Rival Love

by Natalie Decker

  This feels like a repeat of civics. I hope she doesn’t dump any more sports drinks. The last thirty-five minutes of civics was pure hell. Gabe reeked of fruit punch, and I can’t take another second let alone twenty-five minutes of that scent.

  Skylar impresses me, though. I actually hate admitting this, but it’s true. It’s obvious she didn’t tell Mr. Munzo the truth nor did she tell Erin I Saran-Wrapped the toilet. This girl is just full of surprises, to say the least.

  I watch her make her way to the windows and take a seat in the far back. Our class has less than twenty students in it, so she’s practically by herself back in the corner. I’m surprised Ms. Norris hasn’t asked her to move yet, but I guess she feels sorry for Skylar. Maybe I kind of feel bad for her too. It’s gotta suck for her, but if the roles were reversed I’m pretty sure Skylar would be just as cruel if any of us were walking into Bulldog territory.

  “Continuing where I left off on the syllabus, Caleb, would you please read what you’ll be reading and learning in class this year?” Ms. Norris says.

  I clear my throat and begin, “Our reading list will contain works from A Separate Peace by John Knowles.” A snort comes from the back of the room, and I can only assume it’s from Skylar. I don’t know what’s so amusing about this title, but I don’t want to find out. “Also My Antonia by Willa Cather, along with some works of poetry. We will learn how to read poetry as well as write it and learn the different styles of writing and how to apply them.”

  “Thank you. Any questions, class?”

  No one raises their hand. Everyone acts mute, even the girls a few seats in front of me. “All right. Since no one has any questions, let’s start off by pairing up with someone in the room. We’re going to find out the person’s name, what they like, dislike, favorite food, whatever. You’re in charge of making up the questions, and then we’re going to read these aloud. So yes, make them appropriate questions.”

  I glance back at Skylar and notice her eyes are wide. I should go help her out, for Erin’s sake, but it would look bad on my part. She’s on her own. Just like she was all on her own when Gabe attempted to pour his drink on her. Someone tugs on my sleeve causing me to turn my attention to Laura. “Hey, wanna interview me?”

  “Sure.”

  I notice Kayla, the transfer from California, leave her seat, which is in front of me, and head toward Skylar’s section. Laura laughs, “Look, the geek is going to talk to the spaz. Pathetic.”

  I smirk at Laura. “So, what kind of questions do you got for me, babe?” She blushes. My words mean nothing, but I’m pretty sure she’s not thinking that. Women. They always take the slightest thing and twist it into something it’s not.

  She twirls a strand of blond hair around her finger and blows out a bubble of gum. Snap. She chomps, showing off the gum. Uck, I hate when chicks do this. “Well, how about your favorite color?”

  I frown. I already know how these questions will go from here: typical, non-thinking, uninteresting questions—lame. “I’ve got two: red and blue.”

  She giggles. “I guessed that. How fun.” She writes down my answers and continues going through her list of terrible questions. And since she doesn’t bother asking me anything interesting I ask her the same questions.

  Once we’re finished, Ms. Norris begins rattling off names. Garrett and Amy go first, next is Brian and Diana. I pretend to listen. Because most of these people I already know and don’t give a shit about what they like to do. Slouching in my seat, keeping my eyes on either Diana’s long legs or Amy’s cleavage, a smile finally forms when our teacher says, “Skylar Fletcher, you and Kayla Winslow are up next.”

  Skylar strolls up to the front. Kayla follows but is at least three strides behind, and then stands like a foot away from Skylar. This is going to be priceless.

  Kayla looks over at Ms. Norris and she nods. Clearing her throat Kayla starts, “This is Skylar Fletcher. Skylar loves playing guitar, eating Twizzlers, playing sports, and spitting. She’s a three-year state-champion swimmer, and an all-state softball player. Her mother moved her here without consent, and she really resents her for it, along with everyone here. Her favorite color is orange, red, and green because those are the colors everyone from here will eventually see. Orange is for her true school, red is blood being spilt, and green is the grass where most will be laid out. She also can’t believe your mothers let you leave the house with your butts hanging out and stomp around in hooker boots. She wants to know if you plan on working the corners, or trying out for the school play, Pretty Woman.”

  Ms. Norris gasps, “Stop the interview!”

  Skylar snatches the paper from Kayla and continues. “I also loathe every single one of you.” She tosses the paper to the floor and says, “So, who here wants to know about Kayla Winslow? Hmmm?” Ms. Norris is moving from her desk and around the room, while Skylar starts dodging her attempts to capture her. “That’s Kayla Winslow. She’s excited about seeing snow for the first time, since most of her life she’s been living in California.”

  “Miss Fletcher!”

  I’m surprised no one has tripped her or helped Ms. Norris out on this capture, but I must admit this is so much better than “This is…and they like…” If she wasn’t a stupid Bulldog, I’d try to help her escape.

  Skylar snorts as Ms. Norris fails at catching her again. “Kayla has a Blue Heeler named Pepper, and an annoying brother named Kai. She’s a vegetarian, but will devour a whole bag of animal crackers. Sucks to be them. She loves surfing and would be doing that after school, if we had an ocean. Too bad all we have are lakes and the only waves they get are from boats. She also loves to swim and play volleyball. Her life-long dream is to become a dentist.” She frowns. “I hope no one bites you.”

  “Miss Fletcher! Go to the office right this minute.”

  She shrugs. “Fine with me. That, class, is Kayla.” She snatches up her bag and heads out the door.

  Chapter 15

  Skylar

  “Twice in one day? My, my, Miss Fletcher, seems you’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” Principal Keegan asks.

  His slender finger taps against the file that contains all record of my former life. Duke University, I just kissed you goodbye. Swimming and softball, looks like you’re on the farewell train too.

  “I’m not certain I understand our problem here. Mr. Timmons…” And as if on cue Brian enters the room. Awesomesauce! “Ah! There he is right now. Brian…would you care to inform Miss Fletcher here what you said about her in order to get her into this private school at such short notice?”

  I look up at Brian in spite of my resentment of him for being part of the reason I’m in this stupid office in the first place. Brian adjusts his tie and clears his throat. “Well, um…I uh…just said what a good kid you were. Never caused trouble. Did community service. Helped out down at the food banks during the holidays. Good leader skills, and is a very smart student.” He looks deeply confused. “Why are you in here again?”

  Damnit. My mother told him a lot about me, and he made me look like a saint to this principal. She left out the part about bailing me out of juvie for breaking curfew, because Kevin and I were…destroying this very school’s football field. We were almost to his house when we got busted. We lied and said we were at a movie. Thank God my evil side is intelligent and I bought two tickets in advance for one of the midnight premieres.

  Yes, I can be devious and caring, and I like keeping both hidden. Especially the community service, no one needs to mark me as a softy. No one respects a softy, not that it matters as long as I’m here.

  “Miss Fletcher here thinks it’s okay to disrupt class, harass students, and not follow the rules set for this school. Isn’t that right, Miss Fletcher?”

  I smile. “I plead the fifth.”

  “This isn’t a courtroom. Pleading the fifth doesn’t work here,” Principal Keegan practically screams. His face went from a nice olive complexion to a beet-red in a matter of seconds. Wow, I must really
bring the best out of this guy.

  “Skylar?” Brian starts.

  I frown, even though I should scream, “What?” Silence fills the vacant spaces words should be deflecting off. It’s crazy, I know, but a small part of me respects Brian. Oh, yes, I hate him very much for putting me in this position and having a hand in my transfer. But I still respect him because of how he treats my mother. She hasn’t been very happy after my father, and most of the men she dated were assholes. Total douches that didn’t bother calling me “Liv” or “Sky.” No, I was known to them as Kiddo, Princess, or Hey You.

  “I’m having a bad time adjusting, that’s all. I’m sorry.” It’s not a total lie, but it’s not the whole truth either.

  Mr. Keegan leans back in his chair and observes me. “Disrupting classes is not how you should start the school year off. Now, I understand that being a senior you might think you can just get away with this kind of behavior. But let me be clear, you cannot behave like this. Detention after school. Hopefully that straightens out your attitude.”

  Brian nods. “Skylar will not let this stuff happen again. Come on, it’s time for lunch.”

  I’m not supposed to be seen with Brian, so I ditch him as soon as possible.

  Where am I going to eat lunch? That’s the question of all questions. I can’t go to the cafeteria, that would be flat-out stupid on my part. I’m definitely not eating in one of the girls’ bathrooms because that’s just nasty.

  Without even realizing where my feet are leading me, I end up at the back entrance to the pool. The front desk is deserted and the boys’ locker room door to the left of me is wedged open a crack. Glancing around, I push open the door and make my way to the pool deck. The smell of chlorine hits me hard and stings my eyeballs. I blink a few times and smile.

  I walk past the undisturbed pool and up to the upper deck where the fans sit. Taking a seat on the bleachers, I sigh. If I can’t get my mom to transfer me back to Harris Academy, can I really skip a whole year of swimming? The thought of it makes me ill. Swimming is a part of me, like breathing, eating, living. But I know I can’t join this team. I can’t betray my friends like that. My heart aches. I feel so trapped.

  This is completely unfair. For the first time in my life, I wish I wasn’t me. If I sucked at sports this wouldn’t matter. If I was a nobody, no one here would care what school I came from. It’s true, too.

  Turning my head to the ceiling I ask, “Why did you do this to me? Am I supposed to learn a lesson here?”

  A loud mass of giggles echoes up to me. I peer over the glass railing and see a group of swimmers with their Bobcat Swim t-shirts on, fanning out over the pool deck. Shit! They haven’t spotted me yet, but I’m not about hang around until they do. I snatch my paper-sack lunch and sneak toward the nearest exit.

  I hear someone whine, “I hope that bitch doesn’t try out for the team!”

  I keep my eyes on the girls while making my way to the other end of the stands. Amber snarls, “If she does, it’ll be up to us to get rid of her, because you know Coach will want her on the team.” She looks at the three girls with her. “She’s not even that great of a swimmer. Do you see how she roams the halls? Like, ‘I’m Skylar Fletcher. I won state in not one but two sports, three times. I’m so awesome, bow down to me. Blah-blah-blah.’ God! Why’s that freaking bitch even here?”

  Covering my mouth I try to stifle back the laugh building in my chest over the imitation I just saw. I hear Laura from my English class start. “She totally acted like the queen bee in English. I mean, can we say, needs attention or what?”

  Heads nod, and I’m finally at the door. The handle clicks, and heads turn to the popping sound. Oh, man! “What the…” I hear as I dart out the door and sprint down the flight of steps. I don’t even wait to get to the last step and jump from the fourth to last. Hitting the ground, aftershocks ripple up my legs, but I ignore it as the locker room door bursts open with a group of girls flying out.

  Sprinting, I rush through the commons. The girls are following, but I’m outrunning them by two full car lengths. High-pitched screams, along with shouts and some deep authoritative voices follow. “Hey! Stop! Hey!” I don’t listen. I keep running, whipping down a long hall and darting right, then jumping down four steps and taking off. I test the first door on my left. Locked. Rushing to the next one on my right, I test it. “Score,” I whisper and step in. I flick on a light, and find myself in a janitor’s closet. “Nice.”

  My fingers swing the lock and I switch off the lights. Pressing my back against the door, I slide to the ground and sigh. Pounding footsteps file down the hall and then the doorknobs start jiggling. I pull out my phone and start playing a game of Angry Birds because I have a feeling I’m going to be in this closet for the rest of the day.

  Chapter 16

  Caleb

  At lunch there’s rarely any entertainment. It’s mostly people shooting the shit and eating. Today, we got a whole lot of fun-filled action when Skylar outruns Amber, Laura, Jillian, and Pam, along with our athletic director, Mr. Chamberlin, and my football coach, Mr. Dillon.

  Skylar eventually vanishes, and no one can find her. She doesn’t even attend her last set of classes. The whole school won’t shut up about it either. “The Bulldog finally ran home.” If only this were true.

  As soon as the final bell rings, I head to my car. My uncle is waiting beside it, and with his worried expression, I know exactly what this conversation is going to be about. He better not even mention her name with all these people flooding the parking lot. Someone will overhear him and then I’ll be the next one running away from a mob of people.

  “Caleb, a word. In my room.”

  “I’ve got practice.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Practice can wait. This is a family matter.”

  I roll my eyes. Family matter my ass. Skylar hiding out is not my problem. She’s not even family! She doesn’t want to be here. I don’t want her here. Sure, there are some perks, like a hot chick living across the hall from me, wearing skimpy shorts and all that jazz, but it’s Skylar.

  Uncle Brian is not taking no for an answer and I reluctantly follow him up to his room. Once we’re there, he shuts the door and says, “I need your help finding Skylar.”

  I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “Seriously, why should I help? She’s been nothing but a brat since she got here.” Plus, it’ll be better for all of us.

  “Look, I know you guys have your differences right now, but Caleb, this is Erin’s daughter. If she hears about any of this, I’ll lose her forever. Please. Help me find Skylar.” The way he’s pleading makes me cave.

  I sigh. “Fine, I’ll help.” Can’t believe I’m missing practice for this. Coach is going to have a field day with me when I get there.

  Heading down to the music room, my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and hit the ignore button. No one can know what I’m doing right now, that includes Derrick, who calls me three more times. I make my way down the halls and try a few of the doors. All of them are locked. I roll my eyes and kick the one on the right. “Damnit!”

  “Crap!”

  “Skylar?”

  “Caleb?”

  I glare at the door. It opens a crack. She looks around and then straight at me.

  “Are we having fun in there?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “My battery just died. I was on level fifteen of Angry Birds.”

  “That game is for five-year-olds. Come on, my uncle has been looking everywhere for you.” She enters the hallway and looks down at the ground.

  She doesn’t say anything as we walk up to my uncle Bri’s classroom.

  When we reach the landing on the first floor, she huffs. “Stop.” I do and she faces me. “Why did you do it?” Before I answer, she shakes her head. “Why are you being nice to me and I don’t know, looking for me instead of going on with your life?” she mutters.

  “Brian guilt-tripped me into it. This doesn’t mean anything.”

  She nods. “Go
od.”

  We continue toward my uncle’s room. He smiles as soon as he spots us. To say Skylar and I were as pleased as him would be an absolute lie. “Skylar, where have you been?”

  “I was in a janitor’s closet playing Angry Birds.” She smiles. “So…should I be heading to detention now?”

  Brian frowns. “Yes. We can talk about this later, I guess.”

  “We don’t have to. I mean, look, Brian, you’re a cool person. But let’s be real here. You’re not my dad, so the whole talking thing…” She sucks in a breath. “Yeah, that’s not going to be happening.”

  I don’t know who’s more shocked—me or my uncle. “Um…I need to get to practice.”

  My uncle looks at me and nods. “Yeah, sure. Uh…let me give you a note.” He walks over to his desk and starts writing on a Post-it. My gaze follows Skylar as she makes her way to the door and leaves. Brian sets his pen down and sighs. “I don’t know what happened today. Skylar is usually the sweetest kid you’d ever meet.”

  “Maybe it’s her time of the month.” I take the sticky note and start to head toward the door.

  “Oh, Caleb, before I forget, could you pick Skylar up at her work tonight? She gets off around seven.”

  I glare at the glass in the door. “Why do I have to do it?”

  “I think it’d be best if you picked her up. Spent some time with her. She’s a pretty good person once you get to know her.”

  Annoying—yes. Hot—yes. Good person, as in a saint? Please. I nod though. “Fine.” I walk out the door before he tacks on more crap for me to do like go to the grocery store or something equally dumb.

  ***

  “Run, Morgan!” Coach Dillon screams from the fifty-yard line. Sweat is pouring off me as I turn a corner and run across the end zone, heading for the sideline. My punishment for being late: twenty laps. The entire field. I’m currently on lap eighteen, and my sides are on fire. My legs beg for me to stop, but thanks to that freaking Bulldog I can’t.