by Judi Calhoun
I ran the brush across my lips, staring into the small mirror that Gabby had conveniently hung inside my locker. I hated the frown lines that cut into my forehead. The more I kept thinking, the more I frowned. Ugh!
I was thinking of my Superhero encounter. Did I really fight demons with one of the cutest guys at Jefferson? Did Jake Hannaford really hold my hand and tell me I should sit at his table? I shook my head. It all seemed like some surreal, phantasmagorical dream.
“Shonna,” said a smooth male voice. Even before I glanced in the mirror, I knew it was Jake. I gulped hard and smiled before turning. “How’d you find my locker?”
He pointed down the hall to a group of girls chatting, all gazing at me with curious amusement. Gabby stood in the middle, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow and mouthing at me, “We'll talk later,” before heading off. Later really meant being unpleasantly interrogated by my best friend during third period History.
I knew she would be thinking that Jake and I were hooking up. I could not deal with that, not while Jake was standing right here in front of me, making my heart flutter.
“I wanted to remind you about our lunch date.”
Date!
“Look, I...umm...I can’t ditch Gabby,” I said. “Do you mind if I bring her with…?”
His eyes narrowed, “She’s not one of us...right?”
I nervously played with the zipper pull on my hoody. “She’s not a Slayer.”
He seemed to process this for what felt like an eternity. I heard giggling and noticed a group of senior girls, whispering and point at us…at me.
Jake smiled. “That’s okay, bring her...I’ll see you both at lunch. Later.”
I walked toward my classroom door, my head still turned, watching Jake disappear into the rush of students, pleased that he had agreed to include Gabby. I didn’t notice the door was open. When I turned around I slammed right into it; hitting my head, feeling my books fall from my arms and land in a pile at my feet.
The senior girls burst out laughing as my homework skidded across the floor. I scrambled-red-faced, to retrieve my books and papers, trying to rescue my cool, and pretending it was perfectly fine despite the blinding headache.
To most of these gossip girls, I was just another wannabe trying to hit on Jake. They had no clue what creatures watched them from the shadows, waiting to strike. If any of them caught sight of the hideous demons I chopped to pieces, they would pee their pants. So, yeah, why wouldn’t I want to join Jake and his Slayer friends, Nate and David Cross for lunch? The thought of finally belonging to a group gave me new hope. I smiled as I picked up my last book and placed it on top of the pile.
Now I couldn’t wait for lunch, in spite of the fact that Gabby would freak at the idea of sitting through a lunch period with the only guy in the entire school that teases her…Nate Cross.
In History class, I slipped into my seat next to Gabby. She was wearing her skinny black jeans and pale blue sweater, which perfectly matched her blue Chucks.
“So... Jake, huh?” she asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrow, like she always does when she thinks I am lying. “Jake. Jake Hannaford, and he is so hot, by the way, wants to know where my best friend’s locker is... soooo what’s up with that? This is epic. Tell me everything!”
“He wants me to meet him at lunch.”
“You’ve got to go! He is so into you! I can tell.”
“It’s not what you think,” I whispered, trying to keep Mrs. Gilbert, who was passing out papers, from overhearing. “He wants me to sit with him and his friends at lunch.”
I watched her expression shift in confusion.
“He said you can come too...if you like,” I added. “I really want you to, please Gabby, please?”
“Is this like a permanent thing?”
“It sounds like it.” I whispered.
Gabby waited for Mrs. Gilbert to return to the front, before leaning again. “Does he hang out with that creepy Nate Cross?”
Here it comes!
“Yes. He does,” I said.
“I hate him,” she slid down in her seat, pouting. “He calls me Bleater!”
Her hatred stemmed from more than just name-calling. Like last summer for instance, when Gabby and the girls from Drama class went skinny-dipping in the lake. Nate jacked her clothes, only hers. They could find only a hand towel in the car. Apparently, the entire boys baseball team watched her run from the lake to the car. Not cool. She called me on her cell, all hysterical. I drove to the lake to bring her clothes. She never forgot how Nate had humiliated her. I don’t think she ever will.
I tried to make light of everything, telling her that Nate calls everyone, “Bleater.”
“Not you,” she quickly pointed out.
She was right. Now I knew why. They were Slayers, like me. And that stupid name was reserved for all non-Slayer types. Still, it didn’t make it right and it did not explain why he picked on Gabby.
“You really want me to hang out with them...don't you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Figures!” She said. “You owe me for this...big time!”
Forty-five minutes later, we entered the noisy cafeteria. Jake motioned for us to join him. He was sitting with the Cross brothers at a table along the windowless wall. Nate Cross, a thin beanpole with dark brown hair and slits for eyes, was laughing hilariously at something his brother, David had said. David Cross was a slightly shorter version of his brother only his hair had blond highlights and he reminded me of a surfer.
I went through the line, not really paying any attention to my food choices, because my heart was racing like a thoroughbred at the thought of sitting with Jake. I tried to snap out of it, but it was hopeless. I walked swiftly toward their table, Gabby following a step behind.
Jake, always playing the part, moved over to make room. I slipped in between him and David feeling elated. He wants me next to him. Yes!
Gabby stood with her tray behind David, clearing her throat, getting louder until he stood up and moved rather unenthusiastically. I caught David rolling his eyes at Nate. That was Nate’s cue to start.
“Man,” he said, holding his nose, “Something reeks.” He gave his brother a nudge, “Smells bad like lost sheep... bleaters.”
Jake shot him a warning glance. “Seriously Nate? Shut-up!”
“Dude,” He faked an innocent look. “I said something smells funny.”
“No Bro,” David corrected, “you said, you smell something bad.”
“Baaaaddd!” Nate brayed, laughing hysterically and snorting like a pig.
Gabby’s eyes narrowed as she leaned across the table towards Nate. “Like you’re so special ... right?”
“I’m no Bleater!” he snapped.
I begged Gabby with my eyes, please try to be nice!
“He started it!”
“Nate’s got a big mouth!” said Jake. “He doesn’t know when to shut up.”
Nate wasn’t even the slightest bit annoyed by Jake’s anger. He was still smiling as he leaned to whisper into David’s ear.
“Yeah, come on, Bro... be sweet,” David’s lips mocked a kiss. They continued to punch each other and blow kisses.
It felt like I was suddenly back in the fifth grade. These were the demon killers, I wanted to lunch with? Exactly what did Jake see in these clowns? He was the only reason I even considered staying in my seat and enduring this madness.
My body was immensely aware of his closeness and even the slightest movement like his thigh resting snugly against mine, or his arm brushing my shoulder, sent small electrical charges into my head, destroying forever that part of my brain that used any conventional wisdom.
A chair squealed across the old linoleum floor, pulling me out of my romantic fog. Gabby had stood up, her eyes murderously blazing at Nate. She held her tray like she was considering it as a weapon, but instead she started to leave. “We’ll talk later,” she said to me. Tossing her food in the
trash, she stormed off.
I suddenly felt nauseous with guilt. Had I so callously fed my best friend to these unscrupulous dogs?
By the time, I got home and plugged, my dead phone into the charger I had five text messages from Gabby. I didn’t have to read all of them, just the last one.
How could U invite me 2 that freak show? I want 2 hurt Nate. I want 2 roll over his Mercedes, crush it… destroy it with a big Abrams tank. Call me!
* * *
Chapter 4
