by Zara Rivas
"So get a new one," Casey dropped into the spot next to me, along with the smirk I knew would be there. Casey had been in two of the four classes I had before lunch and had kept up his staring contest through calculus as well. There was something unsettling about him.
Slowly, his friends appeared, some with lunch, some without. It was plain to tell that at McCormack High, this was the it group. I was beginning to sense that Casey was their leader.
"Katie, right?" a petite redhead sat in the empty chair on the other side of me.
"Yeah," I replied, poking my burger disdainfully. I was hungry, but the rubbery—I use the word loosely—meat before me was proving to be less like food and more like a tire.
"The burgers here are awful," she smiled warmly before offering me half of her sandwich, which I accepted gratefully. "I'm Erica Perron. We have English together."
I smiled, realizing how she knew my name. I could sense Casey on my other side. He was having an animated conversation with a couple guys, not paying me any attention, but I found myself hyper aware of his movements. His chair was so close to mine that when he shifted, his knee would tap mine. It was impossible to ignore—every time it happened my stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots.
"So where in Virginia were you from?" Erica asked.
"Well, uh, Quantico. But I'm not from there."
"Where are you from?" she asked. I was suddenly aware that Casey's conversation had stopped. The nine or so people were now listening to me.
"I was born in Kenya, actually," I said.
"No way, really?" Erica asked, though it wasn't really a question. "Kenya, huh? Wow."
"Yeah," I replied, wondering if she wanted more information. I had technically lived in nine different countries, twenty-nine of the fifty states, and counting. Since I was a baby, we hadn't stayed in the same place longer than six months. My father was military intelligence. We'd move somewhere, he'd do his magic, and we'd go somewhere else. Things had always been that way. I never minded.
Conversation resumed around me and I continued poking at my burger, waiting for the bell to ring for my final class. When it did, I grabbed my books and headed for the door. Erica tapped my shoulder. "What do you have next?"
"Uh," I mentally viewed my schedule, "world history."
"Me too," she smiled warmly again. I could feel Casey following lazily behind us as we entered the classroom. I took a seat next to Erica in the corner of the room. Casey sat behind me. He smirked when I turned to look at him, as if completely aware how unnerving his stare was.
"So Quantico, huh?" Casey asked. "Isn't the FBI headquarters there?"
"Yeah," I replied, offering nothing more.
"Casey's going work for them," Erica explained.
"Yeah," Casey stretched languidly, intertwining his hands behind his head. He was the vision of complete relaxation. "How's the real estate?"
I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't know. Wasn't there long enough to do any investigation. Sorry." I berated myself as soon as the words left my mouth. Why did I always do that? Hadn't I realized yet that even bothering to open up to anyone only led to pain?
Casey's eyes actually flashed something other than amusement for a second before returning to their normal state. "Where were you before that?"
"Frankfurt."
"Kentucky?" Erica asked.
I shook my head, "Germany."
"Your dad's in the military," Casey noted.
"Yeah," I replied, feeling like a broken record.
"My uncle does the same thing—I'm pretty sure he's lived in every state in the country."
"Wow," Erica looked shocked, "That must be hard."
I shrugged, "It's all I know."
"Switching schools all the time though? God. It must be so hard to make friends," Erica said sympathetically.
I just nodded, feeling somewhat irritated by her sympathies. She had no idea how hard it was—cutting myself off was always the easiest way to go, but she had to go and be all nice, making it impossible to back off without feeling like a bitch.
I was relieved when the teacher, a mousy, middle-aged woman, entered. She didn't acknowledge me at all, something I was thankful for, and went straight into her lecture. I wanted to escape before Casey or Erica could attempt another conversation.
When the final bell rang, I packed my things quickly and silently and bolted for the door. I felt his hand on my elbow, gentle but firm, and turned to face him slowly. "You're in a hurry," he drawled, his blue eyes glimmering. "I thought we had a game to play."
It took me a second to connect what he was even referring to. When I did, I laughed. "Give me a break, Casey. Twenty questions? You've figured out more about me than anyone in the last three schools I've been to." I winced, wondering yet again what on earth made me say that. His smirk widened and I yanked my elbow from his grasp. "Don't bother. I'll be gone before graduation."
I left him, but the gleam in his eyes made me feel like I was running away. I could feel his eyes on me even after I was sure I was out of sight.
It was late and I was tired, but I knew my father would want to hear about my day, so I waited up for him. Our apartment was tiny, cluttered with boxes that hadn't been opened in years. It had become easy to live off of a few things—the repacking and unpacking was always too much work. It gave a false sense of security anyway; no matter how much time it took to unpack, as soon as we were completely done, we'd have to box everything back up again. It was easier to not bother.
"So?" My dad, Greg Fuller, asked after returning from work, looking exhausted. He still smiled warmly at me—I knew he'd stay up forever talking to me if I asked him to.
"Hi, Daddy," I grinned, "Want me to heat you up the rest of the Chinese I bought for dinner?"
He shook his head, "I'll do it later. How was your first day?"
"Dad," I groaned, "it was fine. Same as every first day."
"Make any friends?"
"Dad," I groaned again, though this was routine. I knew he was concerned about me—I hadn't brought a single friend home in years. Truth was, I hadn't had any. It never seemed worth it, knowing I'd be leaving in just a few months. I never wanted to burden my father with that. We just had each other. I didn't need anyone else.
"Katie, I'm worried about you," he said sternly. "You're young. Make friends. Go out."
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine."
"You're always fine. I'd like something better this time around."
"Okay, Daddy," I planted a kiss on his cheek. "I'm gonna get to bed. I'll need all the extra sleep I can get for all this friend-making I've gotta do."
"Katie," he sighed, exasperated. My sarcasm never worked on him; it only left me more vulnerable in the end. The only time I deemed it necessary to use was when I was trying to cover something up. In the end, it made him just worry more.
"I love you, Katie."
"Love you too, Dad," I smiled at him, "See you in the morning."
When I woke up the following morning, my father was already gone. He wouldn't be back till late. I wondered if this job was especially bad—I'd hardly seen him at all since we moved to Wisconsin.
I went to school two hours early to run some laps around the track. I never was very good at sleeping past five or so and the exercise was refreshing. It was early March so it was still cold, but the snow was gone so the track was usable. The cold never bothered me—I spent a winter in Siberia when I was twelve. Nothing was ever quite as cold as that.
I knew the time I had in Wisconsin was limited. When I said to Casey that I would be gone before graduation, it wasn't a lie. The amount of time my father was putting in indicated that he wanted to get it finished as quickly as possible. I wanted to stay. Not because of the place exactly, but because I wanted to graduate from a school where I actually had a chance to get to know some of the people. I was starting to get lonely, which explained why I had been throwing out details that I normally spent time trying to cover up. I knew I couldn't keep it up—it was too painful to say goodbye, t
o promise to keep in touch, and know it wasn't possible.
It was getting late. I grabbed my water bottle and bag and jogged to the locker room. I took a quick shower before heading to my locker. There was still a half hour before first period started, but I didn't have anywhere to go, so I headed for my English classroom, intending to read The Sun Also Rises for the umpteenth time.
I entered the classroom without looking up, already engrossed in the story. I turned the page, settling into a desk without looking from the page.
"Whatcha doing?"
The book flew from my hands in surprise. I had been sure the classroom was empty, but I hadn't bothered to look around. He caught it expertly and paged through it, ignoring the hand I extended, obviously wanting it back.
"I was reading," I muttered, watching as he flipped through the pages.
"Are these your comments?"
"Yes," I yanked it from his grasp and flipped back to the page I was on. As much as I loved the book, I couldn't get back into it, knowing his stupid blue eyes were on me. I refused to let him know that he was bothering me.
"Good part?" he asked after a couple of minutes.
"Yes," I said.
"Must be. You haven't turned the page since you got it back."
I could feel the blush threatening to creep upon my cheeks. I set the book down, meeting his gaze. He was so infuriating. What right did he have to be such a cocky bastard?
"Alright, Casey," Mr. Oldman walked into the room, unaware of my presence. "You want me to—" his eyes landed on me, "Katie, what are you doing here?"
I held up my book, my eyes still on Casey. "Reading."
"Casey, will you leave the poor girl alone?" Mr. Oldman sighed. "I've got your letter of recommendation done. Should I send it myself or does it need to go with yours?" Casey didn't respond. His eyes were still piercing through mine, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Casey!" Mr. Oldman yelled, causing both of us to look at him. He handed him a sealed envelope. "Get out of my classroom," he pointed at the door, defeated. "Don't you have friends to bother?"
I let out a snicker, though I felt bad for Mr. Oldman. It was obvious he was at his wit's end. Casey seemed to be doing everything he could to push him over the edge.
"I'm trying to make the new girl feel welcome," Casey explained, his eyes on me again. I picked up my book, finding my place with ease.
"Thanks," I said shortly, "I feel welcome now." And I refused to pay him any more attention. He wouldn't stay with Mr. Oldman in the room, looking dangerously close to pelting him with dry erase markers.
With the obvious dilemma before him, he backed down. He stared at me for a second longer, daring me to look at him and when I didn't, he left.
I smiled to myself, turning the page leisurely.
Mr. Oldman let out a chuckle, "Looks like he's finally met his match."
Chapter Two
Casey was pissed.
There really was no other way to put it. Whether or not being shot down in front of Mr. Oldman was the real reason, he definitely took it out on the teacher during English, refusing to quiet down, making extremely rude comments, basically just acting like a five year old.
Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. It was evident that Casey Fitzgerald was allowed to get away with this kind of behavior.
He acted as if I didn't exist and I was grateful for it, but listening to his perverse comments made me itch to slap him. It was getting to the point that if I did, I was sure Mr. Oldman would have pretended not to notice.
We were still in the middle of the Hemingway lecture. Mr. Oldman was trying desperately to get the class involved, mostly just to drown out Casey, but no one was willing to get on his bad side. Finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, I answered one of his questions.
Casey, of course, refused to shut up.
In the middle of my answer, I whirled around to face him, the gleam in my hazel eyes so murderous that he stopped in his tracks. "That's better," I smiled victoriously, holding on to his gaze just a second longer.
This time he had nothing to say. This time everyone noticed.
"You probably want to avoid being on his shit list," Erica told me as we left English together. All Casey could manage to do for the rest of the class was sputter nonsense and really, that was funnier than anything else he said all period.
"I'm not afraid of him," I replied, stopping at my locker for my calculus book.
"You shouldn't be," Erica said, leaning against the locker next to mine, ignoring the scoff from the girl it belonged to. "It's not him, Katie, it's everyone else."
"I should be afraid of Casey's minions?" I rolled my eyes, "What are they going to do? Ruin my reputation? I don't care."
Erica smiled, "Casey's my cousin. Believe me, nothing made me happier to see you make him back down, but I don't want you to have a horrible time here."
"It doesn't matter. I won't be here long enough to care, and putting someone in his place doesn't equate a horrible time for me," I grinned at her and we walked down the hallway together until we got to my calculus class.
"See you at lunch?" she asked.
I nodded, "Yeah." When I entered the classroom, all conversation stopped. It had taken less than ten minutes for news of my confrontation with Casey to spread. I paused just slightly in the doorway before starting towards a seat in the front.
The dark haired girl in the seat next to it glared at me. "That seat's saved."
"Thanks," I smiled at her before lowering myself into the desk.
She narrowed her eyes at me, "Not for you."
"Oh," I replied, opening my notebook to my previous homework assignment.
"I don't know who you think you are," she spat at me, "but this isn't how things work here."
"It's okay, Gabrielle," his arrogant voice filled the air as he dropped in the seat behind me. She turned bright red as he smiled at her.
Gabrielle couldn't manage much more than a squeak in response. I wondered if she ever had so much as a single conversation with Casey before. I rolled my eyes and directed my attention at my teacher.
"You think it would be that easy to make a fool out of me?" Casey asked, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his breath. I froze. For the first time, he had caught me completely off guard. I expected him to taunt me or to ignore me, but never invade my space the way he had. "You're going to have to try a lot harder than that."
"Don't tempt me," I hissed, though refused to face him.
I knew he wanted to say something else, but the look on our calculus teacher's face silenced him. He blew softly on the back of my neck before backing away, causing goosebumps to flood my skin.
I was hyper aware of his movements through the entire class, finding it difficult to pay attention to the lecture. Time moved agonizingly slow and though I wanted to bolt from the room as soon as the bell rang, I refused to give him that satisfaction. I even met his gaze as he brushed past me to leave the classroom. He smirked, nodded at me, and disappeared into the crowd.
Erica and I went off campus for lunch with a couple of her friends. Erica claimed she was craving Mexican, but I knew she didn't want to subject me to anyone else's contempt. I had drastically underestimated Casey's influence at McCormack High. The two classes I had before lunch hadn't gone well. It was as if there was a line between me and Casey and everyone had to pick sides. I didn't understand. I hadn't done anything but put Casey in his place, but apparently it was enough for everyone to hate me.
Erica's friends seemed initially hesitant to be seen with me. I was half-tempted to let them go out of sympathy, but they were capable of making their own decisions.
"Has it been bad?" Erica asked as we filled up our drinks.
I shrugged. "Bad? No."
She smiled, "Do you always downplay things like this?"
"I'm not," I protested, though I smiled. "It doesn't matter. It just bothers him more that I don't care."
She laughed, "You've got him figured out already." We joine
d her friends at the booth in the corner of the restaurant.
Stephanie, a tall, athletic blonde, smiled warmly as we approached. I slid into the booth after Erica and smiled at Kari, the brunette across from her. They had been nice, but I wondered if Erica had asked them to be. Everyone else had avoided me like the plague. My plan was working and Casey was entirely responsible for it. He was keeping everyone away from me and if I could distance myself from Erica and her friends, I'd be fine when it came to the next move, which I knew wasn't far off.
I hadn't realized that I hadn't been listening to the conversation around me until Casey's name was mentioned. The three of them were looking at me expectantly and I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I completely zoned."