Why I Loathe Sterling Lane

by Ingrid Paulson

  Finally, the last teacher waddled across the parking lot to their car. The only vehicles remaining were those owned by the handful of students with permission to keep them on campus.

  “I’ll park the Mini in the back of the lot,” Cole said. “You guys go to my room, so you won’t be implicated if I’m caught.”

  “Why would you think we’d do that?” I asked. “I’m not saddling you with my problems.”

  “I’m already in deep shit,” he said. “There’s not much that’ll get me off the hook anyway. It makes the most sense for me to take the risk.”

  “No,” I pressed. “This is my problem. Let me handle it.”

  “Nothing’s just your problem,” Cole said. “I know I’ve been a bad brother lately. I’ve said some pretty harsh things. Just let me do this.”

  “You haven’t been a bad brother.” His words sent my heart soaring through the stratosphere. I’d been lonely; I’d missed him. And I couldn’t believe he was finally back. “And I will get you off the hook if it’s the last thing I do. I won’t let you get expelled.”

  “Fine.” He smiled triumphantly. “I didn’t want to play this card, but the fact of the matter is you can’t drive stick. We’re way more likely to get caught if you lurch your way into the parking lot, stalling every five feet, or if you come with me and we’re piling out of this piece of junk like it’s a clown car.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Cole had won. Rule 1 grumbled a little—it was my job to protect Cole, not the other way around.

  “Just give us five minutes to get into position,” Parker said. “Harper and I can watch from my room and text Kendall to run interference in case anyone comes across the quad. If we call you, it means abort the mission.”

  Cole nodded.

  It took Parker and me less than five minutes to reach his room. I had to practically jog to keep up with his long-legged pace.

  And once inside his room, I sincerely wished I was anyplace but. It was an absolute mess.

  “You collect these?” I asked, picking up one of the protein bar wrappers littering the surface of his desk. A pile of laundry was rapidly decomposing next to his open closet door.

  I picked my way across the room and watched from the window as Cole drove the car slowly along the road skirting the school. Every time he disappeared behind a tree or shrub, my pulse ratcheted into overdrive. But the plan went off without a hitch. No one saw the tiny car zoom into the parking lot, buzzing happily like a fly, and the coast was clear as it slipped into a narrow spot where it would be hidden from view by a massive pickup truck.

  Cole climbed out and strolled back toward us like he didn’t have a care in the world. When he reached the edge of the quad, Kendall fell into place beside him. They actually stopped to talk to some guys who’d emerged from the library. It wasn’t an altogether horrible idea for him to get an alibi. As we waited, trying to look nonchalant, Parker turned to me.

  “You know, you’re full of surprises,” he said.

  “I am the most predictable person in the world, actually,” I said. “And I like it that way.”

  “Doesn’t seem like that to me.” He looked down at his shoes. “What did you do to get on Sterling’s hit list? It must have been amazing.”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Nothing worth repeating, at least.”

  Parker wasn’t perceptive enough to pick up on the shame in my tone; he kept right on going. “I mean, you realize you just dismantled a Mini Cooper?”

  “Actually, I just took the wheels off,” I said. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I turned away, ready to rendezvous with Cole and Kendall.

  Parker placed his hand on my back—my lower back. “I think it was pretty awesome—what you did.”

  It was such a new situation, standing there alone in a room with a boy, that I didn’t know what to do. His palm practically spanned the width of me.

  I had to be misreading the situation—this was a language I’d never learned to interpret. Plus, Parker was with Kendall. There was no way a boy would expect me to follow that act. Someone with his academic limitations and social calendar could never think of me…that way. So I tried to dismiss it as nothing when the hand on my back turned into an arm wrapped around me, turning me toward him.

  Despite of the seventy-eight million reasons it didn’t make sense he was touching me, a part of me was curious, wondering where this was headed.

  But that curiosity vaporized when he leaned in and tried to kiss me.

  With his lips.

  I put one hand on his chest to keep him at bay. But I’d never touched a boy before, at least not like this, so I paused for a moment to take it all in: the way he felt solid and warm, the beating of his heart underneath my palm, and the illogical little thrill the human contact gave me even though it was far from welcome.

  Clearly he misread my hesitation, because instead of backing off, he pressed his lips against mine. I went rigid with shock. He pulled back for a moment, his lips parted with anticipation of more—which made me laugh out loud. His eyes flew open.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, putting my hand over my mouth to muffle the laughter. “But you looked like a fish.”

  Fortunately, Parker backed away, halfway across the room. His entire face was red with mortification. That was the only thing that stopped me from raining fire and brimstone that he’d just grab me like that.

  “God, I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing one hand over his face. “I totally misread that, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah. You did.” His cheeks were red. He was visibly mortified. So I tried a different tactic, one that allowed him to save face. “What about Kendall?”

  “What about her?” he said. “She’s totally cheating on me with Sterling. Wait—not cheating. We’re not even together.” Parker sounded every bit as sulky about that fact as Kendall did. I was no relationship expert, but it seemed to me those two needed to sit down and come clean with each other.

  “No, she’s not.” I was surprised by how adamant I sounded. Kendall wanted to be with Parker, and for some perverse reason, I was invested in that outcome.

  “They had dinner together once,” I said, taking a step back and sitting in Parker’s desk chair. “She’s not interested in him; she was just doing it to make you jealous. You and Kendall really need to sit down and talk. Be honest with each other. Nothing happened between them, and it won’t. Sterling has these rules. He doesn’t go on second dates. You have to get what you want from him on the first date, which in Kendall’s case was nothing.”

  Parker’s eyes widened. “Does that actually work—Sterling’s rules?”

  “I have no idea. Sterling Lane isn’t exactly sharing his deepest secrets with me. Besides, even if it did, would you really want to play those games?” I didn’t add that he wouldn’t be able to pull it off. There was something about Sterling Lane’s confidence and persistence that was alluring to some girls. Or so I imagined. It seemed like Sterling was able to accomplish just about anything he set his sights on.

  “Right. ’Course I wouldn’t.” Parker wasn’t very convincing.

  Thankfully, his phone interrupted our now extremely awkward conversation. “It’s Kendall,” he said, glancing at the caller ID. “Who didn’t get what she wanted from Sterling and now thinks she can snap her fingers and get me back. Not exactly a thrilling offer.”

  “It’s not like that,” I said. “She really cares about you—and I know you care about her, too.” When Parker scowled, my newfound Kendall protectiveness flared. “If you and Kendall get back together, you better do whatever it takes to deserve her. You’re no saint, Parker, trying to kiss me just now.” I rose and poked him in the sternum with my index finger, hard.

  There was a knock on the door just as the words left my lips. And pretty much simultaneously, the door flew open.

  Sterling leaned his shoulder against the frame, one ankle kicked over the other like he’d been lingering there for hours. “Sounds like I missed the best part.” His wo
rds slurred around the edges, reminding me of what Cole had said: Sterling had spent the afternoon draining his supply of scotch.

  His bare feet had striped tan lines from flip-flops. I seriously wondered if he got pedicures or if the Lane family DNA defied calluses.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, scalding me with that smile. “Came to see if anyone has need of my services.” His eyes flickered from my oil-stained hands to the smudge of tire dirt spanning my forehead. I saw the streak in the mirror on the far wall just as his eyes found it.

  “Nope,” I said, displaying my very best impersonation of his smug little smile. “I think this room is all filled up on assholes at the moment.”

  Sterling’s eyes flashed to Parker, and I caught a sliver of a smile—a twitch of his lips. “Glad to hear it.” He straightened, shifting his weight like he was about to walk away. “And thanks for the history outlines. You got them back, right?”

  “What history outlines?”

  “The ones I borrowed from your room,” he said. “Drove them back myself in a charming little car. I borrowed that, too. Now, let’s see.” He tapped a finger against the edge of his jaw like he was thinking really hard. “I could have sworn I left them in the glove compartment, right where you were sure to find them.”

  Never underestimate your enemy—especially when he’s Sterling Lane. Fortunately, the car hadn’t been found yet. I still had time to save myself, and to dodge the second blow in this two-punch combo.

  “Now, if you were truly ruthless,” I said, “you wouldn’t have told me that. Rest assured, Sterling, that when I exact my revenge, there will be no such courtesy.”

  “I look forward to it,” Sterling replied.

  “Out of my way.” I lost my balance when I crashed right into him, and I hated him even more for the way he caught my elbow, righting me.

  “Better bring a bobby pin, sweetheart,” Sterling called after me. “It’s locked.”

  “War. This means war. Sterling and his stupid alligator teeth,” I muttered as I tore down the stairs past Cole and Kendall, who stared after me, bewildered. I didn’t have time to stop and explain. There was no telling how long it would be until someone discovered the headmaster’s missing car—and my notes stashed in the glove compartment, incriminating me.

  By the time I reached the parking lot, I was panting like a dog. Cole had no idea how prescient he’d been to leave the car half-concealed behind the pickup truck. And he’d left it unlocked. The keys were on the passenger seat, so I tried each one on the glove compartment lock, but none of them were small enough. There was clearly another separate tiny key I needed to find.

  I scrambled around frantically, searching the pockets and nooks and crannies, but I came up empty-handed. There was no choice: I pulled the screwdriver we’d used to reassemble the Mini out of my pocket and wedged it into the crack. It took four tries and two deep gouges in the soft leather console. Headmaster Lowell would have an absolute fit when he saw the damage.

  I snatched up my notes and was about to make a break for it when something moved in the cab of the pickup truck. It was a sophomore boy, one who I knew just well enough to recognize that the girl with him was not his girlfriend. And they were both staring at me.

  What was it with boys and cheating today?

  I rapped firmly on the window, right in his face. He jumped back as if my knuckle would smash right through the glass. “Don’t just sit there staring like a goldfish. Go tell Headmaster Lowell that his car is here. Hurry. This is a stolen vehicle. There may still be evidence inside.”

  He opened the door slowly, the way you would if there was a wild animal prowling outside.

  “I don’t have time,” I added. “Grades like mine don’t grow on trees.”

  Then I turned and walked calmly away, reflecting on the day’s manifold victories.

  At this rate, I’d soon be leaping buildings in a single bound. I’d never known what I was capable of outside of academics because I’d never had the chance to try. But here I was—winning on every front. My history notes were safely back in my hands, I’d removed a stolen Mini Cooper from my room, and Kendall would soon be back in the arms of the boy she loved, fickle though that title might be. Plus, Cole and I were back to normal.

  It was enough to tempt anyone to simply rest on their laurels. But I still had to get Cole out of his mess, and while I did, exonerate Sterling. His predicament was entirely attributable to actions I now regretted—they were born of utter desperation to protect Cole. But that didn’t mean I’d let Sterling off the hook for what he’d just done.

  Whether I’d brought the Mini Cooper incident on myself didn’t matter. I had to show Sterling that I could hold my own—even when playing by his rules. This time I wouldn’t resort to tattling or involve the administration. My revenge would be swift and sudden. Sterling wasn’t the only alligator in this jungle and certainly not the most cunning.

  Reason 18:

  He framed me.

  So what if I did it first?

  My actions stemmed from a

  higher moral authority: me.

  Headmaster Lowell pulled me out of history class the next morning.

  Me.

  I’d never been removed from class before, other than when my grandmother died in eighth grade and our father pulled us out of school to tell us. It felt like every single one of my nerve endings was exposed as I followed the headmaster into his office.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked.

  My hands started to shake. I had no idea how to answer. If I assumed it was about Cole and the money, he might think I knew something that could implicate Cole. But if I said anything about his car, he’d question my involvement, which was the last thing in the world I needed.

  “No,” I choked out.

  “I wanted to thank you for finding my car.”

  “Oh, that,” I said, my loud exhale broadcasting my relief.

  “Yes,” he said. “Very serendipitous that you stumbled across it. May I ask how it happened?”

  “It was no big deal.” I searched for a plausible story. “I was walking home and saw it sitting there. And well, I’d heard about what happened, so I moved in closer to make sure it was yours.”

  “That was good thinking,” he said. “That’s why Mr. Evans told me you were looking in my glove compartment when he saw you?”

  “Right,” I said slowly.

  “Makes sense,” he said, nodding sagely. “But it doesn’t explain how your wallet got in the trunk.”

  Panic blindsided me, tumbling me in its clutches. It was a primal sort of fear, the heart-exploding, wide-eyed terror of a wild hare with hounds snapping at its haunches.

  I thought about turning and running, partaking in the wild hare’s solution. Out the door and into the woods behind campus, where I could live on berries, acorns, and the nontoxic plants we’d identified in freshman biology.

  I took a deep breath, steeling myself. I’d underestimated the extent of Sterling’s carefully executed plan, but that ended now. He probably expected me to tattle, but I’d never make that mistake again. Instead, I’d do whatever it took to slide out of this situation, and I’d live on to fight another day.

  “Of course it does.” I drew my words out, scrambling through my brain in search of an excuse, any excuse. “I wanted to make sure it really was your car. I know how rare that model is, but still, it seemed so lucky that your car would just be sitting there after you’d lost it. So I searched for any identifying factors. I had to set down my wallet and sunglasses. I realized I was being silly—the registration was in the glove compartment. But at about that time, I remembered that your car was technically a crime scene, and I sort of panicked that I was tampering with evidence.” I paused and looked him square in the eye. I’d read once that was the key to effective lying. “That’s a felony, you know.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Headmaster Lowell said, pressing his hands together in front of him, then separating t
hem until just the fingertips touched. He was being painfully slow and deliberate as he searched for his next words—pretending he was capable of deep thought when he was really just savoring his misplaced headmaster authority before declaring his unilateral victory.

  “It all seems very convenient, Harper,” he said. “While I’m grateful that you found my car, I can’t help wondering if this incident has anything to do with Sterling Lane.”

  It was so deliciously unexpected that I couldn’t speak. Finally, someone had seen through Sterling’s shiny exterior into the rotten core concealed underneath. Still, I’d never admit it—would never turn Sterling in to the headmaster. I would be the one to teach Sterling Lane his lesson.

  But that pause gave Headmaster Lowell the opportunity he needed to finish his thought. “And I want you to understand that while we took a chance on Sterling despite his history of acting out, we have a zero tolerance policy at Sablebrook Academy.” His eyes stabbed me right in the heart. “I also understand you might feel, well…adrift given Sterling’s sudden academic success, and that it might be a bit threatening to you, particularly in Mrs. Stevens’s class. But a truly great mind will embrace the success of others. It’s a stepping-stone for bettering all of society. There’s room at the top for other students.”

  “But—” I watched the rescue boat drift past.

  “I believe this was an isolated incident, Harper.” He slid his glasses back in place and lifted a stack of papers awaiting his perusal. “So I’ve decided not to pursue this any further. Don’t make me regret it. You may return to class.”

  Just like that, I was dismissed. I sat there for a minute, head spinning from the twists and turns of Sterling’s latest move. I had to reluctantly applaud his chess move, his carefully plotted and perfectly executed little prank. I’d warned Sterling that I’d fight fire with fire, and now I was poised on the precipice, prepared to jump in after him.