Why I Loathe Sterling Lane

by Ingrid Paulson

  There was no logical reason for Kendall to be in my room with a suitcase. She had a room already, and any girl in our grade would give both kidneys for the chance to live with her. Because wherever Kendall was, boys swarmed.

  So I wasn’t all that surprised to hear a deep voice from the hallway, followed by a boy whose face was concealed by the three quilted pink duffel bags stacked in his arms.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Kendall hissed, stepping inside and eyeing me like I was a hunk of rotting meat. She was talking to the boy behind her, not me, so I looked away, pretending she’d actually been as discreet as she should have been.

  Then the boy took another step forward. Parker. I’d been stuck with him as a lab partner last year and ended up tutoring him against my better judgment. It had just sort of happened. Nothing official. He’d been sweet, in a wide-eyed, earnest kind of way. He won me over when I realized his mediocre grades weren’t from lack of effort, but rather lack of ability. And really, there’s not much you can do about that.

  My opinion of him fell into a downward spiral, though, and could have burrowed its way fifty feet into the ground when I saw him scampering behind Kendall like a bellhop.

  “Hey, Harper,” Parker said cheerfully before turning to Kendall. “Living here, your GPA will go up a tenth of a point just through osmosis. Mine did.”

  “Excellent use of vocab,” I said, trying to diffuse this ticking time bomb of an awkward situation. Parker grinned—a wide, boyish grin that made Kendall roll her eyes.

  “I guess I’ll survive for a couple of days,” Kendall said, throwing her purse onto the floor in the middle of the room—an area that should be kept free of clutter, per Rules 74 and 84, which dealt with cleanliness and tripping hazards, respectively. “Our room flooded,” Kendall said, finally deigning to explain why she was invading my room. “A ruptured pipe. And they didn’t even ask me where I wanted to live while they fixed it.” She wrinkled her tiny nose, making her look like a Boston terrier. “Personally, I think they should have moved us to a hotel if this was all they had.”

  “Yes,” I said. “That would have been preferable.”

  “Why don’t you have a roommate already?” Kendall asked, her huge green eyes finally settling on me. Her gaze had so carefully avoided mine until that moment that I was beginning to wonder if I had, in fact, disappeared from my own room.

  I cringed when she flicked her fingers impatiently and pointed, wordlessly telling Parker where to set her bags. I sat on the edge of my bed, careful not to let my outdoor clothes come in contact with my sheets. I was morbidly curious to see if he’d unpack for her, too, or if his services were limited to manual labor. It wasn’t just seldom that I was included in this sort of dormitory drama—it was never.

  But Parker set the bags down with surprising haste, given that he was in the inner sanctum of Kendall’s boudoir. Then he was halfway across the room a second later.

  “Where are you going?” Kendall pouted. “You can’t just abandon me here.” She said it like she’d be marooned in the middle of the desert.

  “I told you already,” Parker said, leaning in quick to give her a kiss and confirming he was Kendall’s latest acquisition. “I have a lacrosse meeting.”

  “What do you mean—a meeting?” I asked, glancing at my watch. “Isn’t practice over already?”

  “This new guy asked us to hold one,” he said. “They used to do it at his old school. He’s got some ideas. Strategy stuff.”

  “Of course,” I said, from between gritted teeth. “Sterling Lane.”

  “Yeah.” Parker paused at the door and looked back at me. “Cole introduced you?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” I replied.

  “I know, I know.” Parker smiled. “I was a little skeptical, too. Heard he was nuts. Got his team disqualified from a tournament. Launched firecrackers at a referee. Someone else said it was just smoke bombs.” He shook his head. “But when you meet him—I mean, really talk to him—he’s a good guy.”

  “No, he’s not,” I said. I couldn’t sit by and listen to Sterling Lane being defended one more time that day. “He lies and drinks and cheats.”

  “Well, I don’t know about all that.” Parker laughed nervously, running one hand through his hair. “But that’s nothing compared to what everyone was saying before we met him. His parents must have some pretty deep pockets if he only got expelled instead of arrested.”

  That was a leading statement if I’d ever heard one. He was dying to tell the story but didn’t want to be an outright gossip.

  Kendall’s eyes snapped up at that. “Why?” she asked. Then she looked at me. “He’s Cole’s roommate, right? Have you met him? Is he cute?” The sweet siren of money had hypnotized Kendall into revealing way too much about the inner workings of her self-centered mind, and I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  “What do you mean is he cute?” Parker asked.

  “Just curious.” Kendall’s eyes cut to him for a fraction of an instant, gauging his reaction. Either she was completely heartless or just trying to make him jealous. Although little as I knew about dating, it seemed to me there wasn’t much difference between the two.

  Before Kendall delivered the punch line to their joke of a relationship, I asked, “Why?”

  But Parker was too distracted to answer. “Exactly,” he said. “Why would that matter?”

  Did Parker honestly think Kendall thought he was special—that he’d last more than a week with her when no one else could?

  “No,” I said, “I meant why was he expelled—what did he do?”

  “Oh.” Parker’s focus shifted back to me. Kendall slid forward to perch on the edge of her bed like a puppy anxiously awaiting a treat. She was clearly enamored of either gossip or obnoxious playboys, and most likely both.

  “Arson,” he said.

  “Arson?” I couldn’t picture Sterling doing something as uncivilized or proactive as lighting a fire and running to hide. “From what I’ve seen, that doesn’t seem like Sterling’s style. He’s so—lazy and spoiled.”

  “Well, at least he gets things done on the field—when he wants to.” There was an edge to Parker’s tone. And for the first time I started to hope that I wasn’t the only one who saw through Sterling’s facade. But the shadow almost immediately passed. Like Cole, Parker thought the best of everyone. “Cole made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. He said Sterling deserves a fresh start.”

  The words pelted me. Here was yet another secret Cole wasn’t sharing with me. Was that a sign of a new rift between us, thanks to Sterling, or had the distance between us been growing all along?

  Parker frowned, clearly deliberating over how much to share. Curiosity threatened to completely consume my internal organs.

  “What did he light on fire?” I demanded. “The school? His dorm?”

  Parker took a deep breath. “Apparently Sterling had a fight with one of his friends. And it had something to do with Sterling’s sister—the guy did something bad. You can draw your own conclusions since that guy was expelled, too.”

  I felt a little twinge of guilt. Sterling had said that most students had given him a standing ovation for putting an asshole in his place and I’d insinuated that they should have thrown the book at him. I should have had all the facts before I’d spoken. Perhaps Sterling had been correct on that front, if on nothing else. Sometimes you had to go to great lengths to protect family. But the idea of him angry was equally intriguing. One of the things that bothered me most about Sterling was his impassiveness, even when insulted directly to his face. Like nothing and no one could unsettle that knowing smile.

  I nodded, urging Parker to continue.

  “Anyway, Sterling wanted revenge,” Parker continued. “So he lit the kid’s room on fire when he was sleeping.”

  “He what?” Kendall gasped. I wasn’t sure if she was impressed or horrified. Knowing the cruel streak she displayed from time to time, it could have gone either direction. Kendall was ther
e the day my nickname Harper the Hag was coined. I’ll never forget the way she giggled hysterically as her senior boyfriend eviscerated me in the cafeteria. All because I’d insisted a group project meant he had to contribute, too.

  Parker absently stroked Kendall’s shoulder. “Not the whole room. He wrapped it up in string, like a spiderweb. Then he set the string on fire. And it lit up like a Christmas tree. The kid woke up to a room full of flames. But it was just string, so it probably couldn’t have spread.” But Parker didn’t sound so convinced. And I liked him better for it.

  “That’s psychotic,” I said. “And dangerous.”

  Parker shrugged. “Like I said, not likely it would catch. Guess he flooded the floor with water at the same time. Just in case.”

  “That was thoughtful of him,” I said drily.

  “People say he wove the word ‘Judas’ into the string. But I dunno if I believe that. I mean, sounds pretty complicated.”

  Actually, that part of the plan matched exactly with the Sterling I’d met. A smug flourish to drive his point home. Or perhaps a self-aggrandizing fictional detail he added to the rumors after the fact. The whole thing sounded more like urban legend than a factual account. “He has quite an opinion of himself,” I said.

  “Who?” Kendall asked.

  “Sterling. Judas is a religious reference,” I explained. “Judas betrayed Christ.” I wished I hadn’t sounded so harsh. For once, I was in a conversation with my peers and it wasn’t half bad. This was a step closer to a tentative sort of social inclusion. I turned back to Parker. “And then he got expelled?”

  “That’s everything I know.” Parker shrugged and glanced at his watch. “Except that he’s one hell of a left attack. Cole would know the rest. They’re always hanging out.”

  My stomach sank. I’d had no idea the situation was so dire.

  “Hmmm,” Kendall said. I looked up and she was eyeing me curiously from her perch on the opposite bed.

  “I’ve gotta go.” Parker gave Kendall’s shoulder one more casual squeeze and left, closing the door softly behind him.

  As soon as he was gone, Kendall stretched out on her bed, planting her platform sandals right on her flowered pillowcase. I cringed at the violation of basic hygiene, and at the name she sighed as she committed it. “Sterling.” She had clearly forgotten whom she was talking to, because her tone was almost conspiratorial. “It’s a perfect name. Regal—royal, that’s what that means, right?” She paused and rolled up onto her elbow, looking at me. “Is he cute? You never answered.”

  I thought about it for a second. “A little. But not my type.” That was the understatement of the year. On both counts.

  “I think you’re lying.” She fluffed the ends of her hair so they draped artfully behind her shoulders. “He must be your type. You perked right up when Parker told that story.”

  I nearly choked on my own tongue. “Never.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Look, I know we’ve never been friends. And you probably think I’m just some bubblehead.” It was shocking beyond words, the note of self-doubt that slipped into Kendall’s voice. Curiosity flashed in her eyes, as if she did actually wonder what I thought of her.

  I opened my mouth, contemplating informing her that she did an admirable job of camouflaging her intelligence.

  “But I’d like to get along since we have to cohabitate.” She chewed her lower lip as her eyes cut to the expanse of floor between us. “I’ve always felt bad about that time we egged your room. It wasn’t my idea. You know how it is when you’re young. Older kids can get you to go along with anything. I tried to apologize that time in the cafeteria. But you know, it always seems like you’re too busy to talk to anyone.”

  My tiny twinge of curiosity about Kendall—at what lurked underneath all that lip gloss and haute couture—exploded into nothingness. I’d never known who’d committed that particular act of vandalism, and I wasn’t prepared to forgive it. I’d wasted precious hours of study time scrubbing the dried yolk off my door, trying not to let anyone who passed see my red and puffy eyes. Years of being harangued and ostracized couldn’t be erased through a halfhearted apology.

  “I’d forgotten all about that,” I said. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because if we’re going to be living together, we can’t be chasing after the same guy.”

  I blinked. Once. Twice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sterling,” she said, clearly exasperated. “You said he’s a little cute, which I’m guessing for you is like saving his photo as your computer wallpaper to ogle daily.”

  I actually gagged at the mere idea of it. “No. No. No.” I could have repeated that word into infinity.

  Her eyes narrowed, like she didn’t quite believe me. But then she smiled. “Perfect. Then I’ll have to see if he lives up to the hype.”

  “I think you’re perfect for each other,” I blurted, for some reason needing to put even more distance between me and her suggestion that I found that vile sybarite attractive.

  “That’s really sweet of you, Harper.” Kendall tipped her head to the side and smiled at me. I observed her cautiously, waiting for the smile to transform into something sinister, or for the sarcastic verbal jab that would follow. But as seconds ticked past, I started to wonder if she’d been sincere.

  Then she reached over into the nearest pink duffel bag and unleashed a hurricane of clothing.

  “What about Parker?” I asked, feeling sorry for him and the puppy-dog way he chased after her.

  “What about him? We’re just friends.” She glanced over at me. “Oh, stop looking so scandalized. It was his idea. He’s the one who said he needs to focus on his lacrosse career instead of a girlfriend. As if anyone’s ever heard of a professional lacrosse player. He wants to play around? Fine. So can I.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that professional lacrosse was very much a reality, and one of Cole’s dreams. Which made it all the more urgent that we preserve his integrity as captain by concealing his mistake.

  “And Parker had the gall to pretend he was jealous,” Kendall continued. “You know—when I asked if Sterling was cute. If he really cared about me, he’d commit, not just act all jealous when I talk about other guys. Am I asking too much just to have him acknowledge our relationship outside of his bedroom?”

  It was like she’d just switched into Greek. Except if it had been Greek, I would have comprehended more of it.

  “Am I?” she demanded. “Is that asking too much?”

  “Of course not,” I murmured, pretending I had any insight into the inner workings of the male mind.

  Kendall applied a generous layer of cherry-red lipstick that made her look like one of those glamorous pinup girls from the twenties. I watched, reluctantly fascinated by how easy it was for her to go from pretty to beautiful.

  I glanced down at my nails, chewed to the quick. At the rumpled pleated skirt that made up my daily uniform. There was a splatter of coffee on my blouse I’d never noticed before. I’d never cared about my appearance, living in a male-dominated house. No one taught me about makeup or nail polish or fashion. Yet I could tell from photos that these were all things my mother knew in spades. I’d missed out on so much. Irony of ironies that Kendall Frank’s makeup bag made my heart start aching over it for the first time in years.

  Kendall used a painful-looking metal clamp to make her eyelashes double in length. The entire production was fascinating in its intricacy and economy. What would it be like to smile and bring a roomful of people to their knees? I’d seen Kendall do that more than once.

  “Sterling Lane, get ready, ’cause here I come,” Kendall singsonged, sliding into a pair of heels that could double as circus stilts. “Here’s to hoping he’s not a horrible commitment-phobe like Parker.”

  What had started as a little inside joke with myself at Kendall’s expense suddenly seemed like a decent option: encourage Kendall to chase after Sterling. Not only was it a match ma
de in hell, Kendall was unrealistically high maintenance. She would keep Sterling away from Cole while I found a way to revise their room assignments. It was a long shot, but even if it ultimately didn’t work, Kendall would keep Sterling occupied for a day or two, which was all the time I needed to get the money from Dad, cash out my savings bonds, and fix things between me and Cole.

  “The important thing is finding the right outfit,” Kendall said, prattling on about first impressions and quoting Coco Chanel. And I was nodding along, reluctantly sucked into her alternate dimension.

  Tank tops that a newborn could barely squeeze into flew through the air, landing haphazardly on my desk, followed by shiny sequined fabrics that could have been either dresses or distress signals. I watched as one by one the pieces of clothing tumbled onto the floor, floated over a lampshade, or worst of all, landed on the counter, actually brushing against my plastic basket of toiletries, including my toothbrush. Horror and fascination vied for control. This was a new experience for me, sharing a room with someone so utterly uninhibited that she’d hurl bras and underwear across the room, not caring that they were in full view of me and anyone else who might wander in.

  “You know, this would look really good on you,” Kendall said, flinging a tiny scrap of green fabric at me. “Your short dark hair and huge green eyes—this would make them pop.”

  “Thank you?” I asked, folding the item and setting it on my desk. Upon closer examination, I determined it was some sort of one-sleeved shirt.

  “Wish me luck,” she said, slipping off the bed and smoothing her hair with an electric device.

  “Good luck,” I said. And I meant it.

  After all, I hated Sterling and I was less than crazy about Kendall. As far as I was concerned, that was more than enough for the two of them to have in common. Sterling was a liability Cole couldn’t afford, and while I was figuring out a way to take Sterling out of commission, I’d let Kendall at least start the process for me.