Now, more than ever, I realized how truly alone I still was. Dakota and Sydney had been best friends their entire lives, and I only became a part of their world last year. They would always stick together, choosing each other over me, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was number three on the totem pole. Obviously, whenever Dakota was mad at me, Sydney would naturally follow suit, and vice versa. I felt my own face heat up. I moved ahead, eager to get to my next class.
Next was Childhood Development, and unlike the normal rows of desks in the other classrooms, this room consisted of four chunky tables surrounded by chairs. There were only a few other students in the room, so I picked an empty table, slumping down and tossing my backpack on top of the table in front of me.
It was only day one of sophomore year, and I was already prepared to call it a day. Unfortunately, the day’s end was nowhere near, considering the fact that I still had half a day ahead of me and afterschool tryouts.
I wondered how it would be on the squad this year if I wasn’t friends with Dakota or Sydney. Sure, we’d all get over this insignificant little squabble but what about the rest of the year? If we were already fighting on the first day, then I wasn’t sure how well the rest of the year would go. Other students were filing inside, filling up chairs at the tables. Just when I thought I might luck out and get my table all to myself, the chair beside me screeched painfully and a handsome, shaggy-haired boy squeezed in the seat right next to me. With so many other seats around, did he really have to choose the one directly beside me? I wondered, feeling annoyed. But then he glanced at me. Smiled softly. My foul mood disappeared completely.
His skin was the color of honey-covered toast. “Hi,” he said simply, and then turned toward the elderly, frumpy teacher who’d just stepped inside. It was obvious to me now that he had sat down so close because he wanted to be near me. Perhaps I wasn’t going to be so lonely this year after all!
***
Forty-five minutes later, I was sliding my folders into my backpack when he finally said more than one word to me. I could feel him standing there beside me, staring at me expectantly. “Hey, I’m Jordan.” His voice was quiet, but confident.
I swung my backpack over my shoulders and smiled up at him, feeling uncharacteristically shy. He seemed taller standing up, and even more attractive than my peripheral vision had let on.
“Amanda Loxx.” I stood there, wringing my hands together awkwardly. For a moment, a silence ensued between us, and I cleared my throat to relieve it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. Are you new here?” I was trying to sound polite, but I really wanted to know—something about him made me curious. He certainly looked too tall and mature to be a freshman.
“I’m not a freshman, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, reading my thoughts exactly. “I’m actually a junior. My last school in Crimson County didn’t offer any courses in child development, so I’m taking this as an elective. My mom is always saying that if I knew how difficult it was to raise a baby, then maybe I’d think twice about having so many girlfriends. Did you know that we get to carry one of those plastic babies that whine and cry all the time?”
I was too stuck on the fact that he said he was from Crimson County to pay attention to the rest of his words. “Did you say you were from Crimson?” I cut off his rant about artificial infants.
“Yeah, I was supposed to attend high school in Hawaii this year, hanging out on the beach…talk about a bummer, eh?”
“Wait. Did you say Hawaii?” I asked incredulously. This was all sounding vaguely familiar.
The rest of the students had emptied out of the room, and grumpy Mrs. Brooch was staring at us blankly from her desk, tapping her pencil rudely. “Get to your next class, please,” she grumbled. We giggled and headed for the door.
“You see, the weird thing is…I met this new girl today who was also supposed to move to Hawaii—” Based on the knowing smile that spread across his face, Jordan already knew who I was talking about.
“So, you met my sister then,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Your sister?” I asked disbelievingly. He nodded, trotting down the hallway beside me. I noticed small herds of girlish faces, staring at Jordan as though he were eye candy. I moved a few inches closer to him, turning up my nose in their direction.
“It’s cool that you’ve already made friends with my sister. Since you guys are already friends, maybe we can hang out more too,” he suggested hopefully.
“That sounds really…wonderful,” I murmured dreamily, sticking right by his side.
“Speaking of my sister, we’re supposed to meet up for lunch. You want to hang out with us?” Just as the question left his lips, I saw Sydney and Dakota up ahead, making a beeline for the back of the lunch line. I let out a groan.
Dakota was going to be so pissed at me if she saw me hanging out with Winter at lunch. I hated to risk losing her friendship forever. But as I looked over at this tall, handsome stranger, I couldn’t help myself. “I would absolutely love to,” I said, sticking out my chin flirtatiously.
Chapter Five
The lunch room was filled with my classmates’ chatter and sounds of heavy, plastic trays sliding across the Formica counters of the lunch tables. There were nearly twenty tables with windows on each side, and I was sitting in a seat near the back, hiding from Sydney and Dakota. The truth is that I felt terrible for avoiding them, especially after my spat with Dakota in Brit Lit this morning, but here I was anyway—sitting with my two new friends, Winter and Jordan Addams.
Winter was still recovering from the shock that her brother and I had hit it off right after she and I became friends. As I shoved bland tasting spaghetti noodles into my mouth from my lunch tray, I stared at the two siblings. They didn’t look anything alike. Winter was fair-skinned with that white-blonde hair and she stood out like a sore thumb, especially next to her brother, who was sporting a dark tan and even darker shaggy locks. She must dye her hair, I realized foolishly.
I, for one, have never dyed my hair. Not because I’m above it, but because I’ve never had anyone to help me do it. When your dad dies tragically and your mom is off doping somewhere, you don’t really have many adults to help with everyday things, like hair care.
Winter and Jordan were discussing their class schedules amongst themselves, and to be honest, I was feeling a little left out. Despite their differences in physical appearance, their mannerisms were similar and they seemed to get along perfectly. I felt another slight twinge of jealousy—I’d always dreamt of having a sibling.
“So, did you used to date Andy McGraw?” I blurted out of the blue. Winter’s spaghetti-covered fork froze in mid-air.
“How did you know that?” she asked.
“Dakota Densford is my best friend. She recognized you this morning in Brit Lit, and she told me you were Andy’s ex. Apparently, you met Dakota last year when she caught the two of you kissing.” I said it fast, a hint of a question in my voice.
“Well, for your information, Andy and Dakota were not actually dating yet when we hooked up. His dad and my dad were friends in the Army, and we’ve known each other since we were toddlers. That day, when I went to see Andy, it was because I’d just learned my dad was going to be stationed in Hawaii. I wanted to tell him goodbye.” Winter seemed stiff, nervous.
“Dakota and Andy are pretty serious now.” I gave her a warning glance.
“I’m not interested in dating Andy anymore.” Winter sniffed, turning back to poking her food. Jordan was quiet, looking back and forth between us.
“So, in other news,” he said, drawing out his words to get our attention, “I’m going to talk to Coach Purnell after school today about possibly joining the basketball team.”
“That’s great, Jordan!” Winter squealed. “He’s such a good basketball player,” she said to me, smiling proudly at her brother. “Since we didn’t know we were going to be students here over the summer, he didn’t have the opportunity to try out. But he was the b
est player on the team in Crimson County,” she further explained. I nodded understandably.
“Yeah, basketball tryouts are always in the summer. But cheerleading tryouts are on the first day of school. Today.” I glanced up at the cafeteria clock, remembering for the first time since this morning. “If you make the team, you might get to see me. I was on the squad last year, so I should be able to nail a spot again this year.” I winked at Jordan and he smiled right back.
Winter let out an excited whoop, wriggling around in her seat happily. “I’m trying out too!” She clapped her hands together. “We can be besties, and cheer buddies!” she exclaimed, grinning wildly.
“Dakota’s on the squad too,” I said, mostly talking to myself.
How was this going to work? If my best friend and new friend were arch-nemeses, and I was caught in the middle, then this couldn’t bode well for me.
That’s ridiculous, I thought instantly. We’re not in third grade; we’re sophomores now, for goodness sake! I shouldn’t have to pick sides. But that’s when I saw Dakota and Sydney glaring at me from across the lunchroom. You’d think I’d killed someone by the dirty looks they were sending. I suddenly realized that just because I didn’t have to pick sides, didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to make me…
Chapter Six
My last classes of the day were a series of blurred events; my garbled attempts at reciting the French alphabet, my loathing of all things that have to do with line segments, rays, and types of angles, and my favorite—please note my sarcasm here—the effects of European colonization on the States.
By the time the final bell rang, bringing its usual relief to all students alike, I felt sleepy and irritable. Not to mention the fact that the entire school felt like one huge sweatbox, my paper-thin t-shirt stuck to my chest as I made my way from my locker to the gym for tryouts.
I should have been more exuberant about the upcoming season and the tryouts that lay ahead, but I was dreading a run-in with Dakota and Sydney, and also my new friend, Winter. I was walking against the foot traffic, students scampering down the hallways, headed out to either their own personal vehicles or to catch the bus. But I was headed for the gym.
Students brushed past me rudely, their heavy backpacks banging against my outer thighs painfully. Since it was day number one of the school year, everyone was wearing the best of their new school gear. I saw lots of skinny jeans, flashy leggings, and every color of Uggs you could imagine.
At my old school, we had to wear these wooly, school-marmish uniforms. At least at Harrow High, we have options when it comes to school dress, I reminded myself. There was a code, of course; there always is. But for the most part, Principal Barlow was pretty easygoing when it came to enforcing the dress code rules. And speaking of Principal Barlow, her daughter was standing at the outer edges of the gym entrance, smiling at me brightly.
Brittani Barlow is a total fruitcake—and that’s putting it lightly. She’s an overachiever when it comes to everything related to academics or sports, but she also has about as much emotional intelligence as a pet rock. Last year, no one was surprised when she made the team. Not only was she Principal’s Barlow’s daughter, but she was also a damn good cheerleader. However, it was her personality that cost her a spot on the team because she got caught purposefully dropping other cheerleaders in stunts just to lower the field of competitors. After her removal from the team last year, I was a little taken aback by her presence near the gym ten minutes before tryouts.
“Hey, Amanda!” Brittani squealed, walking straight toward me. She clutched me in an awkward embrace before I had a chance to pull away.
“Hi,” I answered unsurely, making it sound more like a question than a greeting. “I’m not trying to be rude, but what are you doing at tryouts, Brittani?”
The smile on her face didn’t flicker or fade. “Oh, well…I’m trying out again this year. The principal gave me permission to try again, as long as I’m on my best behavior!” She flashed that wooden smile of hers.
“The principal? You mean your mother?” I asked bitterly. Brittani let out a creepy bubble of laughter, and said, “Well, of course I’m talking about my mother. I don’t see any other principals around here, do you?” She giggled.
“I don’t have time for this.” I pushed past her, heading through the heavy, metal doors to the gym. I was surprised to see a group of boys stretching in the center of the basketball court. My eyes were immediately drawn to where Jordan stood, bent at the waist stretching his hamstrings and calves. I guess he’s going to be practicing with the team today after all, I thought, smiling in spite of myself. I knew how badly he wanted to play basketball, and I had to admit to myself that I wanted to see him play this year too.
Mostly, I want to see him in those shorts and sleeveless jersey…
As I passed the boys on my way to the locker room, he looked up at me, smiling widely. I gave him a small wave and couldn’t stop myself from grinning. I’d had a few boyfriends in the past, and I’d even had a short-lived fling with one of the basketball players last year, a douche bag named Ronnie…but I’d never felt this girlish or giddy over a boy before, and I sort of liked the fluttering feeling.
Finally breaking eye contact with him, I entered the locker room to dress in my athletic tights and top. The outfit fit snugly over my chest, rear, and hips, and I felt sexy in it. I dabbed on a little pale lipstick—although I knew Coach Davis would find it unnecessary—and I headed to one of the back stalls to blot my lips on toilet paper. I’ll have to remember to get down here early every day. It’s kind of nice having the locker room all to myself.
I could hear the door behind me swing open, other cheerleading hopefuls pouring in. I reached through the half open stall door, grabbing for the toilet paper roll, but then I froze. There was someone inside the stall already, slumped at an awkward angle over the toilet.
I jumped back, then peeked back in, shaking my head from side to side. Sounds of screaming ripped through my eardrums.
It took me a moment to realize it was the shrill sound of my own voice.
Other girls rushed to my side, including Dakota and Sydney.
Someone kicked the stall door all the way open, and we all stared in horror at the girl inside. She was clearly dead, her eyes lifeless, her skin a sullen gray. I didn’t want to look but at the same time, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her face. Well, mainly, her nose—or lack of a nose, I should say.
Even in death she looked beautiful. The dead girl was Genevieve McDermott.
Chapter Seven
The next hour passed like a blur. There were screams and shuffling, all of the basketball players and cheerleading hopefuls corralled into a small advanced theatre classroom.
It was hard to believe there were really this many of us.
We were shoulder to shoulder, struggling to see over each other’s heads and hear what Principal Barlow was saying.
The police had been called. Harrow High was on lockdown and all of the students remaining at the school were stuck there until the police deemed it safe to go home. Our parents had been called. Unless she called our name, we were ordered to take our usual route home.
I’d lost Dakota and Sydney in the crowd, but now Jordan was standing next to me.
He rubbed my shoulders from behind, hunching his own, as he was nearly a foot taller than me. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. He asked me something, but my mind was somewhere else.
In that locker room…that stall. Genevieve’s limp body propped up on the toilet seat. Her skin waxy and dull.
Her butchered face…
I shuddered, my shoulders quivering. Jordan turned me around, pressing me against his own chest. He smelled like aftershave, cologne, and heaven all mixed into one gorgeous scent.
He stroked my hair, staring down into my face. I willed myself not to cry.
“It’s okay, Amanda. It’s going to be okay. It will all be over soon. The police just want to make sure whoever did this isn’t still i
nside the school, and then we can go.”
Unless whoever did this is right here…in this room somewhere, I wanted to say.
“Thank you,” I managed to whisper. My voice was hoarse, an after effect of screaming for a half hour straight.
“Detective Simms wants to talk to you.” It was Mr. Church, one of the algebra teachers who hadn’t made it out of the building before Genevieve’s body was found.
“Me? Why me?”
“Because you found her.” He tried to smile, an attempt to reassure me. It did nothing to relieve the big ball of anxiety contracting in my abdomen.
Jordan squeezed my arm and nodded. He’s so cute, I thought, noticing a dimple on his right cheek for the first time. Hard to believe I could think about liking him, or anyone, at a time like this.
Detective Simms was waiting for me, and I followed him out of the room, avoiding the glares of my fellow classmates. Surely no one suspected it was me who hurt Genevieve…
But then I thought about last year…all of the fliers hanging up around school—pictures of my father’s mugshot and me. Like father, like daughter?—those were the words printed on the flier.
Detective Simms motioned for me to take a seat in an empty classroom. I recognized it as my Biology class from last year.
I sighed. “I don’t know what happened to Genevieve. I went into a stall to get a piece of toilet paper to blot my lips, and that’s when I found her…dead.”
Detective Simms took a seat at the desk next to me.
He stared at me, silently. “I just talked to Dakota and Sydney. Why didn’t you guys tell me you were still getting harassing phone calls this summer?”
Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2) Page 2
