As he curled his arms around her, I spun away from the display, suddenly antsy. Of course someone as beautiful and vivacious as Arielle would have a thing with Maison’s quarterback. Such a cliché, but it made sense that the president of one of the most popular sororities on campus would be involved with one of the most popular students.
The walls started to close in around me. I needed fresh air. Wiping my damp forehead, I muscled my way through the horde clogging the hallway and up to the third-floor stairwell that would take me to the roof. I wouldn’t be bothered there, and I could continue watching all those around me enjoying themselves while I pretended I was one of them and not an outcast.
WHOEVER DECORATED the roof had done an incredible job. Red and white lights were strung up high on lines crisscrossing from poles near the far edges of the roof. Tables and chairs had been set out in a circle, including one covered with drinks and snacks. Near the entrance and off to the side was a DJ. A wooden floor had been constructed in the middle for people to dance on. It wasn’t as crowded here as inside, but it had begun filling up.
After finding a seat at a round table next to the drinks, I grabbed a bottle of water instead of a ginger ale. I toed off my sandals and wiggled my aching feet. My cell pinged, and I took it out of my pocket, placing it on the table. Both Jo and Tris had texted me, wanting to know where I’d disappeared to.
I texted I was around, but not saying where. I didn’t need them to act as my babysitters or check on me. I slouched back in the chair, sipping my water and viewing the action.
So far there hadn’t been any fights or out-of-control behavior. But from what I could see, no one was drunk or high. If anyone was drinking something stronger than soda, they were careful or held their liquor well. An hour into a party back in Underwood, drinking games were in almost every room, and joints would be passed around. Back then I wasn’t a fan of them, but Larissa had always wanted to go. After she drank a few beers or smoked up, she’d take me someplace quiet like a bedroom or laundry room to make out. We had been extremely lucky no one ever caught us.
My hand constricted around the plastic bottle. What had I had with Larissa? Had it been a total lie? Had any of it been real for us?
I finger-combed my hair back, tucking it behind my ears. The too-short strands fell over my forehead. Frustrated, I poured water on my fingers and went to wet my hair to keep those wayward strands in place, but I froze when Arielle walked onto the roof.
I slouched farther down in the chair as she searched the area. Maybe she was just making sure everything was okay and would leave. But then a slender woman in a bright floral minidress, with her dark hair swept up in some intricate design, hurried over to Arielle.
Arielle said hello but didn’t act as welcoming as I expected her to. The woman didn’t take the hint, and holding her red solo cup in one hand, encircled Arielle with one arm high around her neck. Arielle gave the woman a tentative pat and tried stepping away, but the woman stuck to her. She set her mouth near Arielle’s ear, her lips moving fast. Arielle disentangled herself from the smothering woman who didn’t want to let go.
She was saved by two other women, in the same type of dress as the woman who was hanging on Arielle. One mouthed “sorry” to Arielle while the other one dragged the hanger-on toward the door. I noticed her saying “bathroom.” The hanger-on nodded and actually hopped up and down. Arielle didn’t walk away but set her hand on her high-strung admirer and said something to make the woman smile. She gave Arielle another one-armed hug, and finally her two friends guided her down the stairs. When they were out of view, Arielle piled her hair up on top of her head, showing off the long line of her throat.
I finished the water in my crumpled bottle, still thirsty as Arielle exposed herself. No one else approached her. After her stretch, she rested her hands on her hips and stared straight at me.
I coughed on a swallow and averted my gaze. Had she noticed my peeping? I peered up, jolted when she appeared at my table with two bottles of water.
“May I join you?” She jiggled the bottles. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Sure,” I said with a skip in my voice. She sat down on my left and held the bottle for me to take.
I accepted it, making sure our fingers didn’t touch. Arielle opened her bottle and took a long drink, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. I didn’t open mine, although I was tempted to roll it across my forehead. Hopefully I didn’t smell too funky from my sweat. If she caught a whiff of my BO, I’d never live it down.
She finished almost half the bottle and sighed. “I needed a drink. My throat is on fire.”
“Why?” I finally unscrewed the cap to my bottle.
“I’ve been talking nonstop for the last hour. I don’t drink soda, and we ran out of water downstairs. That’s why I came up here.” She wiped away the condensation from her bottle and dabbed it under her ears.
Three small silver hoops hung from her earlobes. I tugged on my right one, free of earrings. I hated needles. The idea of piercing any part of my skin gave me the willies.
“You don’t drink soda?” I sipped from my bottle.
“Nope. My parents didn’t let me or my brother have soda as kids. Mom thought sugar and caffeine together was a bad mix, so we only drank freshly brewed ice tea or lemonade made from scratch.” She grinned and tapped her bottle to mine. “Dad let us have chocolate milk, though.”
“Your parents are health nuts?” Dad had tried to enforce healthy eating, but it was hard for him since he worked such long hours. He would usually order takeout or buy frozen microwave meals.
“Mom is. She rubbed off on Dad. But she’s one hell of a cook, even if we mainly ate vegetables and interesting types of beans with almost every meal,” Arielle said proudly.
I couldn’t think of a time I’d had a conversation with someone else about their parents, let alone their family’s eating habits. It should have been strange, but it wasn’t. Coming from Arielle, it was fascinating. Hearing her talk, even about food, was soothing.
“You’re not a fan of junk food either?” I asked.
She smiled around the rim of her bottle. “Is pizza considered a junk food?”
“It depends where you order it from or how it’s made.” Pizza had been a Friday night staple for dinner, if and when Dad was home early enough to eat with me.
“Maison’s caf makes great pizza.” She licked her lips. “I’d give anything for a slice right now.”
Her lips glistened. I played with the label on my bottle instead of staring at her mouth. Then my stomach released a strange creaking sound—all this talk of pizza had made me hungry.
She grew silent as she finished her water. I shifted in my seat, trying to come up with something else to say, but I found myself at a loss for words. I wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, and talking with Arielle made me tongue-tied.
If she sensed I was bothered, she didn’t act like it. She didn’t fidget in her seat either, her hands resting on the table with her bottle. She had long fingers, bare of any rings, but her nails were painted a dark green. I dug my fingers in my palms, hiding my unpolished and ratty nails.
She suddenly faced me and hung her arm over the back of her seat. “Do you have siblings?”
“I’m an only child.” I didn’t explain why. Mentioning my mother’s death and how Dad never remarried didn’t feel appropriate.
“I have a younger brother. He’s a sophomore.” She smiled again, but a tighter-lipped one than before.
“You’re not happy he’s here?” I wondered why she’d brought him up. A warning for me to stay away from him?
She rested the side of her head on her fist. “We’re close, so I don’t mind if he’s around. I’m just making conversation.”
“Interesting way to make conversation.” I could have said more personal things about myself, but she would ask more questions. I’d rather concentrate on the present instead of my past and what had brought me to Albee.
“Do you enjoy being
an only child?” She crossed her leg over the other. The side of her foot brushed my calf.
I barely felt her foot through my pants, but I pulled away for more space. “I never really thought about it.”
“You’re going from just you and your dad to a house with more than double that,” she said in a soft tone, her voice rising slightly as if she wanted to ask, but changed her mind at the last second.
I cupped my hands around my knees to stop from bending over them. I didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “Tris told you my deal?”
“She told me her cousin is staying at her house and going to her old high school for senior year. She said you might have trouble making friends, especially because you had to stay back a year and should really be a college freshman.” Arielle now sat more to her side, as if she wanted to block us from the others loitering nearby. “That’s why I mentioned my brother. He’s great at helping people and making them comfortable in new surroundings. He’s here tonight, so I’ll introduce you to him.”
I could kill Tris for making me sound like an outcast. It didn’t make any sense why she would spill so much about me to Arielle, who I’d just met a few days ago. But instead of storming downstairs to give Tris a piece of my mind, I remained calm. I didn’t want Arielle to think I was a weirdo. She’d already gotten a small taste from Tris overreacting about me being on the roof, and then the discussion downstairs that she’d probably overheard. I’d play it cool, because I didn’t want to make things between us more awkward.
“Do you want me to meet your brother for some reason?” I released my knees and rolled the bottle across the table.
“He’s a good judge of character.” She shrugged.
“You’re not a good judge of character? That’s why you need your brother to check me out and give his approval?” Agitated, my voice hitched. I was reminded how Byron had always been there when I was with Larissa at their house. I’d found out too late it was his way of manipulating her—she’d always needed his blessing when it came to the people she hung out with or considered her friends. He’d questioned Larissa’s relationship with me for his own selfish reasons, not because he was a concerned brother. He’d established a trust with me, using his sister to get to me. In his warped mind, he thought I would want him like every other girl at our school. I’d never wanted him, but I hadn’t minded his attention because it made me feel special.
“I’m insightful when it comes to people, but with you, I just don’t know yet.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it was loud enough that it hit me like whiplash.
I opened my mouth to respond, but I was at a loss. She had formed some opinion about me that I didn’t understand. If she had the same type of relationship with her brother that Larissa had with Byron, I didn’t want any part of it.
“Is this because of what you saw between me and Tris? You want your brother to be some sort of mediator? Tris and I are cool now, so don’t bother.” I took out my cell. Tris had left another text for me. “Speaking of which, she’s looking for me, so—”
The hipster blond guy—who’d flirted with Tris when we arrived—appeared. “Hey, everyone!” He reached out and hugged the people closest to him.
“Took him long enough,” Arielle said under her breath. “I asked him to come up here with me, but he just has to do his own thing. Always wants to make an entrance, the showoff.” Frustration changed to tenderness as she viewed the guy. It was obvious from the way she stared at him that she had feelings for him. First the quarterback and now the hipster.
“I have to go.” I jumped out of my seat, startling Arielle.
She started to rise, reaching out her hand. “Don’t go yet. You can meet—”
The hipster came up behind her and covered her eyes. “Guess who?”
Busy with Arielle, he either didn’t notice me or didn’t care to acknowledge me. With her attention diverted, I made my escape. I rushed over to the exit, ignoring her calling my name. I never stopped, darting down the steps and panting with worry that she would chase after me.
She’d rattled me more than I wanted to admit. All the talk of her and her brother, and the odd conversation we’d had, spooked me. Maybe she was a psychology major and wanted to analyze me for some project? If she did, I wouldn’t be around to find out. After tonight I would stay away from this house and Arielle, perhaps the campus, just to be safe.
I didn’t stop until I was out front, then sat on the curb with my head between my knees. No one came up to me or asked if I was okay. The laughter and buzz of conversation, along with the music, continued while I tried to steady myself.
When Jo sent me another text, I finally answered her, telling her where to find me. Within minutes she came outside and sat down next to me.
“Are you okay?” She peered at my face in concern.
“I want to go home now. Too much fun for one night.” I tried to find the energy to smile. I failed, hugging my arms around my waist and rocking.
“Let me find Paul so he can drive us home. Don’t move.” She rose to her feet, leaving me to go back inside the house.
I kept my chin on my knees, studying the blacktop of the street and smoothing out my breathing in order to calm my racing heart.
Chapter SIX
WHY DID most high schools have the same black-framed, black-numbered, white-dialed clock? It didn’t matter if it was a classroom, auditorium, gymnasium, or office, like Aunt Eloise’s. The boring clock on the wall clicked away the hours until I returned the next day.
The scent of lavender clogged my nose. The same smell lingered in most of the rooms at Aunt Eloise’s house. She must love the smell, which permeated her office at Albee High. This was my second visit in the two weeks since school had started. The second Thursday after school, for an hour.
One of the promises Dad had made with Aunt Eloise was that I’d meet with her every week at school. We met there instead of at the house because it allowed for more privacy.
Waiting in the stiff chair in front of her desk while she talked to a teacher out in the hallway, I picked the desk calendar up off her desk, reading the day’s inspirational quote.
“Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn.”
Funny how the same one was framed on the wall under the clock.
Aunt Eloise said goodbye to whomever she was talking to and entered the room. I put the calendar back in its place as she closed the door and sat behind her desk.
“Sorry about the interruption.” She folded her hands on the desk.
“No biggie. We have to wait for Jo to get out of yearbook anyway.” I settled back in the chair with my legs out in front of me.
“How are you adjusting? You’re fitting in well?” she asked.
“I’m good. Everyone has been cool, and my classes aren’t stressing me out yet.” Even though most of the kids in my classes were friendly, no one had gone out of their way to get to know me. Not that it bothered me too much.
“We wouldn’t want you too stressed. You should enjoy your senior year. It’s going to fly by and be over before you know it.” She selected a folder off a plastic tray and opened it, scanning the paper on top.
“What’s that?” I bent forward to get a look.
“Notes from your teachers on how receptive you are in their classes.”
Receptive, like not falling asleep in class? I might not be valedictorian material, but I always paid attention in my classes and did my work, handing in papers on time. Also, how had any of my teachers formed an opinion about me so soon?
“Anything important in there?” I asked.
She closed the folder. “Nothing much yet, seeing as it’s still early in the school year. What about your relationship with your classmates? Jo tells me no one is giving you any problems.”
“Having Jo spy on me?” I snarled, crossing my arms over my chest.
Her eyes widened, and she folded her hands on her desk again. “I’m not having Jo spy on you. When I ask her h
ow school is, I also ask about you.”
“You could always just ask me.” I toned down the ’tude.
“I do, but you don’t give me much to go on. If anyone is causing you problems—”
“No one in my classes is bothering me, if that’s what you want to know. I didn’t have any problems with any students at my former high school either.” Underwood had their share of bullies, and the less popular students got picked on, but I couldn’t think of anyone too harassed or physically attacked. I’d never worried. But I had kept to myself and hung out with people who were well-liked. I also didn’t broadcast being gay, so I hadn’t been a target.
Aunt Eloise rocked back in her chair, eyeing me. I couldn’t tell if she believed me or not. I should give her something positive so she wouldn’t be on my case.
“There’s a lot of after-school clubs. I’m still deciding which ones I should join,” I said.
“That’s good you’re thinking of joining some.” She fluffed her bangs. “You may want to check out the LGBTQ group.”
“Because I’m gay?” I’d never announced my status so bluntly to my aunt until now. If I’d expected to stun her, I was disappointed. Other than arching her eyebrows, she kept a blank face. She didn’t fiddle in her seat, unlike me. I slipped my hands under my legs to stop playing with them.
“Because I want you to be honest with me, I’ll be honest with you. So yes, I’m recommending the LGBTQ club because you should fit in well there. It’s one of our most popular clubs, with around one hundred members.” The corner of her mouth lifted, showing off a small dimple. “Anyone can join, not just gay students. Many members are heterosexual.”
“How long has the group been around? My former high school didn’t have one.” Even if Underwood had a LGBTQ group, it wouldn’t have lasted. I couldn’t think of one student at my former high school who was openly gay. If anyone had been, they’d kept it to themselves like I had.
“Six years, I think. Principal Barnet’s son started the group. He’s gay,” Aunt Eloise announced.
Rage to Live Page 6