****
I’m in the hallway heading to my locker when once again, I’m forced to endure the PDA fest between Olivette and Trivitt Jacobs. Okay, maybe calling it a PDA fest is exaggerating it a bit, but Trivitt is the last person I expected to see Olivette with.
Trivitt is like some form of God at the school, but if you ask my opinion he’s highly overrated. He’s as dumb as rocks, so dumb that he actually makes the stereotypical jocks seem like rocket scientists. Sure, he can throw a damn ball around, but what percentage of the brain does that use? I just don’t get all of the hype that surrounds him.
Trivitt and Olivette are the definition of royalty around here, the perfect couple. Everyone gushes about them. The girls all swoon with dreamy looks in their eyes saying how lucky Olivette is. The guys all have that look of jealousy, yet admiration for Trivitt because he managed to get Olivette. It’s all ridiculous if you ask me.
Once Triv turns to leave, Olivette’s cornflower blue eyes find mine from across the hallway. For a moment, it’s almost like we’re the only two in the crowded hallway. There’s something in her eyes and I want to say it’s some kind of silent plead, but I don’t know Olivette well enough anymore to know what’s in her eyes.
I end up glaring in her direction before turning back around to my locker. Pissed at myself I slam the locker shut and the sound echoes in the hallway. Quickly, I walk to class to get away from it all.
Chapter 2
Olivette
I hate that Penn hates me. The way he glares at me every time he sees me is like another knife in my back. It’s amazing I’m still walking at this point. So far, Chasity is the only person who hasn’t put a knife in my back.
I sigh heavily as I head for class knowing I’ll have to face Penn once again. Sharing classes is the hardest part. I often wish I wasn’t this smart, so I could just be in normal classes, away from him. The knife Penn left behind is the worst one though. I knew he didn’t agree with my decision to start cheering, but I never expected him to hate me for it. His words are carved into my skin, a constant reminder that he is right and that he knows me better than anyone. As I take my seat in class the memory comes back to me.
I had just finished at cheer practice. I was sweaty, sticky, and exhausted. I’d had plans with Penn but once again I was late. Cheer practice had run over the allotted time…again. I knew Penn was going to be so mad. I hated to leave him hanging all the time for something that I didn’t really care about. I could explain it to him, why I felt the need to do all of this? I should explain it to him, but I won’t. Penn has always been unapologetically Penn. He’s never felt the need to try and please anyone else. It’s all about Penn and what he wants for himself. I’ve always admired that about him, but it’s also the reason that I know he would never understand my reasons for doing what I’m doing now.
This isn’t for me, it’s for my parents. I’ve made my dad proud by bringing home the highest grades, but my mom has always had other expectations of me. Expectations that I’ve never met and now I’m finally trying. I wish I could tell Penn. I wish he would understand but he won’t. He’d just tell me why I shouldn’t suffer this for anyone else.
I sigh heavily as one of the cheer moms drops me off in front of my house. Dropping my bag off inside the garage I jog next door to Penn’s. I start to climb the tree house ladder when he appears. He shakes his head and starts to climb down, forcing me back to the ground. He doesn’t say anything. “Penn…,” I say once he’s facing me.
He raises his hand to stop me and crosses his arms over his broadening chest. He’s maturing, we both are, but seeing Penn with actual muscles is an odd sight. “Just don’t give me another excuse, Olivette.”
“I know you’re tired of hearing them, but cheer practice ran over,” I explain.
Penn scoffs. “Yeah, I gathered that since you’re still in your cheering workout outfit. I’m tired of every plan we make gets broken for cheering. Since when do you even care about being a cheerleader? I never even heard you mention wanting to do this then all of sudden it’s become your life. I know you Olivette, and I know this isn’t really you. We used to laugh at pep rallies while they cheered, talking about how dumb their dance moves were and now you’re one of them.”
I’m quiet as a lump the size of my pom-pom forms in my throat. “I know,” I whisper, afraid to talk any louder in case my voice breaks.
“Please, explain this to me. I’m trying to understand but I don’t. I’ve even tried to come up with theories. I’ve read over every possible curse or lore I could to try and figure out what’s gotten into you. So, please explain. You can give me that much after all of our years together,” Penn pleads with me.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, the explanation that he still won’t understand but wants so badly. They burn the back of my throat as I fight them back. He’s right, he deserves an explanation, but it won’t help so why waste the words. “You wouldn’t understand.”
His head falls back as he stares at the evening sky above us. The moon is just starting to make its way up over the trees. It’s quiet, eerily quiet, so Penn’s sarcastic laugh booms like a clap of thunder. “I wouldn’t understand. That’s great. You know what Olivette, you’re a sellout.”
His words shock me to my core. For someone like us who prides ourselves on being original and isn’t afraid to walk their own path, being called a sellout is one of the worst things to hear. The worst part is I can’t deny his accusation. It’s true, I am a sellout. I’m playing a part. I’m not walking my own path. I’m walking a path that someone else wants for me because one of my biggest fears is letting people down. Yet, I have been trying to make my mother happy. I’ve let Penn down. In this moment I can’t decide which one would hurt less to let down. Not that I have a say in it at this point. The hurt and anger is evident in Penn’s eyes. This damage is irreparable. With that realization comes the tearing of my heart.
You would think that when your heart is ripped apart that you’d die. I mean, the heart is a vital organ in the body. Some even say the most vital, so how is it that you can still stand, breathe, and think when your heart is being ripped to shreds.? My heart feels like the paper I used in my dad’s office floor stuffing in the shredder. I used to love to do that, but if I had any idea that this moment in my life would bring back that memory I would have never used that damn machine.
I should be on the ground, unmoving, staring at the sky as it fades to black and the stars start to peek through the sky. I shouldn’t be breathing or thinking with the pain ripping through my heart, but here I am doing everything I shouldn’t be doing.
Penn has always been the constant in my life. The one person that has always made me feel accepted for exactly who I am. The nerdy girl. The girl who loved odd things. The girl who found beauty in the ugly. The girl that would rather be home on a Friday night reading some silly book or research some urban legend instead of at the game with my peers. Truth is, I’ve never fit in this world but with Penn it’s different. He’s different which made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so different. Penn was my constant, but I’ve pushed him aside and now he’s not my constant.
My hurt turns to anger in a matter of seconds. Emotions and thoughts moving so fast through me that I can’t pick just one. Why can’t he see how much I don’t want this? Why can’t he see that I’m miserable? Why can’t he see that the only thing I want is to climb up to that stupid tree house and get lost in a good urban legend? Penn is supposed to know me better than anyone, yet he can’t see any of this. My words come out harsh but the stray tear that escapes is my giveaway. “Well, there’s no reason for this sellout to be seen with the likes of you anymore.” My voice breaks on the last word and I quickly turn on my heels and move through the back yard.
I’m halfway to my house when I hear Penn call my name, but I refuse to turn around. I refuse to let him see my tearstained face and red rimmed eyes. He doesn’t need to know how badly he’s hurt me. He doesn’t deserve this kind of
control over me, but he has it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
The memory haunts me during my loneliest times. On the nights when I’m reading by a flashlight way past my bedtime. In those moments when binge watching Supernatural and I already know about that urban legend. If only I had turned around that night. Maybe, we wouldn’t be in this predicament now. Maybe, things would have been different.
I sigh heavily as I get my things out for class, ready to take notes. His eyes on me, I can feel them. I’ll never understand why he stares. I’m well aware that he loathes me. Today just barely started and already I know it’s going to be crap. At least I have my day trip with Chasity tomorrow. Maybe, we’ll stop into the Conjurer’s apothecary.
****
Penn
By the time lunch rolls around my mood has only darkened farther. Bannen Flores, takes the seat next to me. Bannen has been my replacement best friend. Sort of how Chasity Green is Olivette’s. Bannen is too smart for his own good. What he lacks in height he makes up for in brains. He’s wearing his glasses today which means his allergies must be bothering him again and he can’t put his contacts in.
“Penn my man!” Bannen greets me. I just nod my head in return. I’m in no mood to talk but that never matters to Bannen. He’d talk to a deaf person. “What’s bugging you?” I shrug. “Olivette? Really, come on, man. Just talk to her. Who knows maybe she’s as miserable as you are.”
I swing my glare over to him. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s miserable. She seems so miserable right now sitting at the popular table with her dumb jock boyfriend on one side and emo wannabe cheerleading bestie on the other side.
Bannen busts out laughing. “Jealous much?”
My eyebrows shoot up above my glasses. “Jealous? Of what exactly?”
Bannen takes a bite out of his cheese fry, deliberately chewing so slowly it makes me want to strangle him. “Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe your biggest problem with Olivette isn’t actually with her or the fact you think she’s a sellout? Maybe, you’re jealous because she’s at the popular table and you’re not.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” I ask in disbelief.
Bannen shakes his head. “Nope, but I have another theory.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, this ought to be good,” I comment sarcastically, while placing my hands behind my head.
“You like Olivette.”
He makes the comment so easily, like it makes perfect sense when it doesn’t. “Really?”
Bannen nods while stuffing my cheese fries in his mouth. “Either you like her, or you love her.”
I choke on the sip of water I had decided to take. It was bad enough when he thought I liked her, but now I love her? I don’t even know how we got to this conversation, but we need to get off of it quickly. “You got me Bren! I’m just so in love with Olivette Sanders that I just can’t contain that little green monster of jealousy. Really it has nothing to do with Olivette, but everything to do with Trivitt and the fact that he stole my girl. Let me stand on top of the table and beat my chest like a caveman,” I tell him sarcastically.
“Whatever floats your boat,” he replies with a shrug of his shoulders.
I laugh and shake my head. “Do you realize how ridiculous this conversation sounds?”
“Only because you insist on not getting to the bottom of the problem you have with Olivette.”
“Spoken like a person who has spent way too much time on a therapist’s couch,” I comment. It’s a true statement none the less. As a kid his parents had him in and out of every therapist office in New Hampshire. Turns out Bannen was just so smart, no one in his family knew how to handle him. He’d get bored easy and cause trouble because he needed something to keep his attention. Eventually, they figured out.
Bannen smiles wide and proud. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing a therapist or being one. It’s a very high paying profession with a lot of reward.” I shake my head at him, but he continues. “Seriously, though I think you should at least try to talk to Olivette or the very least stop glaring at her every time you see her.”
I take my glasses off and rub my eyes. “I don’t mean to always end up glaring at her, it just happens.” I check the time on my grandfather’s watch. “The bell will ring in about four minutes; do you want to go ahead and head to class?” Bannen nods collecting his trash. I glance once more in Olivette’s direction, but I’m shocked to see it’s just her and Chasity sitting at the table now. Their heads together, each one with an ear bud in their ear, bouncing to some song.
As we make our way out of the cafeteria we decide to take the shortcut between the buildings. The passageway is narrow and no more than two people can fit through at a time, so it’s not used often but it’s the quickest way to advanced calculus.
We’re half way down the passageway when we here talking and heavy breathing. Bannen and I both stop but there’s not enough time to go back the other way. We move forward some more and to my surprise Trivitt steps out of the shadows of the doorway. “Come on babe,” he coos at the other person. A person I’m sure isn’t his girlfriend since last I checked she was still in the cafeteria.
Leah steps out of the shadows and wraps her arms around Trivitt’s neck, pulling his mouth down on hers. A rage breaks out in me, causing my blood to boil. I clench my hands into fists, throw my book bag to the ground, and move. I move toward them without even thinking about it. I stalk toward them and when Leah finally sees me she squeals and steps back. I hear Bannen calling my name, but I keep moving forward. Once I’m close enough I swing. Trivitt doesn’t have time to react so he takes the hit. It connects with his cheekbone, directly under his eye.
Trivitt stumbles but recovers quickly. He comes at me swinging but a little-known fact about me; I take boxing class three times a week in Concord. It’s my way of staying active and I love it. The classes are coming to advantage right now. When Trivitt swings I dodge his fist easily enough. He continues to try but never lands a punch. I only throw one more connecting with his ribs. Trivitt stumbles back into the wall, sweaty and gasping for breath. “What the hell Collins?”
“You have a girlfriend and it sure as hell isn’t Leah. This was a friendly reminder, I stalk toward him and when I’m close enough I lean in and whisper, “You should remember that in the future. Don’t you dare hurt Olivette.”
I turn around, grab my book bag, and pull the door open so hard that it slams into the brick wall behind. Bannen is following behind me with that stupid smirk on his face. I’m about to ask him what, when I realize that I don’t want the answer right now. I’ll just end up hitting him next.
As my anger starts to cool back down the realization of what I just did starts to hit me. I had moved without thinking. I just beat on the star athlete and town’s golden boy. My knuckles throb from the punches I landed. I sidetrack into the restroom, Bannen doesn’t follow. He must sense I need a minute to myself.
The bathroom is ice cold when I enter despite the nice weather outside. It’s so cold my skin breaks out in goosebumps and my breath comes out in little white puffs. I’m standing in the middle of the bathroom, completely alone when I hear a creaking noise coming from somewhere. I walk around looking in every stall but I’m alone.
I’m standing in the middle of the bathroom when the lights start to flicker above me. The chill that runs down my spine makes me shiver. A part of me wants to call out into the empty bathroom but I don’t want to sound stupid. I’ve made fun of every person that’s done that on a TV show or movie.
I shake my head at how ridiculous I’m being when something moves out of the corner of my eye. I swing back toward the mirrors, but nothing is there. I step closer, my breath coating the mirror with fog. When suddenly the fog morphs in front of my eyes. It looks like a girl crying and screaming. I stumble back until I hit the wall behind me. The lights begin to flicker faster, and my feet start to run for the door.
Once I’m outside, I lean back against the door,
gasping for breath. What the hell just happened?
Chapter 3
Olivette
I’m sitting in calculus when Penn enters a good five minutes after the bell, looking spooked. It’s not like Penn to be late without a reason or a pass from another teacher, but there is no yellow slip in his hand just a bewildered look on his face. Bannen sits up a little straighter watching him as he makes his way to the seat beside him.
During class I do my best to concentrate, but my eyes keep wondering over to Penn who seems completely on edge. His knee is bouncing under his desk, which is very unlike him. I notice that he hasn’t written a single note since he took his seat. As I’m scanning over his features, I notice his knuckles are red like he recently hit them on something.
I can’t help but worry about what is going on with him. After class I wait outside the classroom door for him. I’m not meaning to eavesdrop, but I can hear Bannen and him talking. “Man, what happened to you?” Bannen asks.
I can’t see Penn from where I’m standing but it takes him a while to answer. “Nothing,” he finally bites out.
“Is this about what happened earlier?” Bannen asks Penn.
Penn sighs. “No, let’s go to our next class.”
For some reason the tone of Penn’s voice has me scurrying around the corner and hiding in the shadow until I’m sure he’s gone. I wanted to ask him how he was. I wanted to offer him my notes. More than anything, I wanted him to look at me like he didn’t hate me.
A couple of hours later and I’m heading to the cheerleading room. It’s a small room a few doors down from the main gym. We don’t use it often, usually just before pep rallies or to practice when the basketball team needs the gym. As I enter I spot Chasity and make my way over to her. She extends her hand with a strawberry acai refresher from Starbucks. “When did you leave?”
“I didn’t. My parents brought it by just before I came in here. I snuck out real quick,” she says with a shrug and daredevil smile. I laugh and take the drink, sitting beside her as we both stretch out our muscles. She growls in frustration and when I look over at her, I see her struggling to get her hair up in the ponytail.
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