Instead of reminding him that I too had practices after school and still managed to find the time and energy to do my work, I usually caved, knowing he didn’t take cheerleading seriously and didn’t consider it a sport, even though our coach, Mrs. Parker, was every bit the slave driver that Coach Henderson, the head football coach, was.
Everyone settled into their seats and I was still left without a partner. Ms. Renner pulled an unclaimed slip from the hat. “Looks like we’re missing a student today.” She picked up her class roster from the desk just as the door to the classroom opened and in strutted my new seat buddy.
“Ah, Mr. Nash, so glad you could join us.”
I wasn’t. I wanted to bang my head against the tabletop. I’d rather partner with Jeremy or Daisy any day over Kellen Nash. At least Jeremy and Daisy would put in a little effort, even if it was minimal. Still, I could live with being partnered with Nash if that was the only reason. It wasn’t ideal, I’d much prefer someone like Sarah or Cory, but I was confident I could handle whatever the assignment was. The biggest reason I was dreading this semester partnered with Nash was because Jeremy hated him. This was not going to go over well. Right on cue, Jeremy looked at Nash and then the empty seat beside me, and then back to Nash as Ms. Renner handed him the tiny piece of paper I knew had an eleven scribbled on it.
“No freakin’ way.” Jeremy stood. “You can’t stick Nash with Shaeleigh, Ms. Renner. Let her trade with someone.” He fixed his glare on Nash, who had put together what was going on and was now smirking at Jeremy.
Ms. Renner arched her brows at Jeremy. “I wasn’t aware that Principal Miller put you in charge of this class, Mr. Black.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but knowing he didn’t have a valid point, shut it again.
“Take your seat Mr. Black, and you too Mr. Nash.” Every set of eyes in the classroom followed him back. I ignored his approach though, and kept my eyes fixed on Jeremy, giving him my best reassuring smile. I don’t think he found it very reassuring. He was glaring daggers over my shoulder where Nash had dropped into his seat.
This was going to be a long semester.
Ms. Renner called attention back to the front of the class and began handing out the syllabus. Jeremy reluctantly turned in his seat. A large, rough hand slid a copy of the syllabus across the table to me and I forced myself to look over and meet his gaze. The cocky smirk was gone, his expression neutral but for his eyes, blue and grey and wild like a tumultuous sky. It was the way his eyes always looked, not that I’d had many opportunities to gaze into them. I guess it’s how I imagined they always looked, because it fit.
The first time I ever laid eyes on Jeremy and Nash was in the same instant freshman year. They came from Blackwater Middle School on the south end of town, and I’d attended Conway Middle School on the north, but I think their dislike of one another predated even junior high. That first day they got into a fight right in the hall by my locker. Teachers had to break it up and they were both suspended. On the first day of school.
I could only hope today would be less eventful. It was one repeat of history I could do without, and Jeremy didn’t need to get himself suspended from any games. Sometimes I worried that his spot on the team was the only thing that kept him in line. Nash had no such reservations, nothing holding him back. He’d pick a fight just for the sheer joy of it. I wouldn’t say he was a bully, but he was trouble with a bad attitude and a mountain sized chip on his shoulder. It was a shame he didn’t care about school, because I suspected there was intelligence hiding behind those storm clouds in his eyes. It was in the way he looked at things, the way he looked at me. Keen, shrewd, always observing, and he knew just how to pick a person apart, right down to their core. What buttons to push, which strings to tug on to make them unravel.
I’d witnessed it. Hell, I was experiencing it right now and it was unnerving. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Preppy, blonde bimbo? Shallow, vapid cheerleader? Goodie two shoes? Teacher’s pet? Miss perfect? I’d heard all those things said about me, none of them kindly. None of those were me though, but I doubted he’d believe it. Sometimes I saw the same things when I looked in the mirror.
I don’t know why I even cared what he saw or thought of me, but I knew I felt intimidated by him. He flicked his eyes toward the front of the classroom and then back at me, and I realized I’d been staring for too long and had missed most of Ms. Renner’s syllabus review. I felt my cheeks flush and I shifted my gaze to the front of the class.
“Now that you’re all aware of my expectations for this class, let’s move on to your projects. Over the course of this semester, you will choose a piece of literature. It can be from any time period, including current works, however there will be requirements your selection must meet. You will find them on the outline I’m handing out now.” She passed another stack of papers around the room, and this time they came to me. I took one and passed the rest to Nash.
Ms. Renner continued. “There will be multiple parts to this project. Each one is outlined there for you with what I expect. The first part is due Monday, so I suggest you find a piece to agree on quickly. Keep in mind when choosing that not only will you be required to do a complete literary analysis and six to eight page paper, but you and your partner will be required to select a scene from your chosen work and present it to the class.”
“You mean like act it out?” Steven Standstill blurted.
“How far you go with it will be up to you and your partner. You may choose to do a simple reading, or you can get Shakespearian. I will grade accordingly, however the verbal presentation will only be worth fifteen percent of the overall grade for the project.”
More grumbling, and a few comments about how this wasn’t theater class followed. Me? I was just trying to think of how Kellen Nash and I were ever going to agree on something. I was pretty sure Ms. Renner wouldn’t let us choose the Anarchist Cookbook or the Kama Sutra, the only two books I could see Nash being all that familiar with. The first one was just a guess because I was pretty sure he hated everyone, and well, it fit with his personality. The second was more of an educated guess based off things I’d overheard in the girls’ locker room and seen written in Sharpie on the back of bathroom stalls. Poetic the females in this school were not, graphic and explicit they were.
Ms. Renner shifted gears from the project and moved on to the semester reading list and our first class assignment. English was one of my favorite subjects and I enjoyed a challenge. I was sure Ms. Renner’s class was going to offer that. My only fear was that being partnered with Nash was going to be a different kind of challenge I wasn’t up to.
At the end of class, she gave us ten minutes to discuss our projects with our partners and begin the narrowing down process. I drew in a steadying breath and turned in my seat to face Nash, who was already watching me.
“Any chance you’re going to make this easy on me and just agree with whatever I say?”
A full grin spread across his lips. “Nope.”
I let out a deep exhale. “I thought not. So, any suggestions? Because I was thinking we could do Les Miserables, or maybe something from Hemingway.” Really I would have loved to do Jane Austen, but I knew he would shoot that down in a heartbeat.
“Or, we could do Slaughterhouse Five,” he suggested.
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s so depressing.”
“And Les Mis isn’t?”
I attempted to hide my surprise that he even knew what Les Mis was. “No. It’s hopeful.”
He laughed. “Fine, what about American Psycho?”
I huffed through my nose, fighting back the groan that wanted to escape. “No thanks, and while we’re at it, I’m going to go ahead and rule out all Stephen King before you go there.”
“Too dark?”
“How about Twilight?” I shot back.
“Touché.”
I grinned.
“The Princess Bride?” he suggested seriously this time.
I sighed,
because I would have gladly chosen The Princess Bride, but we couldn’t. “We can’t pick that.”
“Why not?”
“Jeremy will pick it. It’s his favorite movie.”
He wore an amused smirk. “Fine. I have no doubt you have other suggestions.”
“I take it you want something controversial?”
He shrugged, but I knew now he’d want to make some kind of statement with whatever we chose.
“What about Anna Karenina?” It was political, controversial, there was a lesson to be learned, and I could actually stomach it.
“Shit, you want to talk about depressing. Yeah, let’s do a report on a broad who throws herself in front of a train.”
“Ugh,” I released the groan I’d been holding back. “Fine, your turn to suggest something.”
“A Clockwork Orange.”
“You’ve read A Clockwork Orange?” I asked skeptically.
“You haven’t?” he challenged.
“No, I have.” It was one of my father’s favorites. His worn copy was on the bookshelf in my bedroom at home. “But, I think Justin and Sarah are doing that one.” They were at table ten and I heard it mentioned a moment ago.
“Fine, then I’ve got one. The Delta of Venus by Anais Nin. I already have several scenes in mind we could act out.”
I frowned. “I don’t know that one.” The author name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t attach it to any work.
“Look it up when you get home. Let me know what you think tomorrow.” He began gathering up his things, and a moment later the bell rang, ushering everyone to their next period. For me that was lunch. For Jeremy it was fourth period biology. Wherever Nash was headed to next, he wasn’t anxious to stick around this class. He was the first one out the door. Jeremy waited for me to gather my things, and then I walked with him to his next class.
“Was Nash a total dick to you?”
“No. He was fine. I really think you need to let this thing with him go. He only screws with you because he knows how much it gets to you.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just be careful. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to mess with you to get to me. He pulls any shit or won’t do the work, tell Ms. Renner. If you ask, she’ll probably let you work alone.”
“It’ll be fine.” We were outside his class and he bent down and placed a quick kiss on my lips. “Sucks we couldn’t have lunch together.”
“Yeah, but I’ll see you fifth period in gym.”
“See you.” He disappeared inside the class and I went to see who else of my friends had landed in first lunch since both Jeremy and my best friend Cammie had second. I noticed Nash hanging around outside the cafeteria with his small group of friends. I bypassed them without a second glance.
It was only fitting that when fifth period came around and I walked out of the girls’ locker room, Nash was standing in the middle of the gym with one of them. As far as I knew, Derek was his best friend and one of the few people in this school he hung out with. I suspected that was completely by choice. Nash had everything it took to rule this school. He was tall, good looking and athletic, but he opted out of every single popularity contest, despite the coaches trying to recruit him for pretty much every sport our school had. I’d once heard Jeremy whining to Matt and Josh that he didn’t get why all the coaches wanted him so bad, but I guess Nash had played in middle school, and even then had been impressive. I believed it, looking at him now, dressed down in athletic shorts, a white tee stretched across his broad chest that tapered down to a trim waist. He might not play sports, but whatever he did to stay fit was working. I suspected the only thing that kept him from being the most popular guy in school, was himself. He didn’t seem to care about anything, and had no interest in being liked by anyone except the female half of the student body, and even then he didn’t seem all that concerned with actually being liked. For the most part he kept to his very small group of friends and enjoyed stirring up trouble. There were all sorts of rumors that went around about him.
He caught me staring and instantly I looked away, going to stand nowhere near him while I waited for Jeremy to come out of the locker room.
Mr. Kilroy took it easy on us for the first day, going over the rules before making us do a few laps around the basketball court and then letting us split into teams for a game of indoor flag football. The guys were always way too intense, and with Jeremy and his friends on one team and Nash and Derek on the other, the competition heated up quickly. The few of us girls mostly stayed out of the way except when Kilroy was watching to see who was participating. I was glad when class was over and even more grateful when the day was over.
I was wiped after cheer practice and turned down Jeremy’s invitation to have dinner with his family in favor of going home, throwing on some yoga pants and getting a head start on the English and History reading. I made a quick stop by the library and asked if they had a copy of the book Nash had recommended. One of the librarians retrieved it and checked it out to me. I was hungry and they were minutes from closing so I tossed it in my bag without another glance and headed home.
My mom was checked out in the living room, staring mindlessly at the TV, a bottle of wine half gone beside her. She didn’t even bother to ask how the first day of my last year of high school was. She could hardly be bothered to look up when I walked through to the kitchen. It was nothing new. I couldn’t remember the last real conversation we’d had. The only time she seemed to actually show an interest was when she felt I wasn’t living up to the standards of this family, or she needed me to put on my fake face and attend some stupid charity function with her. That’s what our relationship consisted of. Behind closed doors it was long bouts of silence, followed by lectures and disappointment that turned to more silence. But out there, we were the image of class and sophistication and the biggest lie of all, happy.
I found everything I needed in the fridge to make myself a chicken salad and then took it up to my room, where I started pulling books and notebooks from my backpack.
The English project outline fell to the floor along with the library book. I snatched them up and took a closer look at the book. The cover featured a dark haired woman, well her back anyway. Some kind of toga or sheet draped her shoulders. I flipped it open to the first chapter, something about a Hungarian adventurer.
I didn’t make it ten pages before I slammed the book closed and tossed it on my bed, my cheeks flushed and my heart thudding a little quicker.
Then I noticed the faint word that I had somehow missed before at the top of the book in tiny, almost unnoticeable script.
Erotica.
Asshole, I thought.
Five
Shae
April 29
Present …
“Then I think we can both agree there’s no sense in dragging the past back up.”
“That’s fine with me,” he bristled. “I wasn’t looking to rehash old arguments. I just thought we could put it behind us and–”
“And what? Be friends?” I laughed bitterly. “You and I both know friends was the one thing we never could do very well.”
“Things change. We’ve both changed. We can be adults about this. I’d like to hear how you’ve been. You’re living in New York?” He really wanted to do this.
“Trust me, Nash, you don’t want to hear about the last seven years of my life, and I’m not interested in being friends. In a few days, I’ll be back in New York and this little blast from the past will be just another bad memory.”
His face hardened. “I never would have believed if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes, but you really are an ice cold bitch.” He stole my move and shoved past me, grabbing a leather jacket from a hook inside the door and pushed his way outside.
I stood in the middle of the shop, aware that eyes were on me. When I glanced at Laurel, the name I now knew went with the blue hair, she regarded me carefully.
“You knew him a long time ago. Whatever happened back then, he’s a good gu
y,” she said tightly and then turned her attention to the computer screen, a clear dismissal after my perceived unfair treatment of her boss.
I didn’t respond. I had no doubt the guy she knew and the one I remembered were not the same, but it didn’t change the fact that when I looked at him, all I could see was the face that wrecked my whole world. It was better for both of us if I kept my word and headed back to New York at the first opportunity before we caused any more damage.
Despite what he thought, I wasn’t ice. If anything, I felt too much. That had always been my weakness. He used to know it. At least, I’d wanted to believe he knew me better than anyone, but he proved he didn’t really know me at all. I hated him for what happened, the betrayal I still felt, but I couldn’t shut off the part of me that understood there were things back then that were out of his control. Life hadn’t dealt him an easy hand. Life had dealt him a shit hand and he’d made of it what he could, and I got caught in the fallout of his choices. More than he even knew.
There was nothing for me to say to this blue-haired girl, judging me for what she thought she knew, and there was no reason for me to still be standing here. Even the name of this place brought memories to the surface I didn’t want to think about.
Bulletproof.
You just gotta make your heart bulletproof, Shae.
That bad hand life dealt him, well it was really bad. Not the kind of life anyone should have to live, but especially not a teenager. The way he got through it, and the way he told me to deal with my mom when things got bad, was to make my heart bulletproof. Put up walls and don’t let ‘em in, don’t let ‘em get to you. If you don’t care, they can’t hurt you. That was his way of dealing. The problem with shutting everyone out though, is even when you find someone you want to let in, you forget how. It’s a lot easier to put the walls up than it is to tear them down.
I shook my head, clearing away the memory like an etch-a-sketch. Only it wasn’t that simple. I needed to leave. Two steps had me almost to the door, but another voice from my past stopped me.
Anywhere But Here Page 3