Westcott High

by Sarah Mello

  Kyle nodded. “And you?” He turned his attention to Cliff. “Are you in love with her?”

  Cliff looked away, running his hand through his damp blond hair.

  “Tell me the truth, Cliff,” Kyle demanded.

  Cliff kicked the pavement with his sneaker. “You don’t want the truth, Ky.” He tilted his head up toward him. “You never have.”

  Kyle grabbed his hood and placed it back over his head. He stared into Cliff’s eyes, once again. This time, the history between them didn’t seem so unbreakable. “Here’s some truth for you.” Kyle took a few steps back. “I’m off the team.” He turned around and walked to his car.

  “Kyle,” I said, following closely behind him. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I wanted to tell you, but Lana made me promise I wouldn’t tell a soul! Winston didn’t even know!”

  He opened his car door and jumped inside.

  I stood in between him and the door. “Please talk to me.”

  “You know what, Sonny? Maybe you should worry about your own problems instead of getting involved in mine. You have two guys standing out there in the crowd somewhere, and they’re both waiting for you to pick one.”

  “And you have an incredible girl standing out there, waiting for you to pull her out of the friend zone.”

  He quickly pulled his hoodie further over his head. “Move, Sonny,” he whispered.

  “Please just give me time to fix this,” I pleaded.

  Kyle started his car. “It’s too late.”

  Time. The one thing we all take for granted. Sometimes, time is kind enough to be on our side. Other times, on its worst days, it speeds off without us.

  15

  Detours

  Where would we be without detours? I’m not sure I’ve ever taken one that didn’t end up being the better route. What are detours if not a better way to get to your destination? My mom once told me to look for the detours, because no matter the situation we face, there’s always a way around it. Sometimes in life, not even the wreckage ahead is powerful enough to stop us from getting to where we’re going. Sometimes.

  As I stared at my bedroom ceiling fan, my vaulted ceiling reminded me I was as small as I felt. I listened as the blades pushed through the air, making a squeak each time they came full circle. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, gliding down the sides of my cheeks and into my hairline. My eyelids wanted to shut, but my mind wanted to think. I thought of the basketball game earlier that evening, and the three guys I had hurt throughout the start of my junior year. I thought of how insane it was that Cliff Reynolds had become my ally, and how sad it was that Kyle felt he had none.

  I put my hands on top of my chest and exhaled, rolling over to grab my buzzing phone. My eyes narrowed as I checked the text. I jumped out of bed and opened my curtains to see Jacob’s Jeep parked in my dad’s driveway.

  In no time at all, I was outside, walking toward him with intention. Jacob was leaning against the front of his car, wearing basketball shorts and a T-shirt.

  I stood in front of him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I gave him a blank stare, knowing my eyes were swollen and my mascara was running down my cheeks. “Do I look okay?”

  “Always,” he replied.

  The street light next to the driveway provided just enough light for us to see the outlines of each other’s bodies.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.

  “Sonny, it sucked to hear you say you like Dean. But I would never not be nice to you.” He rolled his neck from side to side. “I bounce back quickly. Two hundred thirty-six scars, remember?”

  I dropped my head, letting out the tiniest of smiles. “Look, Jacob, I never expected Dean to break up with Norah so quickly after you and I started talking. And when he did—I don’t know—he just expected things to go back to normal.”

  “And did they?” he asked.

  I wiped my face and tucked my hair behind my ears, trying to become a tad more presentable. “It was as if he never left.”

  Jacob nodded.

  “But you came along,” I said. “And you made me feel important. I never expected to like you, Jacob.” I paused. “You’re the new guy, for God’s sake. No one likes the new guy.”

  He smiled.

  “But I won’t ask you to wait for me while I figure out my feelings for Dean.”

  “You don’t have to,” he replied.

  “Friends?” I asked, holding out my fist.

  Jacob grabbed my crunched-up fingers and slowly pulled me toward him. I fell into his chest, my hands resting on the hood of his car. Through his cotton T-shirt, I could hear his heartbeat, and I was certain he could feel mine. “Friends,” he said, his hands warming my lower back. Then, gently, he pushed me back and wiped underneath my eyes with his thumbs.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Sure,” he replied. “But I, um, I really came here to talk to you about something else.”

  I stood up straight. “Okay . . .”

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

  “I figured as much,” I said.

  Jacob chewed on his bottom lip, seemingly struggling with what to say next. “Claire was the first girl I loved, Sonny. And I haven’t even thought of another girl since she died. But when I met you, I realized pretty quickly I could fall for you. And I got scared if I did, you’d fall for me too.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Jacob replied. “You shouldn’t like me, Sonny. You can’t like me.”

  “How come?” I gave him a confused look.

  “I’m just . . . I’m not . . .”

  I poked my head toward him. “You’re what?”

  Jacob exhaled. “Look, I told you I liked Norah so you wouldn’t like me.”

  “So you did lie?”

  “Yes, but—"

  “Why Norah?” I asked.

  “I picked her at random,” he replied. “I never saw her at Dustin’s party. I saw her the first day of school. It was an added bonus when I found out who she really was—Dean’s girlfriend.”

  “Added bonus?” My eyes widened. “Wow. You really didn’t want me to like you.”

  “No . . . I did . . . I just . . .”

  “I don't understand,” I said. “Why shouldn’t I like you? Why couldn’t you like me?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. I—”

  Suddenly, we heard the sound of a car engine zooming down my street. Cliff’s black Mercedes pulled onto the curb; his tires came to a grinding halt. He jumped out of the car and walked toward me. Jacob straightened and stood in between us.

  “Sonny,” Cliff said, quickly walking up the driveway. “Are you not getting my texts? We need to go.”

  “Go where?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  “I’m not just going to hop in a car with you,” I said. “Tell me where we’re going.”

  “Would you just get in the damn car?”

  “I’m wearing an incredibly wrinkled shirt. I can’t go anywhere.”

  “It’s never stopped you before,” Cliff said.

  I tilted my head toward him. “Seriously?”

  “Here,” Jacob said, reaching into the back seat of his car. “Take my hoodie.”

  He placed it in my hands as its appeasing scent rushed into my nose.

  I tossed Jacob’s hoodie over my head and quickly pulled it down.

  “Thanks,” I said to Jacob as he stared at me. “I guess I have to go.” I threw my hair up into a ponytail. “See you later?”

  Cliff walked back to his car, and I followed.

  “Sonny!” Jacob yelled, still standing in the driveway.

  I turned back around. “Yes?”

  He took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “Sometimes you have to look beyond the colors to see someone for who they really are.” He widened his stance. “Not everything is as it seems, you know?” He shook his head, droppi
ng it to his chest. “Even when it all seems black . . . there’s always more just beyond it.”

  I paused, staring into his eyes with confusion.

  “You know?” he repeated.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Cliff lay on his horn, and I jumped in surprise.

  I looked toward the Mercedes, and then back at Jacob. “I have to go.”

  “Then go,” he replied.

  “But what did you mean by—”

  Cliff honked again.

  “Just go.” Jacob jumped into his Jeep. “You’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled under my breath as I slowly broke eye contact with him. I then turned toward Cliff’s sedan. I jumped inside and buckled my seat belt, the new car smell greeting me at the door. “What’s going on?” I asked, trying not to touch anything.

  “I could ask you the same question,” he replied, slamming on the gas pedal.

  My body slid back on his tan leather seats. The car was dark, but the dashboard was bright.

  “Your dad never let me come over to see Lana at this hour,” Cliff said.

  “That’s because he didn’t trust your intentions,” I replied.

  He plugged his cell phone into his charger. “Smart man.”

  “Where are we going, Cliff?” I sat facing forward.

  “You’ll find out.”

  “I’d rather you tell me.”

  Cliff picked up an unlabeled bottle and took a swig. “That’s because you’re a control freak.”

  “Are you seriously drinking a beer?” I asked him.

  He placed the bottle back into his sparkling-clean cup holder. “See. Control freak.”

  I crossed my arms and glared at him, shifting my body a little to the left.

  “It’s ginger beer,” he said.

  The more I got to know Cliff, the more he surprised me. “Well, it smells disgusting.”

  He sped through a yellow light; the pull of his engine was intense. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on his lap. His confidence was almost attractive, if he were anyone but Cliff.

  “This is bringing me back to date nights with Lana,” he said. “She complained, and I paid for dinner. Then I dropped her off and got no action because Coach Dirk was lurking from the window.” He flipped his turn signal on. “I really miss those days.”

  “I know you’re intending to come across as sarcastic,” I said. “But we all know you’re not over Lana. Or Ari, as it seems.”

  “Why do you take such an interest in my love life, kid?”

  “I don’t know. Something about watching a train wreck is too fascinating to turn away from.”

  “You aren’t so good at love yourself,” he said. “If you were, you wouldn’t be wasting your time with Harrison when you really love Dean.”

  I glanced over at Cliff as he bit his fingernails.

  “Why don’t you worry about your own love triangle?” I replied. “You’re in quite the mess yourself.”

  “Thanks to you.” Cliff bit off a piece of his fingernail and spit it out of the window.

  “No, Cliff. You’re the one who hooked up with Ari behind Kyle’s back. Regardless of who liked her first, it was still wrong. You should have just told Kyle that you were struggling.”

  “Maybe I should have, when I saw how quickly everything took a turn,” he replied. “Their relationship was shit and I started to regret my decision.”

  “Well, I guess a bad relationship is what you get when one of the involved parties isn’t truly into it,” I said.

  Cliff sighed loudly, pushing away from the steering wheel while sitting back in his seat. “Ari was in love with him, Sonny. She just hated she couldn’t have me. I don’t know why she told Ky she wasn’t, but believe me—she was.” He paused. “Just wait until he starts dating Langdon. You’ll see Ari’s love come out swinging then.”

  “Ari.” I slowly shook my head. “That girl sucks at love.”

  Cliff rolled up to a stoplight. “Name one teenager who doesn’t.”

  I stared out the front windshield, the impact of his statement running true through my veins. “So what stopped you from coming clean?”

  “I started dating your sister,” he said. “Nothing mattered after her.”

  “Did you cheat on Lana with Ari?”

  Cliff took a sip of his ginger beer. “No. I would never cheat on her.” He placed the bottle back down into the cup holder. “How is she anyways?”

  I glanced over at him; his straight face stared ahead. “She’s happy.”

  Cliff tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sniffed, shifting in his seat. I watched as he pretended to not be bothered by my statement, but I could tell it was no easy task. After all, the only thing harder than allowing yourself to care is pretending that you don’t.

  I looked away. “Now that Lana’s gone, do you want Ari back?”

  “Look, I don’t want anything, okay? The only thing that matters to me now is fixing things with Ky.” The light turned green, and Cliff slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. “And making sure he doesn’t leave the team.”

  The back of my head hit the headrest. “What do two star-athlete Violets see in a girl like Ari Ziegler?” I asked. “I’ve always wondered that. I mean, she’s not only a Cobalt, which no one would ever assume you’d go for, but she’s a black-wearing, tattoo-having, vaping singer with an attitude.” I paused. “Lana, I get. But Ari? What is it about her?”

  Cliff cracked his knuckles against the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s because she’s everything I’m not supposed to be with,” he said. “You learn to appreciate having choices like that when you’re nothing but a machine to your parents.”

  “So you like her because your parents wouldn’t approve?” I asked.

  “No,” he replied. “Because she made me feel like I didn’t need their approval. That’s hard to find.”

  We sat in silence for the next few minutes, neither of us saying a word. Eventually, it became brutally obvious where we were headed.

  “Cliff,” I said. “Why are we turning into the school?”

  He sped down the long street and turned into parking lot C.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “Norah asked me to bring you.” Cliff parked and unbuckled his seat belt. “Get out.”

  “Norah?” I looked over toward her car. “Since when do you listen to Norah?”

  He opened his door and stepped outside. “Would you get out?”

  I watched him walk around the front of the car, the parking-lot lights shining down on his face.

  “Carter! Get out of the car!” he shouted.

  “Oh my God!” I tossed my hands over my ears at the sound of Winston thrusting himself against my window.

  I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the car door. “What are you doing?!” I shouted.

  Winston tried catching his breath. “I’ve been kidnapped!”

  “I’d hardly call that an abduction.” Norah slowly walked toward us from her car, her heels pointy enough to poke an eye out. “You rode shotgun with AC blasting and full control over the radio.”

  I nodded. “Not partial?”

  “What do you think?” Buckets asked as he appeared from the backseat.

  Casey followed.

  “He ate my Skittles too,” Ari said, walking up behind her. “While I sat in the back.” She glared at Winston.

  “This is not a joke! She forced me into her car.” Winston put his hand over his heart. “She wouldn’t tell me where we were going!”

  “You’re fine, Winston.” I rolled my eyes at his hysterics.

  “Can someone tell me why we’re in parking lot C on a Saturday night?” Cliff asked.

  I looked at Cliff as he and Ari made awkward eye contact.

  “It’s the only place safe enough for all of us to meet,” Norah said. “No one is here.”

  Just then, Piper’s car slowly pulled into the empty lot. She parked beside Norah’s car and stepp
ed out of the driver’s seat.

  Norah tugged down on her peach-colored blazer. “Before you go and turn anyone in . . . I think it’s time you know the truth.”

  Perhaps the only barriers strong enough to stop us from getting to our destination are the people who never wanted us to get there.

  16

  friendship

  Friendship—that light yet heavy relationship that can slip through our fingers at any given point in time. The thing we all want. The thing we need. The relationship between two people who are appointed to one another—to take care of each other throughout life. Where would we be without it? Who would we be? And if one person stops caring, what would it be?

  “The truth?” I asked Norah, rolling up my sleeves. “What is Piper doing here? You said you wouldn’t rat.”

  “And I didn’t,” she replied. “Piper came to me.”

  The eight of us stood underneath the moon. The crickets chirping in the grass below gave melody to the evening’s unlikely event, and the circle in which we stood was one soul shy of feeling complete.

  “Shouldn’t Kyle be here for this?” Casey asked. “If the truth is coming out, he deserves to be around to hear it.”

  “Maybe you should call him,” Cliff said. “I think you’re the only call he’ll take.”

  “Doubt it,” Winston mumbled.

  I gave him a nudge to the stomach.

  “I agree.” Buckets pulled his brown beanie down on the back of his head. “Someone should call Kyle.”

  “I tried,” Norah said. “He wasn’t home when I drove by, and his phone is off.”

  “What about JC?” Casey asked.

  “No.” Piper stepped forward. “Nobody is calling anyone.”

  “What’s the matter, Piper? Can’t face him?” Winston tilted his head.

  “You do know we already know the truth, Clemmons,” Buckets said. “We’re not interested in listening to you tell us that JC stole the answer key. That’s horse shit, and you know it.”

  “Let the girl speak,” Cliff said. “I’d like to get home.”

  Piper clutched her pearl necklace as if her life depended on it; she twisted the white balls around with her fingers. “Principal Winchester approached me sophomore year as I was walking to my car one day. He asked me if I’d be willing to do him a favor.”