by Cole Gibsen
I needed a distraction.
Thanks to Nolan, I had that picture-book assignment to work on. The sooner I finished it, the sooner I would be done with him—for good, I promised myself. I searched the floor until I found a notebook and pen. I grabbed them and sat down at my desk. It wasn’t until I sat that the full force of the Xanax settled over me, heavy like a blanket. Sleep sounded awesome, but I couldn’t let the lure of my bed stop me. I pulled the cap off the pen and opened the notebook.
I needed a protagonist. I glanced around the room until my eyes settled on Carrot. I smiled. That was easy; now all I needed was a problem for him to solve. I tapped my pen against my chin. What kind of problems did five-year-olds have? Losing a tooth? Being scared of the dark? Those kinds of books were done all the time, and they felt so trivial.
My thoughts returned to my own problems, to the endless whispering, name-calling, and locker graffiti. Did four- and five-year-olds get bullied? Even if they did, how was I supposed to write about a solution when I hadn’t found one for myself?
I leaned back against my chair and sighed. This entire week had been a nightmare, and with Amber after me, I doubted it would get better. The only time I hadn’t completely hated my life this week was when I’d apologized to Julie Sims for what I’d said about her in the note. True, she hadn’t exactly forgiven me, but just saying the words had loosened the ever-tightening band around my chest.
And just like that, a story burst open inside my head. Without a single word written, I could see it unfold in its entirety. The beginning, the middle, the end, the whole thing was there, waiting to be let out.
A tremor of excitement broke through the medication in my blood and buzzed along my skin. I licked my lips and placed the pen against the paper, the words spilling out almost faster than I could write them.
Two hours later, I was finished. I tossed the pen onto the desk and traced my finger over the title:
Carrot the Bunny Says He’s Sorry
A Picture Book by Regan Flay
For the first time in days, I smiled.
Chapter Eleven
I’d been sitting in front of the school for so long that the coffee in my hand had grown cold. The morning was cloudy, elongating the shadows surrounding the school, bathing it in darkness. More than ever, the brick building before me felt like a dungeon.
I hadn’t been able to bring myself to leave the safety of my car. How long had I been sitting there, anyway? Several minutes? Half an hour? Time seemed to move differently now. In the beginning of the year when I had friends and clubs to keep me busy, there was never enough of it. Now that I was alone, the minutes dragged on into infinity.
More than ever, I needed a plan. I was tired of sitting and waiting for something to change. I knew from politics that time and patience were the only ways to deal with bad press. Well, that and a good PR firm. And since I was on my own, I’d have to create my own good press. But where to start?
I set my latte in the cupholder and thought of the small plastic cup the nurse had given me this morning before ushering me into a freezing bathroom with an even colder stainless steel toilet. Mom never even apologized when the drug test confirmed I’d been telling the truth. It was becoming all too clear that no matter what I did, I’d never measure up.
A black Toyota truck pulled into the empty spot beside my car. Nolan’s truck.
My pulse quickened as Payton opened the passenger-side door and climbed out. She paused, her gaze sweeping across the key mark on my car. Slowly, she met my eyes.
Still hurt over the way she’d treated me, I wanted to look away, to ignore her the way she’d ignored me. Instead, I opened my door and climbed out into the chilly, fall morning. Nearly ten years of friendship wasn’t something I could so easily push aside. “Hey,” I said.
She had shadows under her eyes, and wrinkles marred her uniform. I couldn’t decide if I was pleased or pissed she was suffering.
“Hey.” Payton nodded at my scratched car door. “That sucks.”
“A lot of things suck,” I replied. “And my car is the least of them.”
She chewed on her lip. “Things haven’t been so great for me, either.”
Irritation washed over me. How could she even say that? Her name was blurred out on the texts while mine was plastered across the school. She wasn’t the object of ridicule in the halls, and she certainly didn’t have her friends publicly turn on her. “You really had me fooled, Pay. Before this whole thing started, I honestly believed we were best friends.”
“That’s not fair.” Her eyes narrowed. “You were the one who called me annoying—who said I’m only good for gossip.”
I snorted. “If you believe that, maybe your brother was right, and we were never really friends at all.”
Nolan slammed the driver’s door and watched us from across the hood of his truck.
She glanced between him and me, a perplexed look on her face. “You guys have been talking?”
I folded my arms across my chest. No way was I answering such a loaded question. “So, what. You’re just going to believe Amber over your best friend who you’ve known since grade school? That makes a lot of fucking sense, Pay.”
She opened her mouth and closed it, her lips trembling like she was on the verge of crying. “Swear to it. Promise me you never said those things.” She raised her right hand, pinkie finger extended the way we used to do when we were eight.
“If we were really friends,” I said, “I shouldn’t have to.”
“I’m sorry, Regan. I thought we were best friends, too,” she responded, raising her hand so her pinkie finger hovered inches away from my nose. “But sometimes even best friends need assurance. According to your logic, being best friends means I’m not allowed to have a moment of insecurity?” Her voice raised an octave. “I guess I’m also not allowed to be confused or have any doubts because high school is so easy and makes total sense all of the time? I’m sorry, Regan, I fucked up…but so did you.”
I stared at her. I’d never seen her so worked up before. She stood staring at me, her eyes wide. A few strands of hair had fallen loose from her headband. Maybe I wasn’t the only one suffering, after all. “Jesus, Pay, when you put it like that—” I looped my pinkie with hers and tugged. “You’re my best friend. I never talked shit about you. I swear.”
Her eyes shifted from our joined hands to my face. When she spoke, her voice was softer. “Listen, I admit it was wrong of me to not listen to you, but after those messages were posted, Amber was saying all this stuff about you, and I just…panicked. I’m sorry.” After several shakes, she dropped my hand and tucked the loose strands of hair beneath her headband. “Can we please be okay again?” She smiled hopefully.
Even though the sting of her betrayal still throbbed deep inside me, I had to admit, she made a good point. We’d both made mistakes. How could I expect her to look past mine if I couldn’t look past hers? I returned her grin with my own. “We’re cool.”
Nolan moved around his truck and stopped in front of us. I tried to ignore how his nearness loosened the rope woven through my ribs.
“So what do we do now?” Payton asked. “About…” She jutted her chin toward the school.
“I honestly have no idea,” I answered. “My only real plan is to lie low until this blows over.”
Silence stretched among the three of us until Nolan cleared his throat. “What I don’t understand is why you even care. Everything that goes on inside that building is bullshit. None of it will matter in a couple of years. Why waste a second of your life worrying about what people—who you’ll never see again after you graduate—think? Fuck ’em.”
Payton snorted.
I, on the other hand, appreciated he was trying to make things better for once. “But it matters now. Speaking of”—I turned to Payton—“you should go. You shouldn’t be seen walking into school with me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought—”
“As much as it sucks to admit it, A
mber’s right about what she said the other day in the hallway. There’s no point in dragging you down with me.” I gave a weak smile. “This will blow over soon, right?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, but—”
“Please.”
Nolan gave her a gentle shove. “Go on. I’ll walk with her.”
She gaped at him, but he only grinned. “C’mon. What are they going to do to me?”
Payton seemed to consider his words for a moment before turning to me. “I’ll catch up with you later, though, okay?”
I nodded, and some of the weight lifted from my shoulders. While I knew our friendship was in no way solid, it still existed.
Payton scurried off toward the school and Nolan took her place, leaning against my car.
I bumped his shoulder with mine. Or, rather, his elbow. He was much taller than I thought. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.”
He looked at me, his hazel eyes devoid of their usual humor. “I want to.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I said nothing. After a while, the silence grew thick and heavy between us. When I could take it no longer, I unzipped my backpack, pulled out his blazer, and held it toward him. “Thanks.” I wanted to add, And not just for the jacket, but I wasn’t ready to go that far yet.
He said nothing and took the jacket. I watched as the fabric of his button-down shirt stretched tight over his surprisingly muscular chest—the very chest I’d been pressed against only yesterday. Dear God. Since when did I notice Nolan Letner’s chest? Sure, I’d thought he was cute, but not once had I thought about his cuteness in relation to me. I quickly shook away the thought.
After he slipped on the jacket, he remained at my side, not touching, not looking at me, and it was somehow exactly what I needed. “Are you ready to do this?”
I stared at the dark building, watching students trickle inside. “Not really, but I guess it’s too late to run away and join the circus.”
“Yeah. I think they like to train their trapeze artists early. It might not be too late if you wanted to be the bearded lady. I bet we could find you some steroids and—”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Pass.”
He cocked his head, his eyes serious again.
“What?”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile for real. It’s a good look on you, Flay.”
A blush warmed my cheeks, and I looked away before Nolan could see it. I was pretty sure I was too late, because he chuckled. “We’re going to be late,” I said. I pushed off my car and headed for the entrance; Nolan was at my side in an instant. For reasons I didn’t dare think about, I felt better with him beside me. Somehow, something had passed between the two of us—an understanding that maybe we weren’t so different after all.
“I finished writing the picture book,” I offered, just to fill the silence between us.
“Cool,” he said. “What time should I come over this weekend?”
I stopped. “What?”
He kicked at a loose rock on the ground. His discomfort was kind of…cute.
“You’re the author, so you’re going to have to give me artistic direction,” he said, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Plus, the average picture book is around thirty-two pages. That’s a lot of drawing. I’ll definitely need help with coloring.” When I didn’t say anything, he looked at me and frowned. “Did you expect me to do it all on my own?”
“No.” I knew we’d be working together—it just hadn’t occurred to me where. My house made as much sense as his. After all, my mom wouldn’t be able to complain about a boy coming over if we were working on an assignment.
But then a new thought occurred to me. If Nolan came over, he’d be in my house—possibly even my room. The thought of being alone with him made something flutter inside my stomach. “I-I guess that’s okay.”
He smiled. “Good.”
We traveled the rest of the way to the building in silence. When we reached the doors, several people called out to Nolan in greeting. He nodded and smiled at all of them. It was like he and I had traded social statuses. Or maybe I’d been so sure he was a freak, I never noticed he actually had friends. More than me, at the moment.
“Nolan?” Blake peeled herself away from a group of people and made her way toward us. “What are you doing?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Going to class.”
Her eyes flickered to me, and her mouth curled with disgust. The move made her lip piercing glint in the overhead lights. “With her?”
I flinched. The disdain in her voice was the same news anchors reserved for stories about puppy killers. As far as I knew, I’d never done anything to her, so I had no idea what her problem was.
Nolan opened the door. “If you’re asking me if I am entering the school building at the precise moment Regan Flay does, then yes.”
She opened her mouth to say more, but he cut her off. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, ushering me inside ahead of him.
I hoped the worst was behind us.
I was wrong.
“Look who it is,” a shrill voice called out.
Amber pushed through the crowd with a wide-eyed, bouncy-haired Taylor in tow. Jeremy and his friends followed closely at her heels.
Nausea rolled through me in waves. I was hoping to at least get through second period before anyone tried to pick a fight with me. Eluding Blake hadn’t been very hard, but we wouldn’t escape Amber so easily.
Nolan moved to my side, his hazel eyes practically shimmering with excitement. The muscles in his shoulders tightened as he drew them back. He looked eager for…something. I wasn’t sure what, or whether I wanted to know.
Amber swung her long black hair over her shoulder and placed a hand on her hip. “Isn’t that adorable? Apparently rejects attract other rejects.”
Nolan smiled. “Apparently the same can be said for douche bags—only it appears you guys travel in packs.”
Several bystanders laughed. Amber scowled at them. Jeremy stepped up beside her, his hands already balled into fists.
I tensed. Either Nolan didn’t realize he’d initiated a fight or he didn’t care. After how much time I’d spent with him the last two days, I was willing to guess the latter.
Amber fixed her heated gaze on me. “Seriously, Regan? Nolan Letner? Can’t say I’m surprised, especially when no normal guy will touch you. I heard how you threw yourself at Jeremy yesterday. You’re pathetic.”
Her sleazy boyfriend winked at me, and it was all I could do not to launch myself at him. “He wishes. Not only is he disgusting, he’s a liar.”
“Not as disgusting as you,” she replied. “You’re the dirty whore.”
Amber held out her hand. Beside her, Taylor withdrew a plastic bottle of Mountain Dew and handed it to her. “You’ve had everyone fooled into thinking you’re so innocent. Little Miss Perfect. Not anymore. Now you’re going to look as disgusting on the outside as you are on the inside.”
She started to shake the soda bottle.
I knew exactly where this was going. Last year, Amber had doused a freshman who’d bumped into her while she was applying her lipstick. For a split second, I considered pushing out the back door and making a break for it, but that would only make things worse. I’d be known as the girl who ran away. I lifted my chin and forced my face into an impassive mask. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me afraid.
Beside me, instead of bracing himself as I’d done, Nolan held up a finger. “Just a sec. This is exactly the kind of scene I need for my documentary—raw high school hallway footage. He reached into his book bag and withdrew his phone. He pressed a few buttons, then settled into place. “Okay, go ahead.” He motioned with his free hand for her to continue. “Just try to avoid the lens, okay?”
Amber hesitated, her eyes uncertain.
“What are you waiting for?” Taylor hissed, practically bouncing on her toes.
“I’m not going to get caught on camera. I’ll get expe
lled and my parents will shit.” Amber shoved the soda bottle into Taylor’s hands. “You do it.”
Taylor took a step back. “I-I can’t get in trouble. I’ll get kicked off the squad. This is my first year making it.”
It was true. Taylor had tried out both freshman and sophomore years and hadn’t made the team. Having been at the tryouts, I knew she was pretty good, too. If I were honest, I’d say she was even better than me. But being Amber’s friend, I’d been given the preferential treatment that I now realized I didn’t deserve.
Nolan snapped his fingers. “I don’t care who does it, but you need to decide fast. The warning bell is going to ring soon, and I don’t want to be late for class.”
Taylor turned to Jeremy. “You do it.”
He held up his hands and backed away. “Fuck you. I’m not doing your dirty work. I’m already on thin ice with the coach thanks to these two and a security guard who can’t keep his mouth shut. I’m not getting kicked off the wrestling team. None of you is worth that.”
The two guys with him laughed before erupting in a chorus of Ooohs.
Amber’s mouth dropped. She must not have been able to think of a snarky comeback, because she just glared at him. He shrugged and backed down the hallway with his friends following close behind.
“So wait, are you telling me nobody is going to spray us?” Still holding his phone, Nolan sighed. “That sucks. It would have been incredible footage.”
“Fucking loser,” Amber snarled. She grabbed the bottle from Taylor and threw it on the ground. The cap burst off, and a stream of Mountain Dew doused her and Taylor’s ankles.
Amber shrieked and scuttled backward. When the bottle emptied, she raised her head and glared at me. “This isn’t over.” She flipped me off before spinning on her heels and marching down the hall. Taylor scrambled to keep up.
Nolan aimed the phone at me. “Regan Flay, do you have any thoughts on what just happened here?”
I blinked. “Homeschooling is underrated?”
He laughed and, to my surprise, turned off the phone and stuffed it inside his bag.