I wrestle back a giggle. “Like SpongeBob?”
“Then that must make you Squidward.”
“You so did not just go there.”
“Oh, I so did.” He grins wickedly. “So, if I were you, I’d think of someone better.”
“Fine.” I tap my finger against my lip. “How about the Mad Hatter?”
“And that would make you Alice?”
I lower my hands from his shoulders. “That wouldn’t be so bad. I’ve always wanted to go to Wonderland.”
“Really?” Excitement gleams in his eyes. “I could maybe make that happen for you … maybe.”
“Because you invented some sort of machine that can transport people into stories?” I tease lightly, just kidding. Well, mostly.
“No. I know of a Wonderland-themed party happening on Saturday. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to bring a guest or not, but maybe I could look into it.” He eyes me over with intrigue. “Why does it seem like you might actually believe I invented a storybook transporting machine?”
“Because you’ve invented a lot of strange-looking stuff,” I say without too much forethought.
He carries my gaze. “Oh, yeah, and how do you know that?”
Face palm. Did I seriously just admit out loud that I spy on him? Because that’s pretty much the only time I’ve seen his inventions.
“I’ve seen your stuff in class.” Not totally a lie, I guess. I did see his stuff in class one time.
Before he can say anything, Clove turns down the dirt road.
Yes! Saved by the beast car.
“Oh, look, there’s Clove.” I watch the car zoom up the road, struggling to ignore Maxon’s gaze boring into the side of my head. But it’s all I notice, and my cheeks glow like dopey fireflies.
Clove doesn’t slow the car down until he’s a few feet away from the driveway. Then he slams on the brakes, kicking up a large cloud of dust into our faces.
“Great.” Maxon coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “He’s in one of his moods.”
“A bad mood?” I ask, fanning the dirt away.
He turns around to pick up the box in his driveway. “Nope, quite the opposite.”
“Like a super good mood?” I ask.
Before he can answer, Clove hops out of his car.
“Well, hello, my lovely taxi riders,” Clove greets us as he stretches his arms above his head. He’s wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, and Converse sneakers that have a few paint droplets on the tips. I’ll admit, he looks cute, in a grungy, slightly bad boy sort of way. Although, from what I’ve seen, he’s far from being a bad boy. “What a fine morning we’re having, isn’t it?”
I peer up at the cloudy sky. “Um … Sure.”
He aims a finger at me. “That didn’t sound very convincing.”
I clear my throat then jump up and down while clapping. “What a fantastic morning! It’s so great that I’m going to do this crazy and silly cheer just to prove it.” I stop jumping and smile at him. “There? Was that better?”
He stares at me, stunned. Then he grins. “I like you. I like you a lot.” He turns to Maxon with his hands clasped in front of him. “Max, please say we can keep her. Pretty, pretty please.”
“Hey, who said I wanted to be kept?”
“You’re saying you don’t?”
I give a second of thought before shaking my head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, then.” He teases me with a knowing smile then looks at Maxon. “So, can we keep her or what?”
I glance at Maxon. “So, you’re the boss, huh?”
“Apparently.” He passes us, carrying the box toward the car. “At least, according to Bouncy McGee over here.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t declare your leadership when we were in fifth grade,” Clove says with an eye roll.
“Did he really do that?” I ask Clove as Maxon pops the trunk.
Clove nods. “He stood in front of our group and gave a huge speech about how he should be the leader of our science group. Then he made us read through a ten-page PowerPoint presentation that was somehow supposed to prove he was right for the job, when really it just made me hate PowerPoint presentations.”
I giggle. “You guys are silly.”
“Do you mean we’re silly, like ha, ha? Or silly like …?” He rotates his finger around his temple, going cross-eyed.
I bust up laughing, nearly peeing in my pants, and he laughs, too, elatedly.
“I mean silly in a good way,” I say after my laughter and bladder settle down.
He pretends to wipe sweat from his brow. “Good, because I’d be devastated if you thought I was some silly, goofy dummy.”
“Actually, I heard you’re quite the opposite,” I tell him as we hike down the driveway to his car. “When it comes to computers anyway.”
“Some might say so.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Who told you that?”
I point at the passenger side of the car where Maxon is waiting for us. “He might have mentioned it.”
“Hmm …” Clove studies me with amusement. “And, why did Maxon tell you this?”
“Because I asked him which one of you is computer smart.”
“And why would you want to know that?”
Why do I get the feeling he already knows?
“Because I have a favor to ask.”
He crosses his arms. “And what would the favor be?”
I glance at Maxon, recalling what he said about me batting my eyelashes to get my way. He’s fighting back a smile, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
To prove him wrong, I hold my eyelids open, probably making myself look like a possessed doll, but whatever. “I need you to hack into one of Queeny’s social media accounts,” I tell Clove.
He blinks, his arms falling to his sides. “Holy shit. Are you being serious?”
I nod reluctantly, worried I crossed a line. “Yeah … But you don’t have to. I know it’s a really big favor—”
“A big favor?” He gapes at me with his hands spanned at his sides. “Do you know how illegal that is?”
“I’m sorry,” I sputter out because, holy angry trolls, he seems mad. “I shouldn’t have asked—”
He hunches over, howling with laughter. “Ash, I’m just messing with you.” He dabs tears from his eyes. “Oh, my God, you should’ve seen your face. It was classic.”
I lightly swat his arm. “That’s not funny.” But I’m having a difficult time not laughing, too. “I seriously thought you were mad at me.”
“I’m sorry.” He gives my arm a gentle pat. “To make up for it, I’ll hack into her account.”
“That sounds like a fair enough apology.” I struggle to keep a straight face.
He grins then strolls toward the driver’s side of his car, chuckling under his breath.
I head to the passenger side where Maxon is standing with the door open, an amused and very sexy half-smile on his face.
“Told you he was in one of his moods,” he tells me as I approach.
“Yes, you did.” I stop beside him and tilt my head up to meet his cloudy grey eyes. “So, does this mean he’s going to joke and giggle about everything?”
He nods, resting his elbow on top of the open door. “And it’ll get worse throughout the day, so make sure you keep your guard up.”
Will I even see them throughout the day?
That thought makes my good mood bubble pop.
Trying not to frown, I lower my head and slide across the leather seat beside Clove. Maxon follows, shutting the door. Then Clove drives off down the road while I sit quietly, twiddling my thumbs and trying to figure out the best way to ask if we’re going to hang out at school.
God, I’m so lame. When did I get so silly about asking people to hang out with me? Jesus, Ash, you’re acting like you’re eleven years old again.
Maxon unexpectedly places his hand over mine. “Are you nervous about the photo?”
; I blink up at him, my stomach acting all sorts of crazy from his touch. “What?”
“What photo?” Clove interrupts as he brakes for a stop sign.
“You look nervous.” Maxon ignores Clove and gives a look at my fidgeting hands. “Is it because you’re worried about the photo getting sent out to everyone?”
“No. Honestly, I haven’t thought about the photo since Jokester over here showed up.” I nod in Clove’s direction.
“Glad I can be of service.” He smiles then frowns. “But seriously, what photo?”
Sighing, I quickly explain what happened, showing him the photo.
He laughs his ass off at the sight of it. “That’s the worst Photoshop job I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, I know.” I put my phone back into my pocket. “That doesn’t mean people won’t believe it.”
“True.” His laughter fizzles. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“We?” I question in a light tone. Really, though, I’m freaking the crazy unicorns out that he’ll retract his “we” statement. And he should. He really, really should.
Maxon nudges my shoulder with his. “I thought we agreed to be friends yesterday?”
“We did.” I look at him, tucking a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. “But I wasn’t sure what that meant—if our friendship applied during school hours. In fact, you guys should stay away from me while we’re at school so you won’t have to deal with Queeny while she’s in full demolish Ashlynn mode.”
He trades a look with Clove before fixing his eyes on me. “What kind of friends would we be if we bailed on you when things get ugly?”
“Um, the smart kind. I know a lot of people who would.”
“Well, the people you know suck,” Clove chimes in. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I pick at my fingernail polish in a pathetic attempt to hide how much I truly don’t want to say what I’m about to. “Still, I wouldn’t think any less of you if you don’t want to hang out with me while we’re at school, especially when I’ve only been your friend for less than twenty-four hours. I’m pretty sure there’s time left on the return policy. You could give me back.” To whom, though, since no one else wants me?
They grow quiet, and I start to squirm with nervousness. What else did I expect?
This is how it should be, and I need to be okay with it, I try to convince myself while my aching heart laughs at me.
“Nah, I think we’ll keep you,” Clove announces, breaking the silence.
My stomach does somersaults.
“Are you sure?” I double-check, glancing from him to Maxon.
Maxon slips his arm across the seat behind me, and I fight the compulsion to rest my head back.
“Of course we’re sure. We never take anyone into our group unless we’re sure,” Maxon says, brushing his fingers against my hair.
Whether the move is intentional or not, I haven’t got a spaztastic clue, but my, oh my, it feels wonderful. I want to ask him if he knows what he’s doing it; why he’s so sure about me. I want to ask him if the rest of his group will be so sure; tell him that he probably shouldn’t be so sure of me. I want to tell him a lot of things, like everything, especially about what I did last fall to him and his friends. However, terrified they’ll dropkick me to Loserville, I remain mute.
When my phone buzzes, I claw into the distraction from my guilt-ridden thoughts and hastily dig it out of my pocket.
Queeny: Who’s the biggest coward in all of Fareland? Do you know the answer, Ash? Because I sure do, and I’m going to prove it. Secret #2 is out. Can’t wait to see your face at school. xoxo
I want to text back and tell her she’s wrong, that I’m not a coward. Then I think about the secret I haven’t told Maxon and Clove, and I wonder if maybe Queeny’s right.
Perhaps I really am the biggest coward in all of Fareland.
12
I decide to keep the text a secret, figuring I’ve piled enough baggage onto my day-long friendship with Maxon and Clove.
Ten minutes later, we park in the school parking lot and the cloudy sky begins to grumble with an impending storm. I pretend I’m fantastically cool about being at school as I climb out of the car and sling the handle of my bag over my shoulder, yet my heart refuses to chillax.
“Are you going to be in Mr. Chester’s classroom at lunchtime?” Clove asks as we wait for Maxon to get his box from the trunk.
“Probably. It’s where I ate lunch yesterday.” I act like people aren’t staring at me as they pass by, though I feel like I’m center stage and am about to puke from stage fright.
“Cool.” Clove absentmindedly tousles his hair. “I’ll check out a laptop from the computer lab so we can try to start on that thing you need me to do.”
“Isn’t it risky to do that on a school computer?” I keep my voice low and out of reach of gossiping ears. “I think the lab aid keeps a record of what computers get checked out and by whom.”
“Not if I don’t properly sign one out.” He grins, jolting as thunder rumbles.
I slip on my oversized sunglasses, more for protection from the stares than the nonexistent sunlight. “You’re going to steal one?”
He glances up as lightning streaks across the sky. “I prefer the term ‘borrowing without permission.’ ”
“Clove, I don’t want you to get in trouble over this.”
“I won’t get in trouble. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay … But promise me you won’t do it if you think you’re going to get in trouble.” I stick out my hand with my pinkie hitched out. “In fact, you have to pinkie swear it.”
He hitches his pinkie with mine with a thoughtful look. “Who would’ve thought Ashlynn Wynterland would be such a worrier?”
“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” I wink, wishing I felt as lighthearted as I sound.
He chuckles, unhooking his pinkie from mine. “Quit stealing my moves and get your own.”
I smile. Then any ounce of happiness gets left behind as we start making our way across the parking lot and toward the school’s entrance. I keep my eyes glued to Clove’s back, trying to disregard all the people who’ve clearly never heard how staring is rude.
“This is going to be a long day,” I mutter, pressing my fingers to the brim of my nose.
“I’m sure it’ll tone down by lunchtime,” Maxon says. When I give him a doubtful look, he sighs. “Okay, maybe I’m being too optimistic. At least you’ll get a break from it during lunchtime while we’re in Mr. Chester’s classroom.”
I tighten the knot of the plaid jacket tied around my waist. “You guys will be there at lunchtime today?”
He nods, hopping up onto the curb. “The only reason we weren’t there yesterday was because we were at the university, trying to plead our case.”
I slow down as we near the glass entrance doors. “Plead your case about what?”
“About us being able to enter the science fair this year,” Clove explains, pulling open the door for us. “Last year, we were accused of cheating and got disqualified from the competition.”
“But we didn’t cheat.” Maxon moves the box to his side and turns sideways to maneuver through the doorway. “Someone set us up.”
“Oh.” A ginormous lump crams into my throat. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” Clove waits for me to step into the hallway before joining my side, letting the door bang shut behind us.
Down the hallway, Huntley is waiting by his locker, looking in our direction. As soon as he spots us—or well, more like me—he shakes his head in disgust and walks away. I feel bad, not only because he clearly despises me, but because I think my presence might be keeping him from Maxon and Clove.
“What really sucks, though,” Clove continues, “is they aren’t letting us compete this year either. And first prize is a scholarship, which all of us could use really effing badly.”
If a guilty conscience could kill, I’d be dead where I stand.
“D
o you know who set you up?” I cringe as my voice goes up an octave, but Maxon doesn’t seem to notice, shaking his head as we push our way through the throng of people clogging up the hallway.
“It was probably a team from another school,” he replies.
I fiddle with the clasp on my leather bracelet. “Why would they do that?”
“Because we always win,” Clove explains, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
My gut twists and turns, clenching so tight that I worry I’m going to yack my breakfast all over the stained tile floors.
Just tell them, Ash! Be a better person than you used to be!
“So, you weren’t able to talk them into letting you participate this year?” I’m the worst person in all of Fareland.
Maxon smiles sadly. “We weren’t persuasive enough.”
“That’s because we all suck at debate, especially Kinslee. She’s way too aggressive. We never should’ve let her talk.” Clove slows to a stop as we reach his locker.
“Yeah, perhaps.” Maxon stops beside him. “Honestly, I don’t think it would’ve made a difference. The committee seemed like they had their minds made up the moment we walked into the room.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Clove spins the locker combo. “I don’t know, though. Maybe if Ash were there, things might’ve gone differently.” He grins at me. “She did talk me into hacking into an account for her.”
“I’m not sure if I really talked you into it, so much as guilt tripped you into it.” Because I’m a manipulator. An evil manipulator who does horrible things to the sweetest guys. “I have to get to class. See you guys at lunch.” I throw a panicked wave at them then rush down the hallway. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I’m not just the worst person in Fareland, I’m the worst person in the world,” I say under my breath as I weave my way through the crowd and toward the bathroom.
Every single person I pass stares at me, but the derisive gawking has become easier to endure now that I’m too busy drowning in guilt. I feel like I can barely keep my head above water, and it’s only a matter of time before I sink to the bottom. If I ever manage to confess what I did to Maxon and Clove, no one will come to my rescue.
Isn’t that how this should go? If you were a good person, it would be.
Opposite of Ordinary: A Reverse Harem Series (The Fareland Society Book 1) Page 13