“I need a ride to Scouts,” yelled Tommy as soon as he spied me going up the stairs.
“Ask someone else!” I snarled at him.
“But Mom and Dad aren’t here,” he said. “You’re supposed to take me.”
I turned around and glared at him. “I cannot take you to Scouts or anywhere else tonight. So just forget it!” Then I went into my room and slammed the door so hard that my mirror actually fell off. I couldn’t believe it didn’t break since it would only make sense that this day would have been followed by seven long years of bad luck.
Right now my plan is never to emerge from my room again, because if I do, I am quite certain that I will kill someone—Shawna Frye, to be exact. I have no doubt that she not only stole my boyfriend but also my jeans and my car keys. And I seriously wish she were dead.
nine
THANK GOODNESS IT’S FRIDAY, I TOLD MYSELF AS I DROVE TO SCHOOL today. If I could just make it through this day, I would have two blissful days to recover from my increasingly messy life—which is rather ironic, since I totally abhor messes of any kind, particularly when they’re related to me.
Of course, the only reason I had a car to drive today was because my dad drove me back over to the school to get mine last night. That was after my little brother called my parents and told them that I was going totally crazy and that they’d better get home before he called up the mental hospital and asked them to take me away.
I’m sure he thought he had good reason to do this since I was basically flipping out in my room, screaming and throwing things and carrying on like a wild woman—and creating more messes, as it turned out. Pretty much out of character. Actually, it wasn’t quite as bad as it sounded, although I did break a lamp. But it was an old lamp, and I didn’t really care for it anyway.
“It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore,” I had complained as my dad drove me toward school. “My whole life is just totally falling to pieces, and it’s like I can’t do anything to stop it. It’s like it’s all just totally out of control.”
I’d already told him pretty much the whole ugly story while we pigged out on ice cream at O’Grady’s. Okay, I may have left out a few critical things, but a girl’s got to have some privacy.
“Sometimes you just need to get perspective,” he told me as he pulled into the high-school parking lot.
“What do you mean?”
“I know it’s hard for you to understand since you’re right in the thick of this now, but believe me, this will all pass. What seems huge and impossible to you today will be just a memory before long. You might even laugh about it someday.”
I turned around in the seat and stared at him like he had a hairy purple wart growing on the tip of his nose. “Laugh about it?”
“You might, someday.”
“Yeah, sure.” I reached for the door handle now.
“I know this is hard on you, Jordan, but sometimes these hard things have ways of making us stronger, better people.”
I rolled my eyes at him, thinking he was starting to sound just like Kara Hendricks. “Well, I don’t want to be a stronger or better person, Dad. I just want my old life back.”
He smiled. “I know, honey. Maybe you should just do like the Good Book says and try to take it one day at a time.”
Well, that sounded manageable, so that’s exactly what I decided to do. Just get through this day, I told myself as I walked to my first class.
“I hear you’re on probation,” said Ashley when she spotted me heading toward the English department.
I frowned. “How’d the word get out so fast?”
“Ms. Brookes posted a memo for the cheerleaders.”
“Great.” I sighed. “Shawna is probably elated.”
“What happened?”
I told Ashley the sweetened, condensed version, carefully emphasizing my suspicions that Shawna had stolen both my keys and jeans. And Ashley was appropriately indignant. “That is so unfair,” she said as I reached my class.
“Tell me about it.” I just shrugged, playing up my role as innocent victim, figuring I’d better milk this for all it’s worth since the cheerleaders could get seriously mad at me for getting suspended and messing things up for Flair Fair.
“Well, I’m going to tell the others,” she said.
I wanted to hug her and say, “Thank you, thank you!” but instead I continued to play the hopeless fatalist. “It won’t change anything.”
“Well, it’s just not fair.”
Throughout the day, I got a mixture of sympathy and irritation from the girls. Some—influenced by Shawna, I’m sure—believed my stupidity in the parking lot was going to cost them first place at Flair Fair. Others felt, like Ashley, that the whole scenario was totally unfair. Amber fell somewhere in the middle.
“We all know that everyone breaks the rules sometimes,” she told me at lunch. “The thing is, you have to be smart about it, Jordan. You don’t break the rules on the school grounds, and you never break the rules when Ms. Brookes or any faculty member is in the vicinity.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered.
Then, of course, Shawna had to show up. “Way to go, Ferguson,” she said. It was weird though. She was trying to act all indignant and mad, but it was plain to see, at least to me, that she was totally elated.
“Just chill,” said Ashley. “Jordan feels bad enough.”
I looked evenly at Shawna now, determined to keep my victim mask on. “Anytime you’d like to return my car keys and jeans, I’d appreciate it.”
“What are you saying?” she asked in a wounded tone. “Are you actually accusing me?”
“If the shoe fits.”
She looked around at the other girls, who were all looking at her now. “Well, I can’t believe that you really think that I—”
“Give it a rest, Shawna,” said Ashley in a bored voice. “We all know you did it.”
Shawna’s eyes grew wide, almost teary too. What a drama queen!
“Well!” Then she picked up her tray and walked away from the table. And for a moment I thought I had actually won—until I saw her going over to meet Timothy, who had just entered the cafeteria with some of his jock friends. I could only guess what she was saying to him. She was probably telling him that I had personally assaulted her, maybe even threatened her life. After all, Timothy is actually a rather sweet and protective sort of guy when it comes to his girl, or girls—kind of the knight on the white horse. And, naturally, I knew he would feel sorry for her and want to comfort her and help her feel better.
And that is when I got my most brilliant idea yet.
Now if only I can figure out how to execute it without revealing my hand or breaking the law. I don’t really want to get pressed with any criminal charges. Especially since I’m already in plenty of trouble as it is.
ten
I WAS SURPRISED TO RUN INTO KARA HENDRICKS AS I WAS LEAVING SCHOOL today, and I hated to brush her off, since she is actually one of the few truly good people in this life, even if she is a bit naive and clueless about some things, like boys, but it seemed I had no choice.
“Sorry. Gotta run,” I told her.
“Is everything okay with you?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
I shrugged and dangled my car keys (my spare pair) as in, hint hint—gotta go now. “Sure, Kara, everything’s fine. Peachy keen.”
She frowned. “It doesn’t seem fine, Jordan. In fact, it seems like you’ve really been changing lately.”
I smiled like the phony I’m becoming and just shook my head. “Sorry you see it that way, Kara. But really, I’ve gotta go.”
“Well, I’m praying for you, Jordan,” she called out after me.
Sheesh, why not tell the whole world? But I couldn’t let her get to me right now. I had bigger fish to “frye,” like Shawna.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to do anything to get Shawna out of the picture for a couple of hours since the cheerleaders were having a special meeting afte
r practice tonight. Ashley had told me their plan was to watch some clandestine videos that Ms. Brookes had just gotten through a friend. Now, talk about breaking the rules. Doesn’t it seem just a little unethical that Ms. Brookes had other cheerleading squads secretly videotaped so that we (well, not me since I am excluded while on probation) could study them and possibly increase our chances of taking home a Flair Fair trophy next month? But Ashley said there are no “rules” against such behaviors and that “everybody does it.” So who am I to understand such things, being such a social disgrace and all?
But at least their little spy flick would buy me some precious time to attempt, and hopefully carry out, my plan. First of all, I went home for a bit, just to do a little primping. Then I drove back to the parking lot by the gym, where, according to my calculations, Ms. Brookes’ film fair would be just starting. More important, Timothy’s basketball practice would just be ending, and the boys would be heading for the showers.
I parked near, but not right next to, a certain red Mustang and then, covertly removing an ice pick from my purse just like I was starring in the latest 007 movie, I punctured a tire. Not on the Mustang—good grief, that would be too obvious and might actually get me into serious trouble. And not on Shawna’s car either—that plan would surely backfire.
No, I punctured the tire on my very own car and watched in satisfaction as it hissed its way flat. Then, as if to make my cause even more pitiful, it actually started to rain. Maybe God had decided to take my side for a change. To add to the perfect timing, as I stood there getting soggy and just shaking my head in the most dismal fashion, I heard voices coming up from behind me—guy voices, including what I felt certain must be Timothy’s.
I knelt down as if to examine my pancake tire, then stood and rummaged through my purse (pretending to look for my phone, which was conveniently not there). “Shoot!” I said loudly, careful not to use any forbidden words and be sentenced to even more probation (or worse, expulsion).
I turned around and, spotting Timothy already looking my direction, ran over to him and did my best impersonation of a damsel in distress.
“I can’t believe it,” I told him, actually working tears into my eyes. Or was it just the rain?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly concerned.
“I’ve got a flat tire,” I told him. “Can you believe it? It’s like nothing whatsoever is going right in my life!” I looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Yeah, I heard you got kicked out of cheerleading too.”
“Not exactly kicked out,” I said quickly, trying to preserve what little reputation I had left. “I’m just on probation.” I attempted to regain my troubled expression again, although I was thinking that stupid Shawna had probably told him and anyone willing to listen that I’d been “kicked off” the squad entirely. Oh, well.
“Want some help?” he offered.
I brightened. “Oh, would you, Timothy?”
“Yeah. Where do you keep the spare in that little clown car?”
I smiled and pointed to the hood. “You still call it that?”
And you can imagine my complete surprise when he pulled out the spare tire only to discover that it too was flat. (I’d taken care of that earlier.)
“Man, that just figures,” I told him, shaking my head sadly. “It just goes with the rest of my pitiful little life.” I tried to take the floppy spare tire from him now, but he insisted on placing it back in the car himself.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you, Tim,” I told him. “Now, if I can just find my cell phone, I’ll call someone to come get me.” I dug around in my purse for a while, then held it out for him to inspect. “Am I totally blind? Do you see my cell in there anywhere?” I’d already taken care to conceal the ice pick in a zippered pocket.
“I don’t see it either,” he said quickly. “But we’re getting soaked, Jordan. Why don’t you just get in my car and I’ll give you a ride.”
“But I don’t want to trouble—”
He grabbed me by the arm then. “Come on, Jordan. It’s no big deal, really.”
So, tucked warm and snug in his Mustang, I leaned back into the seat and sighed. “Oh, Timothy, did I ever tell you how much I totally love this car?”
He turned and looked at me in surprise. “Really? You like it? Shawna thinks it smells like gasoline.”
I rubbed my hand over the dash. “I think it smells like the good old days.” Man, was I hitting it or what?
He smiled. “Yeah, me too.”
“We had some great times in here, Tim.”
He nodded and started the ignition. “Where do you want to go?”
I smiled in what I hoped was a seductive way and then said, in a lowered voice, “Hey, I think I’d go anywhere you wanted to take me, Timothy.”
He laughed. “Is that a come-on, Jordan?”
Now I pretended to pout a little. “I’m sorry, Tim. But you have absolutely no idea how hard it’s been on me to lose you.”
“Really?” He turned and looked at me like I was putting him on, but to be completely truthful, that was about the most honest thing I’d said so far.
“Cross my heart and hope to die, Tim.”
“But you didn’t act like it when we broke up,” he said, clearly confused. “I didn’t think you really cared that much.”
“I guess I’m just not that kind of person—to hang on once I know it’s over. I mean, I figured, hey, if you like Shawna more than me, well, what can I do about that?” Now I placed my hand on his thigh. A bold move perhaps, but I felt slightly desperate just then, like this might be my one and only chance and I’d better make good use of it or else just throw in the towel.
Timothy looked pretty surprised but not displeased. In fact, he was smiling.
“Looking back, maybe I handled it all wrong,” I said. “What do you think? Did I totally blow it with you, Tim?”
He seemed to consider this as he put the car into gear and started to back up. “We better get out of here, Jordan.”
I laughed. “Are you worried someone will see us together?”
“I’m not sure.”
It wasn’t long before we were parked in a fairly secluded parking lot on the far side of the city park. And with the rain pouring down and the windows getting fogged by our heated breath, we kissed with a passion that was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. It was almost savage the way we were grabbing for each other. And then we managed to crawl, somewhat awkwardly, into the backseat, where there was only a little more room but at least no gear shift lodged between us.
This is going to be it, I told myself with real determination. I am going to do IT. I am going to win this guy back even if it means I have to give in completely. I’m going to win him back, and then he’ll be mine—all mine! The thought both thrilled and terrified me.
And in that same moment, we heard a loud thumping noise on the roof of the car, and it didn’t seem to be the rain. Timothy rolled down the window to see his own father, a very damp and somewhat disturbed-looking Mr. Lawrence, peering into the car with obvious curiosity.
“What is going on here?” he asked abruptly, and then seeing me, cowering behind Tim, his brows lifted as if he knew exactly what was going on. “Timothy?”
“I—uh—I—”
“I thought something was wrong with your car,” said Mr. Lawrence quickly, and it was clear to see that the poor man was uncomfortable by his discovery. “I thought maybe you’d broken down.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Dad.” Timothy’s voice was slightly irritated.
“Well, I was on my way home from work and I just happened to notice your car as I drove on the overpass.” He cleared his throat. “Couldn’t imagine why you’d be out here in the middle of the rain like this.”
“Jordan had a flat tire,” said Timothy. As if that explained everything. “I was just helping her.”
Mr. Lawrence shook his head. “That’s not how you fix a tire, son.”
“We’re just leavi
ng, Dad.” Timothy got out of the car and went around to the front door as I climbed back into the passenger seat, feeling pretty trampy. But here’s what’s really weird about this whole scenario: I also felt relieved. Hugely relieved. So much so that I actually had to hide the grin that might have destroyed everything. Instead, I hunched down and folded my arms across my chest and acted as if I’d just been denied the greatest opportunity of my entire life.
Timothy got inside the car and exhaled loudly as he watched his dad drive away. Then he punched the steering wheel and cussed.
“Yeah, it just figures,” I said, still hunched over and looking seriously disgruntled.
“Huh?”
“Well, nothing is going right for me anymore.” I made this groaning sound. “It’s just not fair, Tim. Since you left me, my life has just gone from bad to worse to totally messed up and hopeless. I should be wearing a big L on my head for ‘loser.’”
He turned around and patted my head. “I think you’re being too hard on yourself, Jordie.”
I smiled at him. Now usually I hate to be called Jordie, but it sounded kind of sweet coming from him.
“I think we better head out,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
So he started his car and I dug around in my purse until I found some tissues and helped him clean the fog off the front windows. “Got pretty steamy in here,” I said in a slightly suggestive tone.
“That’s for sure.”
“I guess you should probably take me home now,” I told him, sounding disappointed again. “I’ll need to get some help getting my tire fixed and everything.”
“I’d help you,” he said, “but I, well, I was supposed to see Shawna tonight.”
I nodded. “So, are you going to tell her about what happened today?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m sure not going to pressure you, Timothy. I like you way too much to pull something stupid like that. But I will tell you this much. I’m not one of those girls who can be kept secretly on the side, if you know what I mean. I’m a one-guy kind of girl, and I want a one-girl kind of guy. You know?”
Deep Green: Color Me Jealous with Bonus Content Page 6