Freaks of Greenfield High

by Anderson, Maree

  Now—too late—he understood that by keeping it all locked away inside him, all he’d done was enable Shawn and Vanessa, and alienate most of his peers.

  Greenfield High’s current social structure was based around cliques. Sad and unimaginative, but true. And because Tyler had been one of Shawn’s crew—and a major douche-bag to any kid who wasn’t one of Shawn’s crew—when he fell from grace, it was one monumentally big-ass fall. He became a freak, a jock-god accused of something so heinous not even the jocks had been able to stomach him anymore. Everyone had their place. Everyone knew their place. And after that one incident, Tyler’s place was at the very bottom of Greenfield High’s social order.

  At first it’d felt weird being invisible, but he’d gotten used to it. Plus-side, he didn’t need to check in with anyone. He could do what the hell he liked. Downside was he didn’t have anyone to watch his back. And at this school, life was tough if you didn’t have someone on your side.

  He didn’t want to drag his sister down with him so he made himself scarce rather than put Caro in a position where she might have to choose her brother over popularity. She had enough problems looking out for herself. It was no box of chocolates being on the cheer squad and keeping the likes of Bettina happy, while not losing who you were, and what you stood for. Caro somehow managed to walk that ultra-thin line of being popular, while not succumbing to the temptation of being a stuck-up bitch. He respected that about her. He’d never managed to walk that line. It’s been easier to treat people like crap.

  Pity Caro’s run of luck might soon be over. And, just like him, she wouldn’t fit in with any of the other existing cliques. Mind you, knowing Caro, she’d just form her own. Budget Fashionistas. Yeah. He could see it now.

  Over lunch breaks Tyler usually hung out in the music room. Mr. Whaley didn’t have a problem so long as no one else had scheduled use of the room for practice. On the rare occasions Tyler did venture into the cafeteria, he sat way down the back, far removed from the food cabinets and even farther removed from what little natural light pierced the grime-layered windows. It was smart to avoid the prime tables—especially ones with an unbroken view of the lunch queue, from where Shawn would cast his eye over potential girlfriends, and Bettina’s squad would loudly critique clothes and makeup, hairstyles and personal attributes, with such consummate viciousness they reduced less resilient girls to tears.

  Today, Tyler dared the cafeteria, dared to be noticed, and worse, dared slide into a seat at a prime empty table, right up front. He tried to appear completely unconcerned. He seriously debated leaving Jay and Caro to it—they would manage fine without him—but he didn’t want to miss the fun. Unfortunately for his rapidly waning daring, his sister and Jay were nowhere to be seen.

  Kids balancing trays of food lurched past his table, nudging each other and whispering. Eyes slanted in his direction. Heads turned. Whispered words floated in the air. Tyler began to feel like someone had painted a huge target on his back. His spine prickled with unease as he rummaged in his backpack for his packed lunch—yet another reason for the in-crowd to sneer at him.

  A hush smothered the cafeteria. Then the elegant squeaks of designer shoes were echoed by the screeches of less desirable rip-offs.

  Crap. He knew without even glancing up that Shawn and Bettina and their entourage had just made an entrance.

  “C’mon Jay!” he muttered. “Where the hell are you?” To hide his agitation, he grabbed a library book from his bag, took a sip from his water bottle, and pretended to read.

  A furtive reek of anticipation overpowered even the stink of burgers, fries, lasagna and other supposedly mouthwatering temptations. All the students seemed to be collectively holding their breaths, waiting for Tyler’s juicy humiliation to commence.

  The type on the page he was pretending to read blurred. He flicked the page over, and hunched his shoulders against whatever form retribution would take. A soda down the back of his neck. Having his lunch snatched from the table and tossed ’round the room. Maybe his bag upended and the contents sniggered over. No problem. He could handle that.

  But perhaps Bettina would come up with something new and original for Shawn to do this time—something that would cause Tyler’s control to snap and provoke him to retaliate, like he’d almost done in Bio. Then it’d all be on. He could just see himself wiping that smug look from Shawn’s face….

  Tyler clenched his fists as tight as he could and then relaxed his hands and shook out the tension in his shoulders. It was far too late to dust off the past and rehash it. No one would believe him anyway. Not now.

  Whoops of familiar laughter were music to his ears. The girls’ baseball team had arrived en masse. They were their own clique and none of them took crap from anyone. Except maybe their coach. And only so long as whatever Tyler happened to be saying made sense to them.

  “Catch!” he heard one of his team yell.

  He glanced up just in time to see Emma, his star pitcher, burst through Bettina and Shawn’s tight-knit group, scattering kids like skittles. She ignored their squawking protests, her eyes on the prize. She leaped, plucked the baseball from the air, and then flung herself into the chair next to Tyler.

  “Gee, sorry, Betty,” she called, shooting a hugely insincere smile at Bettina, who stood stock-still and open-mouthed while her group fluttered about her, smoothing their ruffled plumage and exchanging varying expressions of disgust and indignation. “Didn’t see you there.”

  She nudged Tyler in the ribs with her elbow. “Nearly got her,” she said, eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. “An inch more to the left and I’d have knocked her down and used her for a cushion—not that she’d make much of a cushion ’cause she’s, like, such a bone-bag.”

  Emma spared a glance for the rest of her teammates, who’d all joined the food line. With a gusty sigh, she took out her lunch, pried open her sandwich and grimaced. “Bologna. My favorite. I’m telling you, Coach, when I get a scholarship to some fancy university, I’m never gonna bring a packed lunch again. I swear on my mom’s maintenance money.”

  Tyler took a bite of his own sandwich and wondered what it would be like to have money to burn, like Shawn. Maybe if his dad had stuck around and his mom wasn’t in a dead-end job—

  “Hey, how come you scored a front table? Are you like, not feeling well or something?”

  “I just felt like a change,” Tyler said.

  Emma snorted. “About freaking time. We’d sit with you more often if you got us a decent table.”

  “Thanks, Em.”

  She gave him a singularly sweet, sympathetic smile—one that told him she knew exactly why he usually hid down the back. “You know, that sister of yours might look like a top model candidate, but she has skills. We could sure do with her on the team.”

  Caro had helped out with practice a couple of times when Tyler had been down with the flu. She’d even subbed when the team had been short a girl. All the girls in the team liked her, and she really knew how to keep them focused. Em was right. Caro would be an asset.

  “We’ve been through this,” he said. “Caro’s too tied up with the cheer squad. She turned me down flat when I asked.”

  Emma smiled at him around her sandwich. “Well, maybe you should ask her again. Because if Shawn has his way, Bettina’ll dump her from the squad and she’ll have heaps more time up her oh-so-fashionable sleeve.”

  “Crap,” Tyler muttered. “Does Caro know about this?”

  “What do you think?” Emma half-rose from her chair, waving to catch someone’s attention.

  Tyler’s breath caught as he spotted the familiar figure poised in the entranceway beside his sister. His face heated. He sucked down a few glugs of water to try and cool his face, wondering how merely gazing at Jay had the power to affect him so drastically.

  To his surprise, Caro acknowledged Bettina with a curt nod, but ignored the rest of B’s group, including Vanessa. Leaving Jay to join the cafeteria queue, she took the seat across from E
mma.

  Tyler studied his sister’s tense, angry face. “Slumming, huh?”

  “The air’s not so putrid over here.”

  “Ah. You gave Shawn the good news, huh? Guessing he didn’t take it well.”

  Caro unpacked her sandwich and took such a vicious bite that Tyler winced. When she’d finished chewing she said, “Jerk tried to make out like it was my fault he was horn-dogging around. Like, if I put out, he wouldn’t feel the need to get his thrills elsewhere.”

  “Dick,” Emma said. “And speaking of dicks, hope his shrivels up and drops off.”

  Caro gave her a wan smile. “Thanks, Em.”

  Tyler reached across the table to squeeze his sister’s wrist. “I’m sorry, sis.”

  “Don’t be. I always knew Shawn was an ass. Maybe I thought I could change him. Or maybe I didn’t know what the heck I was thinking. To add to my pain there’s Nessa. So much for being my best friend and having my back. The minute I dumped him, she stepped in to ‘console’ him. She’s been all over him like a rash today. It’s enough to put me off food for life.”

  Tyler tossed his own sandwich aside. Vanessa and Shawn? Jeez. What was the girl thinking? “Doesn’t he know she’s the one who uploaded the clip of him Dumpster diving?”

  Caro snorted. “Yeah. He knows. But evidently she talked him ’round. Or something.”

  Heavy emphasis on the “or something”. Caro obviously figured Vanessa was putting out to keep Shawn happy, but Tyler knew there were other things Vanessa could give Shawn to keep him on-side.

  “Matt’s pretty annoyed about being dumped,” Caro said.

  Since Tyler had been in Matt’s place, he knew “pretty annoyed” was putting it mildly. “What about your place on the squad?” he asked his sister. “There’ve been, ah, some rumors—”

  “With regionals so close, Bettina knows she can’t afford to drop me from the squad. And the squad means everything to her. So if it comes down to keeping me happy, or keeping her step-brother happy, guess who she’ll choose?” Caro smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Darn,” Emma said. “I was kinda hoping you’d get kicked off the squad so you could come and play for us.”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet,” Caro said. “Sorry Em. It’s those uniforms of yours. I wouldn’t be seen dead in one. Truly hideous.”

  Emma shrugged. “Bet some of the guys would beg to differ. Pity. Guess we’ll just have to pin our hopes on some new blood.”

  Sara, the team’s catcher, and the rest of the girls started grabbing seats at the table. “Sorry.” Tyler dumped his bag on the seat next to him. “I’m saving this seat for someone.”

  “Someone named Jay, I’ll bet,” Caro said. “And speaking of Jay, I bet she’s got awesome ball skills.”

  “Jay?” Sara said. “Isn’t that the chick who dumped Vanessa on her ass yesterday?”

  Emma smirked, obviously relishing the memory of Vanessa’s humiliation. “Yep. That’d be her. The girl with the long hair, holey jeans, and screamingly red t-shirt, waiting in the queue.”

  Sara nodded her approval. “She’s cool.”

  “Yanno?” Emma gnawed a fingernail as she gave Jay a once-over.“She’s got a style all her own. Bet you’re itching to make her over, right Caro?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  Emma huffed on her non-existent nails and pretended to polish them on her t-shirt. “Seriously. Don’t muck with perfection, sweetie.”

  Caro eyed Emma’s outfit of baggy jeans and a sloppy, fire-engine-red t-shirt, and wisely took another bite of her sandwich. Tyler bit his lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his sister’s face.

  A buzz drew his attention. He glanced up, took it all in, and quickly dropped his gaze again. Vanessa’s gloss-slicked lips were downturned. She and Shawn were deep in whispered conversation, casting dagger-like glances in his direction.

  “Ah crap,” he muttered, watching as Vanessa stroked Shawn’s arm, and then left him to approach Tyler’s table. “Here comes trouble.”

  “AKA the skanky ho,” Caro said, loud enough for Emma to hear and whoop with laughter.

  “Well, if it isn’t Greenfield High’s ex-Boy Wonder,” Vanessa said, fixing Tyler with a saccharine sweet, insincere smile. “I have no idea how you managed to sabotage my upload, but it’ll be a wasted effort when I send the clip that’s still on my phone to Principal Harris.”

  It seemed to have escaped Vanessa that Jay’s stunt was far more of a conversation-starter than watching him take on Shawn.

  Vanessa was out to get him—no two ways about it. Ironic considering if he spilled the truth about Homecoming, it’d start a shit-storm… with her taking center stage. God only knew what her reasoning was. It didn’t make any sense. Tyler gave her his widest grin. “Gee, Vanessa. You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble just for me. I might end up owing you a favor. Or something.”

  Her eyes narrowed and loathing twisted her pretty face. “In your dreams!” she spat.

  “Nightmares more like,” Caro said, glaring at her former BFF until Vanessa flushed and fiddled with the hem of her short-shorts.

  “Hey, Nessa,” Emma interrupted with a toothy grin.

  Uh oh. Tyler knew what that grin heralded. Em had a way with words that was legend amongst her teammates. Vanessa was about to be on the receiving end. This was gonna be ugly.

  “I’ve been dying to know. Are you a skanky ho twenty-four-seven? Or only when there’s a penis you feel the need to impress hanging round?”

  Vanessa opened her mouth as if to reply, frowned, then abruptly turned her back and flounced back to her friends.

  “Ouch! That’s gotta hurt. Nice one, girlfriend!” Caro high-fived Emma.

  Tyler’s gaze followed Vanessa’s swaying rear.

  He waited for the ache of pure yearning to course down his spine. He used to think Vanessa was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Even after she’d dumped him for Matt, he’d still thought her model-worthy gorgeous. But today she just wasn’t doing it for him. Compared to Jay, she just seemed brittle and spoiled and….

  Bland.

  Bettina and Shawn’s peeps were all twittering about their oh-so-important little lives—nothing unusual there. But for once, Vanessa seemed apart and separate from them, as though she’d cocooned herself in her own little world. All her flashy, “look at me!” arrogance had drained away. Her eyes were downcast. She’d wrapped her arms around her middle. She looked entirely miserable, like she was doing her utmost not to burst into tears. When Bettina prodded her for a response, she lifted her head and caught Tyler staring at her. She flipped him the finger and turned her back, linking her arm in Shawn’s and cuddling up to him.

  He laughed but there was no joy in it. More fool him for sticking out his neck and trying to protect her. He should have spoken out and left her to deal.

  He spotted Jay approaching and moved his bag, indicating she should take the seat he’d saved. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Vanessa. She never fails to live down to my expectations.” He glugged the last of his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You set?”

  Jay patted the pocket of her jeans. “Yes.”

  “Outstanding.” And seeing a measure of his own glee glinting in her eyes, he grinned. “Hey, guys,” he said to his team. “Y’all know Jay?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel, the team’s relief pitcher chimed in. “We all know Jay. She’s the one who dropped Vanessa on her chubby ass, and introduced Shawn to the inside of a Dumpster.”

  Caro choked on a mouthful of water. “Looks like your reputation has preceded you, Jay.”

  “Apparently so,” Jay said. “I trust that’s a positive thing.”

  Rachel grinned at her. “Oh yeah. Very positive.”

  Em caught Jay’s eye. “Wouldn’t mind a word with you later. I have a favor to ask.”

  Jay nodded. “Of course.” She picked up her burger, took a huge bite, and wrinkled her nose.

>   “Whassup?” Tyler asked. “Does it taste off?”

  “I don’t believe I care for the taste of pickle,” she said, sounding awfully surprised by the fact. She fished the pickle out and inspected it. “It doesn’t look particularly appetizing, either.”

  He couldn’t help laughing at her. She sounded like a little kid, disgruntled at being made to eat her vegetables. “Just as well you don’t have to eat it, then.”

  He was distracted from Jay’s amusing pickle issues when Matt wandered over to their table. What the hell did he want?

  Matt snagged an empty chair from the next table and loomed over Caro, waiting patiently until she took the hint and inched over to give him some room. He grinned at her as he popped the tab on his soda. “Hey, babe. Whassup?”