The Opposite of Ordinary

by Jessica Sorensen

  “You’d really tell Queeny her phone’s being temporarily jacked?” I ask kind of surprised I lost against her hatred between Queeny versus me.

  She shakes her head. “I’d tell the teacher you stole a phone.”

  My lips form an O, and then I sigh, giving up lying. “Look, I overheard Queeny babbling to Janie and Reina about having a really good idea about how to destroy me, so I thought I’d check her messages to see if I can figure out what she’s up to. You know, get one step ahead of my enemy. I’ve heard that’s a good idea.”

  “It is a good idea when you’re not an enemy yourself.” She glances hesitantly at the phone then back at me. “Hurry up and look at the messages. I’ll keep an eye out and make sure no one comes in.”

  I nearly drop the phone. “Are you being serious?”

  “Does this not look like my serious face?” she asks then sighs. “Just hurry up, okay?”

  Nodding, I swipe open the messages and start with her feed with Janie. After a minute of scrolling through countless messages about shoes and makeup, I switch to Reina’s. Those are worse than Janie’s.

  Reina: Do you like those purple shoes I bought?

  Reina: Maybe I should’ve bought them in red.

  Reina: They would match my homecoming dress better.

  Reina: Oh, wait, we decided I need to take my homecoming dress back, right? Because yours is red.

  Reina: Hey, do you think I should dye my hair?

  The funny thing is, Queeny never replies to her, yet the needy messages go on and on. I’d laugh at her for being so worried about Queeny’s opinion, but once upon a time, I was in Reina’s purple shoes. Not quite up until our friendship shattered, but even for the last year, when I began to pull away from Queeny, I still wasn’t much better.

  “Find anything yet?” Clarissa asks, peering around the corner of the lockers.

  “Not yet,” I say, switching to Knox’s message thread. “Hold on, though.”

  Knox: So did I do well or what?

  Queeny: You did okay, but she didn’t get as upset as I wanted her to.

  Knox: Are you freaking kidding me? She yelled at me in front of everyone. I think that qualifies as being pretty damn upset.

  Queeny: Yeah, but she wasn’t upset about you guys being broken up.

  Knox: Yes, she was. I could see it in her eyes.

  Queeny: You’re so clueless, Knox. She wasn’t upset about that; she was upset because you were bothering her and because you cheated on her. But she wasn’t upset that you guys broke up.

  Knox: Whatever. I think you’re wrong.

  Knox: And I really hate that you told her I cheated on her. And with a bunch of girls? Seriously? You know I didn’t do that shit. Not up until the end when I started getting tired of her virgin act.

  Queeny: I told you when you started dating her that you were wasting your time with her, but you wouldn’t listen.

  Knox: Well, I thought I could get her to change. After a year of trying, I got bored of her refusing to open her legs. I just didn’t think she’d open them for someone else.

  Queeny: Yeah, well, maybe you aren’t her type.

  Knox: What’s that supposed to mean?

  Queeny: It means she seemed awfully defensive about you insulting that little nerd she’s been hanging out with.

  Knox: Yeah fucking right, like Ash would ever date a guy like that.

  Queeny: Why? Because she’s better than him? Better than me?

  Knox: No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. Look, I gotta go. Practice is starting.

  Queeny: Whatever. But you’ll answer my questions later.

  That’s the end of their messages, and by the timestamp on Knox’s last message, my bet is he didn’t run off to practice. He bailed because he knew he’d pissed off the viper.

  “Find anything?” Clarissa asks again, giving a nervous glance around the corner.

  “I don’t know.” I move back to the message threads and scroll through, looking for more. Other than a thread with her mom, there isn’t much. She must be messaging more online than on her phone, which means I’m going to have to cross my fingers and toes that Clove will gain access to those.

  Putting the phone back into the locker, I shut the door and face Clarissa. “I’m still not sure what she’s up to, but I did learn the whole scene with Knox yesterday was staged.”

  She turns around and reclines against a locker. “Why would she do that?”

  “To get me upset, I think.” I rewind through what I read and tense. “She rubbed in Knox’s face that I seemed more interested in defending Maxon than getting upset about Knox and I breaking up.”

  “Yeah, what was that about?” she asks with accusation. “That seemed really out of character for you.”

  I shrug. “It was exactly what it seemed like—defending Maxon.”

  She steps away from the locker. “You think Queeny’s on to your little crush?”

  “I don’t know … I hope not.” Talking about this openly with her makes me squirmy. “Not because I’m embarrassed or anything. Or well, embarrassed over Queeny finding out. I’m just worried about what she’ll do with the info.”

  “What could she possibly do with knowing you have a crush on some guy?”

  “I don’t know. Try to date the guy, maybe.”

  A beat of silence goes by, and then we erupt into a fit of giggles.

  “Oh, my God, can you imagine Max dating Queeny?” She laughs, clutching her side. “That’d be like a lion trying to date a squirrel.”

  Tears of laughter flow from my eyes. “Or a snake dating a mouse.”

  “Or the evil queen winning the prince.”

  “Or the Mad Hatter dating the Queen of Hearts.”

  We continue on and on until we’re laughing so hard I can barely keep my legs under me. I trip into the lockers, which makes her howl with laughter.

  Finally, after a few minutes of giggling like a couple of goobers, we manage to pull ourselves together. Then the moment we shared collapses as Clarissa gives me a tough girl, I-could-kick-your-ass look.

  “You better not let Queeny go after Max,” she warns, bending down to tie her shoelace. “If you do, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Please, for the love of all things sugary and wonderful, let me be able to keep that promise.

  “I’m holding you to that.” She rises. “And if something does happen to him, it’s on you.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  Nodding curtly, she turns to leave.

  “Clarissa?” I call out.

  She tensely pauses at the end of the row of lockers. “Yeah?”

  “What Queeny and I did to you … That’s on me, too.” I swallow down an anxious breath. “I know this probably won’t change anything, but I’m really sorry for what happened … for helping Queeny break you and Judd up … for standing by while she went after you.”

  She goes rigid then shakes out her shoulders and glances back at me. “Whatever. It is what it is. And you kind of did me a favor. Judd’s such an asshole. I never saw that while I was dating him because I was too in love … At least, I thought I was.” She presses her lips together, contemplating something. “Some of the other stuff you did sucked. I mean, I know you never directly did or said anything to me, but you still helped Queeny every step of the way.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish I could take back what I did, but I can’t.”

  “I know you can’t. What you can do is always do better moving forward.”

  “I know … I’m going to try. And I really want us to try to be friends, though I get it if you don’t want to. I just hope you will.”

  She starts to smile, but pulls back. “We’ll see.” Then she pushes out the door, leaving me alone in the locker room.

  I’m not sure what her “we’ll see” means, but it might be a start to her not completely loathing me. Plus, she did play lookout for me, so that’s got to mean something.

  As I turn t
oward my locker to get dressed for gym, I spot a card on the floor where Clarissa was standing. Figuring it fell out of her pocket, I bend over and pick it up to see if it’s anything she may need.

  “The Heartbreaker Society,” I read the words on the card aloud. Below the words is a local phone number, and that’s it. “What the hell is this?”

  Better yet, why did Clarissa have it?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I don’t get a chance to talk to Clarissa after gym since my teacher makes me run extra laps for being late, which makes me even later to my next class. Thankfully, today is a half day due to fall break. I’m more than ready to get some extra time away from Fareland High.

  When the final bell of the day rings, I practically skip toward Clove’s locker, where he told me to meet him if I wanted a ride home. When I bounce up to him, he’s putting his books away and collecting his bag.

  “You seem in a more cheerful mood,” he remarks, tossing a book into his locker.

  “That’s because school got out early,” I admit, reclining against the locker beside his.

  He bumps his locker shut and slips his backpack over his shoulder. “Did you talk to Max at all?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t seen him all day. I did talk to Clarissa while we were alone in the girls’ locker room, and she didn’t kill me, so that’s gotta be a good sign that maybe better days are ahead.” I consider asking him about the card, which is currently tucked in my jacket pocket, but then think better of it.

  It’s just a card. No need to get all weirdo nosey. The name printed on the front was so strange, though. The Heartbreak Society? What could that be? A store? A band? A secret society? I almost laugh at the last thought.

  A society, Ash? You really are losing your mind.

  “That really happened?” Clove asks, tearing me out of my thoughts. “How?”

  “Well, to make a long story short, she caught me snooping around in Queeny’s phone and decided to play lookout for me instead of ratting me out. One thing led to another, and we actually ended up laughing.”

  “About what?”

  “About Maxon dating Queeny?”

  “About me what?” Maxon steps beside us, blinking in astonishment.

  I take a second to discreetly check him out. He’s wearing a unique outfit today: black pants with side pockets and suspenders hanging down instead of strapped over his dark grey shirt. The look is topped off with Converse sneakers and rows of leather bands on his wrists. It’s so different from Knox’s polo shirts and jeans. Truthfully, I prefer Maxon’s look more. Like, fan-my-hand-in-front-of-my-face, did-this-room-just-get-a-little-more-hot kind of more.

  A mischievous look illuminates Clove’s face. “Dude, Max, don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about it.”

  “Have you lost your damn mind?” Maxon asks through clenched teeth.

  “What? I didn’t say it.” Clove points a finger at me. “She did.”

  Maxon’s gaze skits to me and panic fills his eyes. “Ash, I swear I’d never date someone like her.”

  I resist the urge to point out that not too long ago, I was sort of like her. “I don’t think you’d date her. Clarissa and I … We just had a discussion about Queeny maybe trying to go after you to get to me, and we thought it’d be funny if she tried to date you in order to achieve that.”

  Hurt fills his expression. “You thought it’d be funny if I dated Queen Bitchton?”

  “Theoretically,” I press. “But no, I wouldn’t think it was funny if you were actually dating her.”

  The stiffness in his muscles loosens. “Good. Because I’d never, ever date her. You know that, right?”

  “Of course.” I wonder who he would date. Kinslee? Clarissa?

  Who has he dated? From what I’ve noticed—and I’ve paid way too close attention—he hasn’t dated anyone from our school. He could be dating someone from outside the Fareland district, like Queeny has a ton of times.

  “Why were you talking about that?” he asks as we migrate toward the doors at the end of the hallway with Clove trailing our heels.

  “It’s a long story,” I answer. “One I’m not sure if I should get into.”

  Maxon opens his mouth to say something then gets distracted for a moment with an incoming text. As we near the doors, I move to the side to avoid bumping into Judd, yet he purposefully bumps his shoulder into mine and smirks.

  “It’s only going to get worse,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear.

  I look away, grinding my teeth.

  What’s his problem? Why is he teaming up with Queeny?

  “I’ve got time,” Maxon tells me after he puts his phone into his back pocket. Then he smiles. “A whole extra half a school day, actually.”

  My lips pull upward, but the smile promptly fades as I begin to tell him what happened in the locker room and what I found on Queeny’s phone. By the time I’m finished, we’re in Clove’s car, and he’s pulling out onto the street.

  “I don’t think she’ll come after me,” Maxon declares after I grow quiet. “Even if she did, what is she going to do? Yell at me? Threaten my social status?”

  “I’m not worried about that.” I twist sideways in the seat and rest my elbow on the back. “I’m worried she’ll make a bunch of horrible crap up about you and spread rumors around school, like she’s doing with me. Or she’ll find out something about you that you don’t want anyone knowing and tell everyone.”

  “Ash, I thought we already talked about this.” He seems more amused than he should. “I’m not the next Dexter. My future girlfriend is.”

  A smile tickles my lips. “Fine. Then I’m worried she’ll find out your future girlfriend’s dirty secrets and tell the whole school. Then you’ll have to spend the rest of high school consoling her from the trauma.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” he says, stretching his arm out on the back of my seat. The curve of his arm ends up right behind my elbow. “Well, at least for me. For my future girlfriend, not so much.”

  “You guys are forgetting one thing in this hypothetical situation,” Clove announces as he parks the car in front of the gas station. He shoves the shifter into park then turns toward us, his gaze taking in the nearness of mine and Maxon’s arms. “Maxon would actually have to get a girlfriend for this to happen, and so far, he’s zero for zero in that department.”

  Maxon picks up a stale, half-melted piece of candy from off the dashboard and chucks it at Clove, pegging him square between the eyes. “Shut up. Like you’ve done any better.”

  Clove rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Um, hello, I’m three for three, dude.”

  Maxon snorts a laugh. “Lydia and Laura don’t count.”

  “They do, too,” Clove retorts then frowns. “Wait. Why don’t they count?”

  “Because you went out with each of them once and didn’t even kiss them,” Maxon says with a smirk.

  “If that’s the rules we’re playing by, then you’re zero for zero on everything. Well, unless you count your pillow. Then you’re one for one.” Clove picks up the melted piece of candy and pelts it at Maxon.

  Maxon tries to duck out of the way, but ends up bumping his head into mine.

  “Ow.” I press my fingers to my throbbing forehead.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he sputters. “Are you okay?”

  My eyes start to water. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure my skull didn’t crack.”

  He gently pries my fingers from my head and slants forward to examine my eyes, his warm breath tickling my cheek and eliciting a shiver from me. “Is your vision okay?”

  I nod, dazed by his nearness. “Yeah … fantastic.”

  “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to my forehead, and the edges of his lips tug downward. “Crap, you’re probably going to have a goose egg.”

  “Maybe you should inspect her throat and lips, too. Make sure she has a completely thorough examination.” Clove laughs at his own joke as he opens the door and dives out.
r />   Shaking his head, Maxon scoots toward the door. “Man, he’s on one today.”

  “You mean, he’s in another one of his moods?”

  “Kind of. But I’m not sure this one’s a good mood.”

  “He’s in a bad mood? If that’s his bad mood, then holy crap, he’s a pretty happy guy.”

  “No, he’s not in a bad mood. I think he’s in a try-to-start-trouble mood, which means we better get in there and make sure he doesn’t.” He grabs the door handle, pushes open the door, and then swings his legs out.

  I climb out, too, stretching my arms above my head as I yawn. “He’s not, like, going to get into a fight or something, is he?”

  “Not intentionally. But when people don’t understand his humor, sometimes fights end up happening.”

  “Like fist, ninja, badass kicking, bar brawls type of fights?”

  His lips quirk as he opens the door to the gas station. “Not quite that intense, but there has been a fist thrown a time or two.”

  “Did he get hurt?” I ask, stepping into the store.

  “The first time he got into a fight, he tried to give this big speech to ease over the situation and ended up getting a black eye.” He walks in behind me, releasing the door. “The second time, he ducked.”

  A giggle escapes me, and I slap my hand over my mouth. “Sorry, that was totally inappropriate. I just got this really funny mental picture.”

  “It was pretty funny to watch it happen.” He skims the store until he spots Clove near the freezers, alone and not starting any fights. He visibly relaxes and nods at me to follow him. “Come on; I’ll buy you two slushies.”

  I shuffle after him. “You don’t need to do that. Besides, I don’t think I could drink two.”

  “One’s to press against that mini Mount Everest growing on your forehead,” he explains as we pass Clove. “The second is an apology for how I’ve acted the last twenty-four hours. I know I’ve been acting kind of offish. I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”

  I snag Clove’s gaze as we pass him. He was right; Maxon did get over his silent treatment mood almost twenty-four hours later on the dot.