him, arms crossed, the picture of confident charm. “Well, that’s a shame. I was kinda going to ask—” He stopped, smiled suggestively at her, and shrugged one shoulder languidly, watching as her face reversed tactics, bypassing normal, and turning pale. I gritted my teeth, wondering if now would be a good time to try out the gymnast’s strength in my arms by strangling him. Then I decided against it. Death at the hands of half of NWS’s female population didn’t seem very appealing.167
Annette seemed to be wilting in distress. “That’s not what I meant, actually. I was, um, talking about track team only, y’know? I mean, that’s gotta take up more time than anything you might’ve, uh, had in mind.” The way she said it was enough to make me both cringe, and question my choice of friends at the same time.168
Just as I decided that an end to this conversation was long overdue, a savior arrived in the most unlikely form possible.169
“Hammond, m’man, quite hitting on the chick and let’s head to class, already. We’re gonna be late.” Brown eyes landed on me for a moment, his hand flying to his nose in remembrance. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as Nick Richards abruptly turned away from me, possibly for fear of a recap of yesterday’s events. Apparently, guys don’t fight like girls do; no grudges are held, and both boys seemed to have gotten over the incident. Annette pouted in disappointment as Luke threw a playful punch at Nick’s shoulder, and the latter cringed unnecessarily in reflex. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop from laughing out loud. Apparently, someone had forgiven, but not forgotten yet.170
Nick turned to leave, and Luke looked over at me, seemingly forgetting Annette. “Let’s go, Em.”171
“I’ll be right there. Just need to talk to Annette for a sec,” I told him. He nodded, turning to talk to Nick as I took Annette’s arm and gently pulled her a little ways away. She turned to me, looking curious. I hesitated. I hate doing this. It never works, anyway.172
But still. I felt like I had an obligation to her. I’d seen this happen one time too many.173
“Luke was kidding with you back there. You know that right?”174
She stared at me incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”175
I blinked. Guess she really did fall for it. Just perfect.176
I sighed, wringing my hands, trying to figure out the best way to break this to her without ending up with yet another “jealous” accusation and enemy. I glanced around the hallway for a momentand then back at her.177
“He was, uh, playing around. You know, friendly-flirting kinda thing?” I looked up at her, wanting to gauge her thoughts from her expression. Annette happened to be one of those people you could read like a book.178
Right then, she looked confused, annoyed, hurt, and angry at the same time. I took a deep breath, ready to defend myself from the diatribe I knew was coming.179
“How can you, Emmy? I actually thought you were different! Best friends, as if! I bet you’re in love with him and just don’t want him liking anybody else. God, I actually tried to be friends with you. You’re worser than Miranda!”180
Too late, obviously. I let out the breath I’d been holding—unneeded now—thought about informing her that “worser” was not a real word and then just decided to wait it out. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a mistake; she wasn’t done yet, not by a long shot.181
“I actually thought you were nice. God, how stupid am I? You’re just jealous like every other girl in this god-forsaken place!” For a cheerleader, her vocabulary was pretty substantial; she actually used “like” without making my ears want to fall off. Bur it was getting annoying. How many more years of friendship did Luke and I have to go through for the morons at our school to understand? We’d been best friends for the past eleven years, and I still got rabid females on my case most days of the week!182
Then she went too far. “Just because he’s the only guy that looks twice at you, doesn’t mean he’s interested!”183
I literally bit my tongue trying to keep my reply from making it into earshot. My hands clenched into fists. Only guy that looks at me twice? I wish! I decided that in this case, she fully deserved what she was surely going to get from him.184
So I punished her in the worst way possible.185
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Annette, but go ahead. If you actually think he’s into you then you should totally go ahead and go out with him.” I said this with a perfectly straight face, before turning on my heel and walking away, displaying none of the anger and hurt I felt that a supposed potential “friend” had turned out to be an insecure flirt. Funny how she’d always seemed to be really cool to talk to. Guess only time tells all.186
And I knew what I’d condemned her too. I’d met Luke’s exes. They always ended up crawling back with apologetic expressions after having ignored my warning them. I knew Luke, knew when he really was interested in a girl. And in this case, he wasn’t. All that would come from this would be a brokenhearted Annette.187
Schadenfreude, old friend. I winced.188
“What was that about?” Luke asked me when I walked up to him, nodding his head in Annette’s direction. Shrugging, I glanced back at her; she was scowling at our backs. I sighed in annoyance, suddenly feeling like I wanted, funnily enough, nothing more than to get away from the guy walking next to me. Despite the fact that this scenario was extremely familiar to me, that had never happened before.189
But, even unknowingly, it was always his fault.190
***191
“So, Emmy, you coming over Sunday?” Luke sank into the seat next to mine. Biology hadn’t even technically started yet, and already I was counting down the minutes till lunch. I shook my head absentmindedly; I was trying to guess the probability of Alan’s turning up for English class after lunch, today being a day 2 on our schedules; English shifted around Lunch. He hadn’t been in homeroom, and ironically, I was now the one worried about wasting yet another work-period.192
“Why not?” Luke’ indignant tone brought me back to the present. Only, “here and now” was about to turn ugly.193
Avoiding his gaze, I rubbed at a pen sketch on my desk, determinedly trying to erase it. I didn’t want to see his expression when I told him about my plans for said day with Alan.194
“Janie will be really disappointed, you know?” he said, softly, as our infamously-cynical Bio teacher, Mr. Leland, stalked into the room, his usual sour expression firmly in place.195
I raised my eyes to meet Luke’s. Right now, they were a dark forest-green in disappointment. It hit me like a slap. Sunday was eight-year-old Janie’s birthday, and like an idiot, I’d very conveniently forgotten, scheduling my meeting with Alan.196
“I’m so sorry, Luke,” I told him, honestly. I lowered my voice as Leland started the lesson. “I forgot about that for a bit, and scheduled my meeting with, uh, my partner for my English project instead. I’m really sorry.” I didn’t see any reason for him to know that my “partner for my English project” was actually Alan Hartman. At least, not until he actually bothered to ask. No point in complicating things, I believe.197
Luke frowned. “You forgot?”198
I cringed, feeling a burn rise in my cheeks. He had a point. I’ve known Janie since she was born. I love the shy, adorable little kid; it’s hard not to. Like her older brother, she has the Hammond good looks and charm. We’ve been like sisters her whole life, and now I’d forgotten her birthday?199
Yeah, I could totally see why my best friend was pissed.200
Leland was looking our way, so I silently flipped open my loose-leaf binder, and scrolled on the corner of a sheet, I’m really, really x infinity sorry.201
I slid the book toward Luke. He glanced down at the message and then, to my relief, the corners of his mouth quirked upward slightly as he took in the absurdity of it. He pulled it toward himself and then bent down slightly, scrawled something quickly in reply, and slid it back to me.202
A forgetful editor? How come you’re not fired yet?203
I waited till Leland turned to shoot a sardonic remark at some poor kid and then jabbed my elbow into Luke’s side. He let out a pained “Ow!”204
Leland glanced up. “Something amiss, Mr. Hammond?”205
Luke threw a half-glance askance at me and then replied with a deadpan expression, “My brain decided it couldn’t take anymore and hurt me, for some inexplicable reason.”206
A collective gasp swept the room. Several kids stared at him, horrified, several laughed openly, and several stared in awe. I joined the horrified crowd. They knew what they were doing. You never answer back to Leland.207
Said teacher’s face swept through varying shades of red, before finally settling on maroon. “Detention, Mr. Hammond.”208
I chanced a wary glance at my best friend. His expression seemed perfectly straight, but his bright-green eyes danced with mischief. I tugged uncomfortably at my collar. This was a version of Luke I feared. You never knew what he was going to do, or when he was going to simply explode and destroy everything around him, just for the fun of it. And even though I preferred this one to the Luke he’d been yesterday, my nerves stood on edge as he turned his head fully to smile at me, before facing our fuming teacher.209
I did not like that smile. I didn’t like it at all.210
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just bored, you see. My brain has this condition where it hurts to warn me of anything fatally boring, you know?” He paused there to gauge the effect of this remark, and continued, satisfied, when Leland’s face resumed its color-quest, now paling to a shiny pink in his cheeks. “I’m sure you understand.”211
The meek remark didn’t seem to be going over too well. Leland was now turning a rich deep red again. I bit my lip; one detention was bad, but several more and Luke could be getting himself kicked off the team. What is he doing?212
I glanced at him again. That’s when I saw it. The tell-tale clench of his jaw. The way his knuckles tightened on my binder. The hard glint in his eyes, under the mischief. And that’s when it hit me.213
Luke was angry. No, not just angry. He was livid. And he was taking it out in the only way he knew how: annoying some unfortunate person to death.214
But he’d have to be truly pissed to run the risk of getting kicked off his own team. I had a vague idea what the cause could be, but, right now, something had to be done before he went too far.215
My hand shot up. Leland paused in his glare-fest to acknowledge another’s student’s existence. “May I help you, Miss Archer?”216
Everyone turned to look. Luke shot me a puzzled, albeit somewhat irritated, look; I was interrupting his venting.217
“I’m sorry about, uh . . . this,” I gestured to the troublesome guy seated next to me, who raised his eyebrows, looking disbelieving, “but you’ll have to excuse him. Lucas hasn’t been having a very good day. Family issues,” I added, in response to the teacher’s raised eyebrow. “Really sorry about that. Maybe we could be excused?” I put on my most distressed, I’m-worried-about-him look, widening my eyes for maximum drama. Next to me, Luke appeared to have frozen in his seat, eyes glued to the blank blackboard.218
I hear hushed whispers run around the room. Luke’s got family issues? I can’t wait to tell Pam/Anna/Wendy . . . Ohmigosh!219
I determinedly ignored them, instead making eye-contact with Leland, who seemed to harbor a belief that the truth could be found by drilling holes in a person’s eyes via glaring at them. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but covered it up by casting an “anxious” look at Luke, who was still immersed in scrutinizing the board.220
A deadly pause. Then—221
“Very well, Miss Archer. If that is indeed the case, and I happen to know you are not generally a liar,”—I wondered fleetingly if I had just been insulted—“ then it is perhaps best that Mr. Hammond be removed from out presence. At least”—he shot a stern look Luke’s way—“until such time as he is fit to behave like a rational being again.”222
I sent frantic telepathic messages Luke’s way, praying he wouldn’t retaliate, and luckily, he seemed to get them. He only nodded stiffly, gathered his things, and followed me out the door. I ignored the “meaningful” glances cast in my direction, and strolled purposefully into the corridor.223
The instant we’d rounded the corner, Luke grabbed my arm, turning me around so abruptly my hair whiplashed me.224
“Family issues,” he mimicked, sounding both amused and a little pissed. I couldn’t blame him; by lunch, wild rumors would be floating around the place about the Hammonds.225
Again.226
“I’m sorry,” I said, beseechingly, running a hand through my hair to get it out of the way. I shot him an apologetic look. “It was the only way.”227
Luke frowned, green eyes darkening. “Detention is no big deal, Em. I didn’t need you interfering.” He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against a locker.228
He obviously didn’t get it. I let out a deep breath, and lowered my gaze to the floor. “You don’t understand—”229
“Understand what?? He snarled, fiercely, and I jumped, startled. He’d never spoken to me like that before. He pushed himself off the locker and grabbed my shoulders, leaning down to my eye-level. “Did you honestly forget everything that happened the last time this got out? Did you, Emmy?”230
I stared at him, horrified. “No,” I whispered; suddenly I was shaking. Luke was right; the last time his family’s business had been mentioned in school, things had gotten ugly for both of us. I clenched my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” Why did it seem like I was always apologizing now?231
When he didn’t respond, I opened my eyes. He was staring over my shoulder at the blank wall behind me, eyes slightly glazed in remembrance. The look on his face was pained, and I knew he was remembering the harder parts of that time, two years ago, in freshmen year, when his father’s scandal had been broadcast all over school.232
“I needed to stop you,” I said, apprehensively. His emerald gaze fell to my own hazel one. He frowned, evidently confused.233
“Leland suspended James off the football team last year,” I informed him. “For answering back and after earning a detention,” I added, and his eyes widened in comprehension. “You were too riled up to realize you were headed the same way.”234
His hands dropped from my shoulders, and he simply stared at me for a moment. I bit my lip nervously. His expression was unreadable.235
Suddenly, his arms were around me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug that knocked the wind out of me. I took a startled breath of air. “What the hell, Luke!”236
His voice was muffled when he answered, face buried in my hair. “Love you, Emma.” 237
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Honorable winner
Adding your comment:
lol
Emmalyn and Alan.
