1982: Maneater (Love in the 80s #3)

by Cambria Hebert

  1982: Maneater

  Vol. 3

  Cambria Hebert

  Cambria Hebert Books, LLC

  Contents

  Copyright

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  About the Author

  Sneak Peeks

  1980: You Shook Me All Night Long

  1981: Jessie’s Girl

  1983: Cruel Summer

  1982: Maneater

  Copyright © 2016 by Cambria Hebert. All rights reserved.

  Including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design of Mae I Design and Photography

  Edited by Crystal Bryant of Plot Ninja

  Formatted by Indie Formatting Services

  Watch out, girls. Here she comes.

  There’s always that girl. She’s popular, beautiful, and has everything together. The one with the perfectly teased hair, arms full of colorful (but coordinated) bangles, and expertly painted bright-pink lips.

  A teacher’s pet. Daddy’s girl.

  Everyone loves her.

  Because everyone is afraid to challenge her.

  Kelly Ross is that girl. She uses her powers of popularity for good… her own good. She doesn’t care who she hurts.

  She always gets what she wants.

  Including your man.

  When she walks down the hallway in her hot-pink heels and ruffled denim miniskirt, all the boys’ heads turn. And all the girls start whispering.

  Man-eater.

  There hasn’t been a single guy Kelly hasn’t been able to chew up and spit out.

  Until now.

  Kelly has finally met her match. He’s been there all along, and he’s the exact opposite of everything you’d expect.

  Get in on the lingo!

  Please enjoy the popular 1980 slang terms at the top of each chapter!

  They’re totally rad!

  *Terms were found at www.inthe80s.com/glossary. Definitions were modified and not copied exactly.

  Airhead – An insult. A way to call someone stupid.

  There are two kinds of people in this world. Me and everybody else.

  Go ahead, roll your eyes. Think what a spoiled, egomaniac I am. I am spoiled and I do have a lot of confidence, so you wouldn’t be wrong. But I’m not wrong either.

  In high school everyone has roles to fill. Teachers are the authorities of the hallway, the cheerleaders are the peppy ones. The kids who like science and math are geeks. There’s the jocks, the band members, the creative types in art and music. The kids who wear all black are the ones we all avoid and then there is the group of people I belong to:

  The popular ones. At Edward Little High we were called The Choice. Why?

  Because if asked who would you most want to be friends with, everyone always said us. We were the ultimate choice.

  I was the leader, the one everyone wanted to be.

  If I wasn’t me, I’d want to be me too.

  I glanced at the clock on Brett’s Audi and snapped my gum. Perfect timing as usual. We would be arriving at the optimum time for everyone to see my entrance. It was the best part of my day. Brett pulled to a stop at the curb and smiled brilliantly from beneath his letterman’s jacket.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I smiled.

  “Right here,” he said and patted his cheek. I giggled and leaned in to kiss it.

  Just before I made contact he turned his head and our lips collided. I kissed him for a minute until his tongue started getting too curious and then pulled back to check my lipstick in the overhead mirror.

  “We still on for this weekend?” he asked.

  I was getting bored of Brett. “Call me!” I said, and blew him a kiss.

  He turned the radio up as I was getting out and “Hurts So Good” played loud behind me.

  It was a good song to make an entrance to.

  Every girl needs to make an entrance. It’s part of her signature.

  My hot pink high heels hit the sidewalk and I straightened. My blue jean skirt was brand new and had a bunch of totally rad colorful ruffles on it. My neon green top was spandex and fit like a glove.

  On my arm I wore my entire collection of neon bangles. I had them sorted by color so it looked like a rainbow wrapped around my arm. I liked the sound they made when I walked, so I swung my arm just a little more than I needed too.

  My blond hair was totally teased. I was having a good bang day. They were super high and I made sure they stayed that way with half a can of hairspray before I left the house. Because I felt like being edgy, I wore a white lace glove on my left hand. By the end of the week everyone would be wearing the same thing.

  I started walking down the center of the sidewalk, strutting my stuff like I was a model. The big plastic earrings in my ears moved with every step and I smiled and waved at everyone as I walked by.

  “You look fresh, today!” I called to one of the cheerleaders.

  “Wasn’t that the quarterback of our rival, Allegany High?” my best friend Mandy asked and took up her place beside me.

  “He’s been driving me all week,” I said, wondering why she hadn’t noticed until now. She was supposed to pay attention to everything that happened around here. Especially with me, her best friend.

  “He’s so dreamy,” she sighed.

  Of course he was. And the leader of The Choice at our rival high school seemed to think so too. I saw her at a party last weekend and she had the nerve to act like my group was somehow less than hers. I don’t think so. Wonder what she thought now that I was number one in her man’s eyes.

  I glanced over at Mandy’s outfit and rolled my eyes. “Those shoes are grody.”

  She made a sound. “They look almost exactly like yours, Kelly.”

  I snapped my gum. “Exactly. You’re totally copying.”

  “It’s just shoes.”

  This was going to require some kind of lesson. She should know better than to try and match my outfits. We’d been friends since third grade, Mandy knew the rules. Her attention to everything going on around her needed some kind of snap back into reality.

  “Like, oh my god, did you hear?” Mandy said, totally oblivious to my wrath. “We have a pop quiz in science today.”

  “Gag me with a spoon,” I replied, my eyes sweeping ahead of me as we walked inside the school.

  Everyone watched me as Mandy and I made our way to the rest of our group near the lockers. Mandy’s boyfriend, Tad, was there as well. He was a jock. If he didn’t play soccer, his role wouldn’t be so high at school, but he did and he had a nice butt so that made him one of The Choice.

  Today he was wearing a pair of white pants that totally hugged his best asset. His short dark hair was styled neat and I smiled.

  Once I locked my eyes on a target I always, always got what I wanted.

  He caught my catlike smile and his cheeks flushed. Beside him was his friend Brandon. I dated him last summer. He was
one of my longer relationships, lasting a whole two weeks.

  Before me, he’d been dating one of the peppy girls, but one look from me and he forgot her name. Then, he forgot mine.

  Refusing to admit defeat, or show even the slightest amount of weakness, I turned the full stare of my baby blues on him. I glanced him up and down, made a sound, and rolled my eyes. “Really, Brandon. Don’t you think the phase of wearing mismatched socks is totally past its expiration date? It just isn’t cute anymore. In fact, it kind of makes you look a tad bit warped.” As I lectured him, I turned toward Mandy and stuck my finger down my throat like I wanted to gag.

  Truth was, I used to totally think his mismatched socks were cute.

  Not anymore.

  Everyone in our little group laughed. Brandon’s face darkened. I saw words form on his lips – some sort of sharp comeback – and I felt the sharp sting of panic.

  Maybe I pushed him too far. Maybe asserting my power wasn’t a good idea. He could make things hard for me. He could challenge my place at the top with a few nasty words.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  The panic tasted bitter when I swallowed it down and gave him a totally heinous look. If he took me down, I’d take him down harder. He knew I could do it. I let him see the absolute resolve in my eyes before I dropped them down to stare at the front of his pants.

  Brandon blanched. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

  I spun away, dismissing him completely.

  “I’m totally wiggin’,” Cindy said. She was wearing a pair of jeans with a flowered tight top. Her earrings were huge plastic circles that touched the side of her neck when she moved. Her dark hair was teased to the max and in the center was a neon headband. “Did you hear about the pop quiz?”

  “Totally,” I echoed and opened my locker. When I did, I slid a private smile toward Mandy’s boyfriend. “Hey, Tad. Would you mind reaching that for me?”

  I pointed a perfectly painted nail to the top shelf of my locker at my science book. “I would do it myself, but those geeks back there would totally try and look up my skirt.”

  He straightened off the lockers and glared at the three geeks across the hall. Two of them actually wore thick framed glasses. One of them had on suspenders. “Beat it, losers!” he yelled.

  The geeks took off and I laid my hand on his shoulder. “My hero.”

  His chest puffed out when he reached for my book.

  “What’s going on?” Mandy said, coming to stand beside her boyfriend.

  “Tad was just being super sweet and getting my book for me. You know how those geeks like to stare.” I rolled my eyes and blew a bubble with the pink gum in my mouth.

  “So ew.” She nodded.

  “Mandy, would you totally be a best friend and run to the cafeteria to get me a juice? I forgot to eat this morning and I’m feeling like I’m gonna drop dead.”

  “Don’t you pass the cafeteria on your way to homeroom?” she asked, tucking her books against her chest.

  “Don’t you want to make it up to me about the shoes?” I pinned her with a direct stare.

  She walked off in the direction of the cafeteria and Tad started behind her. I grabbed his arm. “Would you mind staying here? I feel wretched.”

  Brandon glanced over and gave me a look. I glared daggers at him and he walked away.

  “Thank goodness you were here this morning,” I told Tad, “Mandy sure is lucky to have you.”

  “If you ever need anything just yell,” he said, tossing back his hair even though it was too short to need tossing. “I’ll always be here for Mandy’s best friend.”

  I widened my eyes and stared up at him. “Just because I’m Mandy’s best friend?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, no.”

  “Can you keep a secret, Tad?” I fingered the front of his shirt.

  “Of course.”

  I leaned forward and whispered. “Sometimes I wish I’d met you first.”

  “Uh… really?” he stuttered.

  I nodded and pulled back from him. My heels were so high I teetered a little and made a small shrieking sound.

  Before I could fall back into the lockers Tad slipped an arm around my waist and righted me. “Whoa, I think those shoes are dangerous.”

  I leaned into his chest. “That’s the second time today you’ve saved me.”

  “It wasn’t anything,” he said, his eyes dipping down to look at my pink lips.

  Inwardly I smiled and leaned even closer, tipping my head back to give him an even better view of my mouth. “How will I ever thank you?”

  “No thanks necessary.”

  “Does Mandy know how lucky she is?” I whispered.

  “I’m not sure.” He cleared his throat. We were still pressed together and I could feel the rapid beat of his heart.

  “Maybe you could give me a ride home from school today?” I asked innocently, dragging a nail down the center of his chest.

  “Sure,” he bobbed his head up and down.

  “Rad.” I pulled back and smiled at him.

  Seconds later Mandy appeared carrying an orange juice in a plastic container. “Here you go, Kelly. Are you feeling better?”

  I glanced at Tad with a secretive expression. “Much. I’ll see you in science!” I wagged my fingers at them both and strutted off down the hall.

  Everyone I passed by turned to watch me leave. I heard a few whispers, but I didn’t need to hear what they were saying. I already knew. The envious looks I got said it all.

  The second I turned the corner I tossed the juice in the trash.

  By the end of today I’d have Mandy’s boyfriend eating out of the palm of my hand.

  Barf me out – saying this expressed something you do not like.

  Do people change?

  Or do they always stay the same?

  That’s more of a philosophy question. I’m more of a science guy.

  I like tangible theories that can be measured, questions with answers that have irrefutable proof. I’m not much for matters of the mind with no exact equation, therefore without exact answer.

  I’ve heard it said that the more people change, the more they stay the same.

  That statement is confusing. Whatever “great” mind came up with the saying probably was a philosophy major and had no knowledge of scientific reasoning.

  It’s a false notion.

  A mathematical and scientific fact. In an equation, a + b = c. If even just one variable is changed, the entire equation changes, the answer does not remain the same.

  If math and science don’t give enough irrefutable proof, the world I live in does. In the universe of high school and growing older, everyone changes. It’s a natural evolution of life.

  I see her every day. Even without my glasses, my eyes would still make out her shape.

  She’s one of those girls the eyes must look at, just like the lungs must breathe oxygen. Her presence is loud in the hallways of Edward Little High.

  Yet her reputation is quiet… at least the real one anyway.

  Whispers. I hear them. When you are invisible, or thought to only think about equations and charts, people think you don’t listen. But I hear.

  I listen.

  It’s how one learns.

  The Choice thinks they know everything, but the people who know the most in this school are the ones who are known the least.

  I’m practically a shadow, practically a ghost.

  “Beat it, losers!” Tad yells from across the hall. My friends and I look up, surprised he’s talking to us.

  Okay, maybe I’m not as invisible as I thought.

  I glance at Kelly as we scurry off.

  Or maybe, I’m only visible when my presence is useful.

  I knew Kelly once, a long time ago. Practically in another life. We aren’t friends. She probably doesn’t even remember my name. I remember hers.

  I remember the way she used to twist her Oreos in two and hand me the side with the most cream. T
he way she would grab my hand and pull me off to play before who we were got in the way.

  I remember when she was nice.

  As I walk to class, my two friends by my sides, I tune out their conversation and wonder. I saw the way Kelly was looking at Tad, her best friend’s boyfriend. It was a sign. Kelly was gearing up to take down another one. It was a pattern. Patterns always repeat themselves.

  This time, I wondered if she would go too far.

  Kelly was the reason I was spending my time on an internal philosophical debate. Do people change? The theory was no.

  I was seeing evidence to the contrary.

  The girl I knew all those years ago would never act the way she does now.

  But she does.

  The whispers follow her around the hall.

  People do change.

  Sometimes it’s not for the better.

  411 – to get information (get the 411)

  You know why teachers give pop quizzes? To make our lives just as awful as theirs.

  I’m pretty sure I failed the science quiz. It might as well have been in German. Who cared about science anyway? As we exited the class, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at a familiar figure and grimaced.

  Science geeks, that’s who.

  Thank God it was over. I went to my locker, which was already surrounded by my friends, and fixed my lipstick in the small mirror I kept inside. Everyone was already talking about this weekend and the secret party one of the jocks was having at his house because his parents were going to be out of town.

  The last party he had pretty much became a legend around here because it was so wild, but somehow the adults never found out. So obviously the anticipation for this one was high.

  Mandy leaned up against the locker beside mine, holding her books in front of her and sighed. “I so want to blow off piano lessons and go to the mall. I need a new outfit for the party this weekend.”

  “Mr. Harvey would totally rat you out to your mom and then you’d never be able to come this weekend,” I told her, closing up my lipstick and tossing a few books in my bag.