Freak 'N' Gorgeous

by Sebastian J. Plata

  Also, why is he acting like he’s nervous, like he’s the uncomfortable one? Am I a nuisance? He’s the one who wanted to “be friends” in the first place. Turning to the window on my side, I mumble, “I don’t want to be here either.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  I take a deep breath. I don’t know how long I’m going to last, but I have to at least try to be nice. “I asked if the Starbucks on North Avenue is okay.”

  “Actually,” he says. “do you mind if we go downtown?”

  I whirl his way. My sunglasses cast him in shadow, but even through them I notice the bruise under his eye. “Actually, I do mind.” An hour at Starbucks I can handle. There’ll be other people—plenty of distractions. Going downtown would mean almost an hour alone in the car with him. That’s way more weirdness than I signed up for. And why would he want to spend that much time with me on a Saturday night anyway? Something’s fishy.

  “Trust me,” he says, smiling—actually smiling. “You won’t regret it.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. He’s out of his damn mind. Does he think I’m going to clap my hands at an opportunity to hang out with him like all the other girls at school?

  It’s time to get this shit over with. I was going to wait until after I had my coffee, but I don’t think I can survive that long anymore. After he hears what he wants to hear—and I know exactly what he wants to hear—he’ll be out of here in the blink of an eye. I’ll record it so I have proof of his selfish assholery, and then I’ll have the rest of my Saturday to myself.

  As discreetly as I can, I tap the record function on my phone—all set up ahead of time—and place it screen down on my lap.

  “Look,” I say, turning my whole body to face him. I try to smile so it looks genuine and everything. “I don’t blame you anymore, okay?”

  The car is quiet. I let the words sink in and wait for him to leave. To disappear and never talk to me again. Because that’s the kind of person Konrad Wolnik really is. Because that’s all he really wants.

  But he stays put.

  “Thanks,” he says, staring at me with those breathtaking post-Development eyes of his. “That means a lot.”

  My mouth peels back into a grimace. “Did you hear me? You don’t have to feel bad anymore.”

  “I heard you.”

  I shrug impatiently and gesture at the passenger side door. “Okay then. You’re off the hook. Leave. Go hang out with Becca or something.”

  “Nah, let’s go downtown.”

  I start the car. “Just go, Konrad!”

  “The Leaky Lizards are playing in about an hour.”

  I tense, letting the car idle. “No, they’re not.”

  “Yeah, they are.”

  “If they were, I’d know about it.”

  “It’s a surprise performance.”

  For a couple of seconds, I don’t say a word. His voice carries a hint of mischief. I actually think he’s telling the truth. “You’re serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  Great. So now privileged little Konrad has access to information about my favorite band that even I don’t. “And you want to go now? With me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugs. “You like them, too, don’t you?”

  Understanding falls over me like a warm blanket. Oh, okay. I see what this is. Getting my pardon isn’t enough. Konrad needs to come out of this looking like a sexy Samaritan. “Guess what,” he’s going to say to his crew of popular friends later. “I took Camilla Hadi out to see her favorite band. Thanks to me, she was able to forget her miserable life—if only for a little while. See? I’m not a self-obsessed, life-ruining prick after all!”

  But the Leaky Lizards? Dammit. I’ve been listening to them since they were doing covers on YouTube.

  I could say no, but Konrad already gets to say he’s doing a good deed just for being here and inviting me. I might as well get something out of it. And I have yet to obtain any concrete evidence proving his evil nature. Besides, Aidan Duvall, the Lizards’ lead singer, would never forgive me if he knew I said no to an opportunity like this.

  “Fine,” I say, pressing myself against the steering wheel to peel out of my spot. “But you’re paying for the tickets.”

  “Already done.”

  For the next couple of minutes, we drive in silence. Konrad’s left knee keeps bobbing up and down. When he looks out the window on his side, I take the moment to stop my phone from recording since it’s pointless for now, then turn up the radio.

  “So what made you change your mind?” he asks after a while as I’m pulling onto the main street that will take us into the city.

  “About what?”

  “About talking to me.”

  This, I expected, so I came prepared with a nice sarcastic answer. “Because you’re so good-looking even I can’t resist you.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, right.”

  More minutes pass with neither of us saying a word. The pressure to fill the silence swells within me. “What happened to your face?” I ask.

  His hand flies to his bruise. He turns toward his window again. “Nothing. Just had a little too much to drink at Carrie’s party last night.”

  “You were at that party?” I blurt out, but realize it’s a stupid question as soon as I say it. Of course he was there.

  “Yeah,” he says. “It sucked.”

  Behind my huge sunglasses, I roll my eyes. Please. People had been talking about Carrie’s birthday party since school started. It’s the stuff of legends. He would’ve killed to be there before his ID—all of us lesser folk would’ve, even if we’d never admit it. Now he’s pretending to be too good for it? What an ass.

  “So,” he says after another wordless stretch. “What do you do for fun?”

  I know he doesn’t care. I know this is all an act. But it’ll be another twenty minutes before we get to the club. I have to be civil. “I run.”

  “Cool. What else?”

  I grind my teeth. “I don’t know. Hang out with Jodie and Ashley?” I feel a pang as soon as their names leave my lips.

  “And do what?” The boy just won’t quit.

  “A lot of things!”

  Konrad falls silent. Just when I think he finally got the hint, he opens his mouth again. “You don’t draw anymore, then?”

  I grip the steering wheel tighter. “What are you talking about?”

  “You used to draw in your notebook. In physics.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, you did. You used to draw faces.”

  My cheeks turn into wildfire. I did. But not faces, plural. Just one—Lance’s. Not even Jodie or Ashley know about those drawings. Why does Konrad? “I was just doodling,” I say, secretly praying my artistic skills were bad enough to make Lance unrecognizable.

  “Alan and I tried to make a comic book once,” Konrad says. “Only neither one of us can draw for shit. It was about this dude who could shape-shift, but only into a giraffe.”

  I snort—because I’m relieved we’re moving on from the topic of my unhealthy obsession with Lance, not because what Konrad said is kind of funny. Konrad doesn’t get to be both gorgeous and funny.

  I can feel his eyes on me. “It’s getting dark,” he says. “You sure you want to keep driving with those on?”

  “Why?” I ask. “Scared I’ll crash and ruin your precious face?”

  “No,” he says flatly. “Never mind.” He turns back to the window, and finally shuts up.

  As expected, finding parking downtown ends up being hell. We circle by the Well, the club where the Lizards are playing, four times before I spot a car pulling out. I turn my blinker on and stop, suddenly too aware of the city and all of its happenings around me. Parallel parking freaks me out. Especially on big streets and especially at night.

  “Want me to do it?” Konrad asks.

  “I got it.”

  But a minute later, when I’m backing into the spot, I’m too slow. My bumper connects
with the car behind me. I hit the brake and the car jerks. As my knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, Konrad laughs. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You barely grazed it.”

  I whip my head this way and that, looking for accusatory eyes. But I don’t see any. People stroll by on the sidewalk, unconcerned. I take a deep breath and straighten the car out. Satisfied, I kill the engine.

  Konrad’s snickering.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Nothing.”

  I yank out the keys and open the door. When I walk around the hood, I see the sidewalk sitting about a mile away from my tires.

  Whatever.

  A line of mostly college kids snakes away from the club’s entrance. Konrad takes a spot at the end and I stand behind him. Every girl who passes us—and every other guy—glances his way. The girls smile, the guys nod. I, on the other hand, draw as much attention as the red bricks that make up the wall we’re standing against.

  A part of me is grateful. With Konrad around, I’m practically invisible. But every glance he gets also chips away a shard from the statue of hate I’m making for him in my mind. Because somebody enlighten me: How is this fair?

  When he cranes his head to see down the line, I yank out my phone and snap a picture of the back of his head.

  He turns around. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

  “Pff, no,” I say, flustered. “I was taking a picture of the line.” I want to add that the world doesn’t revolve around him, but it clearly does. Finding Ashley in my contacts, I send her the photo without an explanation. She’ll know this is my peace offering.

  I wait for Konrad to seize the opportunity, to whip out his own phone, start a photo shoot, and immediately post the pictures online for everyone to see. To show the world what a great guy he is for hanging out with Camilla Hadi. But that doesn’t happen. It’s bound to, though, and at some point tonight, it will. And then I’ll finally have proof of his true intentions.

  After a couple of minutes of shuffling forward, the bouncer wiggles his finger at us. He checks our IDs and plants red UNDER 21 stamps on the outside of our left hands. We walk past him. Konrad leads the way and starts descending inside, but I stop at the top of the dark stairs. I think I know why the club’s called the Well now.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks from three steps below me.

  I hesitate, pushing my sunglasses farther up my nose. “Nothing.”

  “Here.”

  I look up from my feet. Konrad’s hand is extended in my direction. If he thinks I’d rather take it than tumble down these stairs to my death, he’s insane. “I can see just fine,” I lie, dismissing his self-serving excuse at being chivalrous. Clinging to the wall, I slowly make my way down to the entryway at the bottom.

  Preshow DJ music blasts through the dingy space. Bodies mill around me. Someone steps on my foot. After a struggle to get as close to the stage as possible—because the Leaky Lizards!—I give in and remove my sunglasses. The venue is dark anyway. I look around, expecting Konrad to be nearby, but he’s nowhere in sight.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I scan the area. I spot him by the bar, back by the entrance, talking to a pretty girl with a raven-colored bob.

  Aha! Finally, Konrad’s showing his true colors.

  Content, but also irritated for some reason, I face the stage and writhe free of my flannel. If I know anything, it’s that it’s only going to get hotter in here as the night goes on.

  “There you are.”

  I spin around. Konrad’s standing with two plastic cups in his hands. He pushes one toward me. “What is that?” I scream over the music.

  Konrad wiggles his eyebrows and leans in a bit. “Beer.”

  My gaze travels to the stamp on his hand. I can barely see it in this awful light but it’s definitely there. “How’d you get beer?”

  Shrugging, he looks at the floor. “Some girl bought it for us.”

  I stare at him, my lips twisted to the side. For us? Yeah, okay. I glance over to the bar. The bob girl sees me and smiles. I don’t smile back. I shake my head and give Konrad the cold shoulder. “I’m driving, remember?”

  “I thought you might say that,” he says, smugly. “That’s why yours is a Coke.”

  I snatch the cup and gulp half of it down, just because I want him to shut up.

  “Whoa,” he says, laughing. “Easy.”

  Stop talking to me, I think, just as the music cuts off. The silence is then replaced with shrieks and screams from the crowd. My heart skips a beat. The Leaky Lizards are about to go on.

  Konrad squawks a woo-hoo! into my ear and stands right beside me. There’s so much adrenaline pulsing through me, I don’t even mind. As throngs of people move in closer to the stage and the space fills with more bodies, Konrad’s elbow presses against my arm. I jerk away, annoyed at the tingle it causes, but forget about it as soon as the opening beat of “Disrupt You!” reverberates in my ears. The Leaky Lizards!

  The spotlight hits and the four band members come into full view. “AIDAN!” I yell at the stage. “I LOVE YOU!” I can’t help myself.

  “Disrupt You!” has a very danceable beat. It’s no surprise they chose it as the opening number. Before I know it, I completely lose myself in the music.

  For the duration of the song, I forget about everything else. There’s just me, the Leaky Lizards, and the fan-wide kinship in the air. My ID slips from my mind. I’m part of one entity, where the way you look doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is how you feel.

  When the Leaky Lizards transition to “We’re Never Gonna Disappear,” Konrad prods me with his elbow. I look up at his smiling face. Everything is so surreal and perfect, I smile back.

  It’s so weird. In the past, I’ve imagined losing my inhibitions at a Lizards concert, but it was always with a boy I liked. Not someone I despised. But, on a positive note, if I can still feel this good, this free, then maybe my life isn’t over after all. Maybe there’s still hope. And, heck, maybe even Konrad’s not as evil as I thought he was.

  Who knows? Right now, I don’t even care. Right now, I feel like anything is possible.

  By the middle of the fourth song, my bladder reminds me of the Coke I chugged earlier. Using my fingers to point because it’s too loud to talk, I let Konrad know I’m going to the ladies’ room. He gives me a smile and a thumbs-up and continues dancing.

  Since the band is in the middle of a performance, the line isn’t too bad. After I force the quickest pee of my life—I want to miss as little of the show as possible—I let the next person in. I hold the door so she can slip inside, but when I turn back, I realize Konrad’s girl with the raven bob has taken her place. This time, she’s not smiling.

  I’d rather just leave without acknowledging her, but one, I’m too nice, and two, she’s kind of right there in my face. “Um, hi,” I say to her. “Thanks for the drink earlier.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replies flatly, giving me the once-over. “So what’s a girl like you doing with a guy like that? You can’t possibly be related.”

  My polite smile falls. She may be older, but that doesn’t give her the right to talk to me like that. “We’re just friends,” I say, and add, because I can be spiteful, too, “With benefits.”

  The bitch guffaws in my face and I immediately realize what a stupid, unrealistic joke I made. “That’s funny,” she barks. After she calms down, her expression turns to stone. “But, seriously, are you paying him or something? Blackmailing him?”

  The temperature in my face skyrockets but, at the same time, something inside me cracks. For the life of me, I can’t summon up a good comeback. “No …”

  Bob Girl crosses her arms. “Huh. I guess he must be a saint then.”

  I stare at her. She’s not even worth it. And it’s not like her reaction is totally out of left field, either; I’d be wondering the same thing if I were in her shoes. Probably not out loud, because I have a soul, but I would be, nonetheless.

  Konrad, on the other hand, is wh
y she’s saying it. Why Ashley’s mad at me. Why my whole life exists squashed under a giant pile of shit now. I can’t believe that, for a moment there, by the stage, I actually thought he might be an okay person.

  The sting of tears ambushes me by surprise. I turn away. I don’t want this skank to think she’s made me upset.

  “Anyway,” she says. “Can you tell him I’m looking forward to hanging out?”

  Her words root me to the floor. I whirl back around. “I’m sure he is, too. And it might happen sooner than you think.”

  Not even caring if I’m pissing people off, I push my way through the swaying bodies. I get to the dark stairs and race up and up and up until the club spits me out onto the street and into lights of the city. Fumbling with my keys, I march toward the car.

  I know I’m crossing a line, going against everything Mom’s ever taught me about good manners, but I don’t care. I’ve reached my limit. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

  “What’s going on?”

  Spooked, I look up. Konrad’s panting a couple of feet away. I stare at him, stunned that he even noticed I left. I stab the key into the door. “I’m going.”

  His eyes are wide. “Are you … crying?”

  “NO! GO AWAY!”

  “No, seriously, Camilla. Are you okay?”

  My face throbs with frustration.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  You happened, I think and swing open the car door. But before I slip inside, I say, “I’m sure your new friend will give you a ride.”

  Once I’m in, I start maneuvering the car out of the spot. It takes a while, and I hate him for standing there, watching me do it. Why does he have to ruin my dramatic exit, too?

  But it doesn’t matter in the end. Because when I finally pull out, I press the gas pedal all the way and speed off in a cloud of fury.

  And boy does it feel good.

  CHAPTER 19

  KONRAD

  AFTER CAMILLA LEAVES ME STRANDED, I call Dad. He picks me up in his taxi when the concert is over.