Troy High

by Shana Norris

  Something in Greg’s eyes changed as he looked at me. His expression clouded over and the muscles in his forearms tightened.

  Lucas looked as if he wanted to punch someone, and he probably would have, except that a shrill whistle suddenly sounded around us. I clasped my hands over my ears as Coach Wellens pushed himself in front of the fence, between the two guys. Ms. Holloway stood behind him along with some other teachers.

  “What is going on here?” Coach Wellens asked, looking first at the Spartans and then at the Trojans.

  Hunter’s eyes were still on Lucas, but he stepped back and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Nothing, Coach. Just having a little chat.”

  “How about you all save it for the field,” Coach Wellens said. “Tonight’s game is over. That means get off the school grounds and go home. If I hear there’s been fighting, here or anywhere else, I will bench anyone involved for the rest of the season.” He turned toward Lucas. “And don’t think I can’t have you Spartans benched as well. Coach Whittingham happens to be an old college buddy of mine.”

  No one moved. Lucas and Perry continued to stare at each other, as if silently daring the other to make the first move.

  “Are you all hard of hearing?” Coach Wellens roared, spit flying from his mouth as he spoke. “I said it’s time to go home. Now!”

  The cheerleaders were the first to scurry away, followed by everyone else.

  Ackley looked back at Hunter. “See you on the field, Prince,” he growled.

  I looked at Greg. He looked away. And followed his brother toward the parking lot.

  THE TREES LOOKED LIKE GHOSTS.

  At least, that was my first thought as my brothers’ car rumbled down the road toward Troy High on Monday morning. The trees that stood outside on the front lawn were white and billowed in the morning breeze.

  As the car drew closer, I saw that the billowy white was toilet paper. Long streamers of toilet paper hung from the branches and waved in the wind.

  The trees weren’t the only things that had been attacked by the toilet paper. The stone Trojan and his horse were now mummies, toilet paper streamers had been raised up the flagpole, and the maintenance workers were already gathering up the toilet paper that had been thrown across the front steps.

  “Ugh,” I said when I climbed out of the car. I pressed the back of my hand against my nose. “What is that smell?”

  “Eggs,” said Elena as she, Kelsey, and Mallory joined us. “There are eggs all over the front door and windows.”

  “Who did this?” Perry asked.

  “Who do you think?” Kelsey said.

  Something clicked in my head. “You don’t think someone from Lacede did this?”

  “Who else would do it?” Mallory snapped.

  “How about any of the other schools we play against? Or maybe even someone who goes to Troy?”

  “No,” Hunter said in a low, even voice, “this was a Spartan attack.”

  Students were gathering around us, murmuring about their anger toward the Spartans. The rest of the football team had made their way to the front of the crowd, closest to Hunter, looking to him as if waiting for his command.

  “What are we going to do?” Paul Baker asked.

  “It’s just a stupid prank,” I said. “Can’t we just forget it and worry about beating Lacede on the football field instead?”

  My suggestion was met with loud disagreement.

  “It’s too late for that, Cassie,” Hunter told me. “The Spartans have started a war. We can’t back down without looking like the weaker team.”

  “Right,” another football player agreed, pumping his fist into the air. His eyes shone, eager to get revenge. “We’ll take down those Spartans and show them just who they’re dealing with.”

  The rest of the students cheered, looking toward the football players as if they were gods. Perry, who had been standing with his arm slung around Elena and nuzzling her neck while Hunter talked, now stood straight and tall, basking in the attention from the other students.

  “It’s just a stupid rivalry,” I muttered.

  “Stupid or not,” Perry said, “those Spartans won’t get away with defacing our school.”

  Troy High buzzed with energy as everyone shouted about getting revenge.

  “We will take those Spartans down,” Hunter vowed.

  The boys around him cheered, pumping their fists and grunting like apes. The girls clapped and bounced up and down, smiling wide.

  Elena seemed at ease in the middle of this Spartan bashing. You wouldn’t believe that she had ever set foot in Lacede High from the way she cheered right along with the Trojans.

  “We are so going to get them,” Elena said. “They’ll regret messing with us.”

  “Are you forgetting you used to be a Spartan?” I asked.

  Elena rolled her eyes. “I go to Troy now. I have to be loyal to my new school. I would think you’d be on our side too, since your brothers are leading this battle.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realize this was a battle. I thought it was just two schools playing dumb pranks on each other. Should I get out my armor and prepare for war?”

  “You’re such a brat, Cassie,” Elena told me.

  Immediately, I felt sorry for what I’d said. I hated the thought of Elena being annoyed with me.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m a brat sometimes. Just ask my brothers.”

  A small smile twitched at the corners of Elena’s mouth.

  “I just wish our schools didn’t have to hate each other so much,” I said. “What is the point of this rivalry anyway? I mean, it’s not like we have a choice about which school we attend. You should know that well enough.”

  “It’s just a fun thing,” Elena said. “It’s called school spirit. You should try getting some every once in a while.”

  “Uses too much energy,” I said.

  “Hey, honey,” Mom greeted me as she looked up from her laptop, which sat open on the kitchen table. “Have fun at school?”

  “A blast,” I said, pulling the refrigerator open and grabbing a bottle of Snapple. “Walked through rotten eggs, planned an attack on an enemy school, you know, the usual.”

  Mom looked up from her work. “What’s this about an attack?”

  I took a long drink of my Snapple. “Nothing,” I said. I didn’t want to explain about Lucas and Elena and Perry. I was tired of thinking about it and just wanted to forget it for a while. “I’m just kidding. My day was the typical American high school day. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  I kissed Mom’s cheek and headed toward my room. I closed my door and picked up my phone.

  “Hello?” Greg said when he answered the phone.

  “Hey,” I greeted him. “Seen any good sales on toilet paper lately?”

  Greg waited a second too long before saying, “What?”

  “Someone toilet-papered and egged Troy High last night,” I told him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  Greg made a grunting noise. “Why should I?”

  I settled back on my bed. “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought maybe Lucas had decided to get back at Perry and Elena by defacing our school. It sounds like something he’d do, you know?”

  “Just because Lucas does something doesn’t mean I’m involved.”

  “Were you involved?”

  “You’re so annoying sometimes, Cassie,” Greg said, his voice tight.

  “Just answer the question. Yes or no?”

  “No, I wasn’t involved!” Greg exclaimed. “Are you happy now?”

  “A little,” I said, “but I have one more question. Did you know about it?”

  Greg was quiet for several moments. “It was just a prank.”

  “So you knew.”

  “And you knew Elena was going to dump Lucas.”

  We were both quiet for a long time, listening to each other breathing over the phone line.

  “Are you done accusing
me or is there something else you want to lay on me?”

  I sighed. “Could you just ask Lucas not to do anything else? Some of the kids at Troy are talking about getting revenge.”

  “What are they planning?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I hope they won’t go through with it, whatever it is, but I’m afraid Lucas may have made things worse between our schools. Just ask him to stop.”

  “I can’t promise that he’ll listen to me.”

  “I know, but try. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up the phone and slumped back into my pillows. I’d known Lucas long enough to think this was only the beginning.

  TROY GOT THEIR REVENGE THREE DAYS LATER.

  I didn’t see it, but I heard about it as soon as I arrived at the courtyard outside the gym Thursday morning.

  “On the front of the school?” I heard Kelsey ask Mallory.

  “All the way across the front,” Mallory answered, nodding.

  I looked to Elena for some clue as to what they were talking about, but she and Perry were busy cuddling and exchanging saliva.

  “Serves them right, for starting the war,” Kelsey said.

  I raised an eyebrow at Hunter. “What did I miss?”

  Perry heard me and broke away from Elena long enough to raise his fists in the air and shout, “Troy rules!”

  “And Lacede drools, I know,” I finished. “You could come up with something better than elementary school chants, you know.”

  “Oh, really?” Perry asked. “Hunter, show her.”

  Hunter reached into his pocket and produced some photographs. I took the photos, gasping as I looked through them.

  “You spray-painted Lacede?” I asked, my voice rising in pitch.

  The crowd sitting around the courtyard laughed as I stared down at the pictures of Lacede High, which featured the word LOSER painted in giant red letters over where it used it say LACEDE across the front of the school.

  “Now everyone will know that the Spartans are nothing but losers,” said Paul Baker, another football player.

  I glared at Paul. “Lacede may have toilet-papered and egged our school, but they didn’t spray-paint it. Do you realize how much it’ll cost to clean this off?”

  Paul pretended to wipe away a tear. “Oh, boo-hoo. Like I care.”

  “Lacede started this, Cassie,” Hunter told me. “If your friend Lucas had been a man and left our school alone, we would never have had to deface his. If you’re looking for someone to blame, look at your Spartan friends.”

  “Lucas is not my friend.” I shoved the pictures back into Hunter’s hand.

  “You could have fooled us,” Mallory said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You seemed to be pretty friendly with the Spartans at the game last Saturday. And we know you were at the Lacede game the night before.”

  “I’m friends with Lucas’s brother,” I said. “Is there a law against that?”

  “You might want to reconsider who you’re seen with these days, Cassie,” Hunter told me. “I don’t want someone getting the wrong idea and thinking you’re a traitor to your school.”

  I heaved a long sigh. “Can we please grow up and forget this rivalry?”

  Hunter shook his head, his expression serious. “Sorry, but things are already in motion. We can’t back down now.”

  “It’s over now,” Elena told me a week after Troy got revenge on Lacede. “Lacede attacked us, we attacked them, now we’re even.”

  I hoped she was right. I hadn’t heard a word from Greg. I had started to e-mail him several times, but I always deleted my half-finished e-mails without sending them. It wasn’t that I worried about the other Trojans getting mad at me for talking to a Spartan, it was just that things were changing between us and I didn’t know how to talk to him anymore. Kissing Greg was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. Everything started to unravel after that happened.

  But then another part of me was glad I had kissed him. This same part of me wanted to run over to his house every afternoon and kiss him again and again. It was obviously the insanely masochistic side of me that hadn’t been hurt enough by Greg’s lack of enthusiasm for our first kiss.

  I was tempted to beat my head against the wall just to try to get rid of the thoughts of him.

  I sat down at my usual table during lunch that afternoon. Kelsey was out sick, so it was just Elena, Mallory, and me.

  “This spaghetti looks disgusting,” Mallory said, picking up the rubbery noodles with her fork.

  I looked down at my own spaghetti. It really didn’t look appetizing—watery sauce with a few shriveled meatballs—but I was starving. I’d slept late and hadn’t been able to eat breakfast before school.

  I shoved a huge forkful of spaghetti into my mouth.

  “Ugh,” Elena said as she watched me. She took dainty bites of her spaghetti.

  Mallory made a face, but she cut up her noodles and ate the spaghetti also.

  “Have you guys bought homecoming dresses yet?” Mallory asked. The homecoming game was still more than a month away, with the big dance in the school gym later that night.

  Elena’s eyes lit up. “Not yet. I’m still trying to decide on a color.”

  “I have a black dress with a jeweled neckline,” Mallory said. “It needs to be hemmed a bit though.”

  “What about you?” Elena asked me.

  I swallowed my mouthful of noodles. “Me? I don’t go to dances.”

  The two girls stared at me as if I’d said I still believed in Santa Claus.

  “This is not just a dance,” Elena told me. “This is homecoming. You have to go.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t dance and I don’t get dressed up.”

  “You don’t have to dance,” Mallory said. “You just have to be there. Everyone is going.”

  “Everyone?” I asked, twirling my spaghetti around with my fork. “I doubt that. There has to be at least one other loser around here who would rather not spend their Friday night at school.”

  “It’s not school when you’re attending a dance,” Elena informed me. “You’re going to homecoming. If you don’t want to buy a dress, I have one you can borrow.”

  Elena had to be at least four inches taller than me. Even if by some miracle our waists were the same size, any dress of hers would make me look like a little kid dressing up in her mother’s clothes.

  “Thank you, but no. I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are,” said Elena. She squeezed my arm. “It’ll be fun. Trust me.”

  Half an hour later, during my history class, my stomach gave a sudden rumble. I pressed my hand to my abdomen, feeling a little queasy.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Across the room, Keenan Willoughby raised his hand and said, “Mr. Tompkins? May I be excused?”

  Mr. Tompkins stopped in the middle of his lecture on the Constitutional Congress and looked at Keenan. “You’ll have to wait until the end of class.”

  Keenan bounced in his seat. “I don’t think I can wait that long, sir.”

  A few seats behind him, Georgette Lipinski raised her hand. “I have to go too, Mr. Tompkins. It’s an emergency.” She sat slumped forward in her seat, clutching her stomach.

  A few other kids raised their hands, asking to be excused.

  And then I knew why they needed to be excused so suddenly. My stomach rumbled again and I realized I needed to get to a bathroom right away.

  I raised my hand, joining the others pleading for Mr. Tompkins to let them out of class. Mr. Tompkins stared at us, his expression going between doubt to confusion. I knew it looked strange to him, that half of his class suddenly needed to use the bathroom at the same time, but I didn’t think I could wait any longer.

  Keenan definitely couldn’t. He jumped up from his seat and ran to the door, pulling it open and dashing into the hall.

  “Keenan, get back in here!” Mr. Tompkins exclaimed.

  Now that Keenan had acted, the rest of us didn’t waste time either. We trip
ped over backpacks in our haste to get out.

  In the hall, other classrooms were open as well, with students running out and teachers calling after them to come back. I saw a few teachers also running with us, everyone clutching their stomachs and moving as fast as their legs would carry them, trying to get to a bathroom stall before they were all taken.

  I felt better but not fully back to normal that night when Elena insisted I go out to the Ice Cream Factory with her and a bunch of other kids from school. Of course, Perry and Hunter were going, so I rode with them, squished into the back of their car between Elena and Mallory.

  The Ice Cream Factory was pretty busy. So busy that we didn’t notice the crowd in blue letterman jackets that had walked in the door until the whispers reached our table.

  Several members of the Spartan football team stood just inside the restaurant, with Lucas and Ackley in the front. On the edge of the group stood Greg. His eyes met mine briefly before he looked away.

  Perry was the first of our group to stand. “What have we here?” he asked, giving a sly grin. “Lost Spartans? Need a hand finding your way back home?”

  Lucas stepped forward, his fists clenched. “Need a hand rearranging your face?”

  Perry’s grin faltered a bit.

  “Are you going to let him talk to you like that?” Hunter asked our brother, pushing him in the small of his back toward Lucas. Hunter had been even grumpier than usual all afternoon, a side effect of the stomach problems, I assumed.

  Perry laughed. “I wouldn’t want to injure him right in the middle of football season,” he said. “Who else is better to lead Loser High’s team to defeat?”

  Behind Lucas, Owen looked tense and ready to pounce. Greg stood silent and still, watching the scene with a scowl on his face. Ackley had his usual glare directed at Hunter, and at his side his best friend, Patrick, snickered in my brother’s direction.

  “Besides,” Perry said, “this isn’t the place to fight. Let’s leave it to the field.”

  “Let’s do it right now,” Patrick said, stepping toward Hunter.

  Hunter stood from his seat to stare down at Patrick, but Ackley stepped forward so that he was eye to eye with Hunter. Neither of them moved, their bodies tensed.