It seemed the attractive brunette was becoming more vicious by the day. It was almost like she was the thinner, prettier, smarter female version of Jeremy.
Jeremy, as it turned out, was also in second period history. Rory didn’t discover this until partway through the semester because he skipped most of his classes with alarming frequency…maybe that explained why he was so unbelievably dumb. But, when he was warned that he’d be kicked off the football team if that behaviour continued, he reluctantly began showing up.
Rory wasn’t sure what difference it made because it wasn’t like Jeremy was learning anything from the class anyway. He usually spent the whole time bullying Troy, who sat up front, straight as a board and white as a sheet, looking like he wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. Rory felt for him.
This particular Thursday, however, Jeremy seemed to be bored with making Troy squirm. Instead he was focused on Monica, who he’d rather obviously been infatuated with for quite some time. Despite having a reputation as the school bike (nearly everyone had had a ride), she’d rejected all of his advances, most likely because Jeremy was obnoxious and crude and had a bad habit of forgetting to put deodorant on.
Rory didn’t know exactly how it all started – she’d been busy creeping on photos of Carson she found online to follow what was happening around her. Her eyes had been glued to her phone and her mind had been elsewhere.
Her best guess was that Jeremy had farted, perhaps as a misguided attempt to get Monica’s attention or maybe just because he was a total pig. He seemed surprised when Monica, who sat behind him, was completely repulsed and called him disgusting. Instead of realizing that yes, he was disgusting, he took offence.
That’s when things got ugly.
“I’m disgusting?” Jeremy repeated incredulously in a loud whisper everyone within four feet could hear, causing Rory to glance up from her phone. “At least I haven’t slept with half the school.”
A hushed silence fell over the classroom…well, aside from Mr. Fanning’s oblivious lecturing, that is. Students set down their pens and phones, quit rustling papers, stopped whispering amongst themselves and turned to stare.
Jeremy had committed the number one cardinal sin of high school: calling a Popular Girl a slut. The unspoken rule was that it just wasn’t done – not even if it was true. One especially didn’t call a girl out on her rumoured indiscretions in front of an entire classroom full of peers. Jeremy, of course, was too dumb to realize this.
Monica immediately unleashed her wrath on him.
“That’s not true!” Monica screeched indignantly, her voice shrill and sharp. Rory raised an eyebrow. While technically Monica surely hadn’t slept with half the school, she did have somewhat of a reputation. Said reputation probably crossed Monica’s mind right then, because she apparently decided it would be more effective to fight fire with fire rather than defend her virtue. “At least I didn’t make out with Grace Myers behind the bleachers last week!”
No sooner than Monica had said the words, a look of horror crossed her face and she spun around. It was obvious that she’d just remembered that Grace Myers was, in fact, in second period history. Sure enough, there Grace sat quietly at the back of the classroom looking mortified beyond belief as the entire class turned around to stare at her.
Rory cringed. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“I, uh...” Monica searched for the right words but it seemed she couldn’t come up with anything better than some flustered stuttering. Her face was white as a sheet. Rory could tell she felt bad about insulting Grace in front of the whole class – and she should.
In Rory’s opinion, Grace wasn’t so bad. She was quiet and plain and unremarkable. Maybe she was a bit of a wallflower. But that in and of itself wasn’t a sin. Grace’s only fault, really, was that she had played tonsil hockey with big stupid Jeremy…if it was even true.
Truth was a minor detail when it came to the high school gossip mill. Why let it get in the way of a good story? Even if Grace had made out with Jeremy – and that was a big if – Rory was positive that it had been a misguided attempt at fitting in with the popular crowd. It had to be, because it was the only explanation that made sense.
The eyes of every student were glued to Grace. She tried to smile and shrug Monica’s thoughtless comment off, but even from across the room, Rory could see that her lower lip was quivering. Rory almost felt like crying herself, so intense was her embarrassment for the mousey-haired girl.
To make matter worse, Jeremy guffawed and declared, “She’s ugly. I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole! And I do have a ten foot pole, by the way. Get it? Ha! I made a dick joke!”
Grace surveyed her surroundings, her eyes wild and panicked like those of a trapped animal, desperate for a way to escape to safety. Then she abruptly jumped to her feet, knocking her hardcover textbook, doodle-covered notebook and pen to the floor.
Without a second glance, she stepped over them and bolted from the classroom, slamming the door behind her.
There was a pause in Mr. Fanning’s droning lecture. He opened one eye and, squinting, peered around the classroom. “Pay attention!” he barked in his trademark gruff, inappropriately loud voice, running a calloused hand through his unruly mop of snow white hair.
“Now where was I?” he mumbled to himself, annoyed at having his concentration broken. With that, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and resumed his monotonous recollection of some guy who fought in some war at some point in history.
Rory had an uncomfortable notion that there just might be a war brewing at Belleview High, too.
* * * * *
For Grace’s sake, Rory had hoped that the disaster in second period would blow over as the day wore on. That wasn’t the case. The second the bell rang signalling the end of history class, the entire room was abuzz with excited whispers and snarky giggles.
“Why would anyone want to make out with Jeremy Beal?” Rory overheard one of the drama freaks wondering aloud. “That Grace chick must be desperate if she did try to make a move.”
“Or maybe there’s something wrong with her,” the drama freak’s gothed out friend replied. “Maybe no one else wants her. She’s not that ugly but maybe she has like...I don’t know, deformed boobs or bacne or something.”
“Bacne?”
“Yeah, it’s like acne only on your back. I saw pictures online one time. It’s nasty.”
Rory sighed and shot the pair a disapproving look. This was how rumours got started. Pretty soon all kinds of untrue stories would be spreading through Belleview High like wildfire…of that, she was sure. She knew how it worked. After all, she’d been responsible for starting a rumour or two of her own in the past.
The first time had been unintentional. She and her friends had been speculating as to where the algebra teacher went every day when he slipped out of class. Rory, ever the hopeless romantic, had suggested that maybe he was sneaking away to call his girlfriend. Maybe he couldn’t get through the day without hearing her voice, Rory had reasoned. That would be kind of sweet, actually.
But somehow her innocent suggestion had turned into a rumour that the algebra teacher abandoned his class, locked himself in the janitor’s closet and called phone sex lines on a daily basis. Rory still felt a twinge of guilt when she remembered that she had, in a roundabout way, been partially responsible for the creation of such a scandalous rumour.
The second time Rory had spread a rumour hadn’t been an accident. Shortly after she’d started high school, it seemed she’d caught the eye of one of the seniors, Matt Pike. He’d asked her out, but, apprehensive, Rory had turned him down. It hadn’t helped that he’d stared at her chest for the duration of their conversation.
Rory had wanted to demand to know who he was asking out - her or her boobs. But since he was older and semi-popular, she hadn’t dared. Instead, she’d made some lame excuse about not wanting to date anyone right then.
He hadn’t taken it well. In fact
, he’d started harassing her after that. Every time he saw her in the hallway he’d make vulgar gestures or yell demeaning things. It was as close to being bullied as Rory had ever come and she didn’t like the way it felt one bit. So, Rory had started a rumour that he had a micropenis. It had spread like wildfire.
Mike had left her alone after that. Truth be told, the claim was what had propelled Rory to popularity. It turned out that Hilary had dated him briefly and, after things had gone sour, she wanted nothing more than to see him humiliated in front of the entire school.
That was one rumour Rory didn’t regret starting.
“Rory!” Monica grabbed her arm on the way out of the classroom and pulled her aside. “I feel so bad. I don’t know why I even said that about Grace...I didn’t mean it. What should I do? Everyone’s talking about her and it’s my fault.”
Rory shrugged. “Maybe you should go find her and, you know, apologize?”
Rory’s friend nodded compliantly. “Good idea. I’m going to go see if she’s at her locker.” Monica turned and sprinted down the hall. “Wish me luck,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know how it goes when I see you at lunch!”
Right on cue, Rory’s stomach grumbled at the mention of lunch. The stupid diet she and her friends were on was going to be the death of her. The low calorie shake she’d hurriedly downed for breakfast hadn’t filled her up at all, and the thought of another “lunch” comprised solely of carrot sticks made her want to gag.
Worst of all, there was still another hour to go before lunchtime. Rory didn’t know if she could last through third period without something to tide her over.
She fished around in the pocket of her dark wash boot cut jeans and then, trying to be discreet, made her way over to the vending machine.
Rory hurriedly bought a chocolate bar and slipped it inconspicuously into her bag. She knew it was silly, but she didn’t want anyone to see her eating it. She didn’t want her friends to know she was cheating on her diet. While she suspected that most of the other girls probably cheated too, admitting to it made her feel like a failure. It also made her feel fat.
Casting one last look over her shoulder, Rory headed for the solace of the rarely-used bathroom down by the school gymnasium.
Rory slipped inside and did her usual check for feet under the stalls as she made her way down to the far one, her stomach growling angrily the entire time. There was only one problem: The far stall was occupied.
It was then that Rory heard what sounded like stifled sniffling. Someone was crying!
Before Rory could make a hasty exit out of there, the stall door opened. There stood Grace, cheeks tear-stained and eyes puffy. “Hi,” she said softly, dabbing at her face with toilet paper she’d grabbed from the dispenser.
Rory gulped. She hated when people cried. It always made her so uncomfortable and she never knew what to say. But she had to say something. She licked her lips nervously. “Hi.” Rory hesitated and then meekly asked, “Are you okay?”
Grace smiled wanly. For a fleeting moment, Rory couldn’t help but think that she looked like the saddest girl in the entire world. It was something in her eyes. But a moment later, the expression was gone.
“I’m fine,” Grace replied, blowing her nose and then stepping past Rory to the trash receptacle beside the sinks. “I didn’t make out with Jeremy, you know. We were just talking. I wanted to find out what he was really like when he wasn’t doing stupid things to try to make his friends laugh.”
Rory was at a loss for words.
“But it doesn’t matter,” Grace continued. “Now everyone thinks I was making out with him.” She fixed her hair in the mirror and then turned to face Rory. “It’s okay, I guess. I just wanted you to know the truth.”
“Okay.” Rory wanted to say more. She wanted to assure her that she wasn’t ugly. She wanted to tell Grace that everything would be alright. She might have to weather the storm for a while, but eventually the school gossips would be distracted by something or someone else. While they might not forget about Grace completely, she wouldn’t be in the spotlight forever.
But the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, Rory blurted out, “I have to pee.”
“Alright, well I’d better get to class anyway,” Grace replied. “Bye.”
Rory locked herself in a stall and listened to make sure Grace was gone. Then she hungrily tore into her chocolate bar, greedily cramming the gooey concoction into her mouth. It didn’t taste as good as she’d expected now that it had been soured by her uncomfortable run-in with Grace.
Doubts and regrets plagued Rory. She didn’t think she was a bad person but sometimes it was so hard to make her behavior reflect her heart. Why had she blown Grace off like that? She should have talked to her...despite what Grace claimed, she clearly wasn’t okay. Who would be, after being humiliated in such a public way?
As Rory polished off her chocolate bar, she felt uneasy. She knew it couldn’t feel good to be the target of unwanted, negative attention and figured Grace could use a friend right now. Rory grabbed her bag, threw her chocolate bar wrapper away and quickly exited the bathroom, vowing to talk to Grace at lunchtime.
Rory nearly collided with Sheck in the hallway outside the washroom. “Whoa!” she uttered, taking a step back. “What are you doing here?” she added curiously, noting that the hallway was all but deserted, classes having started five minutes earlier. Trust her to be late to class again – Sheck always joked that Rory just had to make a grand entrance by barging in after class had already begun. She, in turn, cheerfully told him to shut it.
Sheck grinned and twirled his keychain on his finger. “I’m waiting for you. Let’s go for a ride.”
Rory hesitated briefly, but then decided that the prospect of sitting through another tedious class wasn’t particularly exciting. Besides, Sheck needed a friend so maybe in a way skipping class was actually altruistic. “Okay,” she replied, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. “Where are we headed?”
As it turned out, Rory and Sheck were headed to Cricket Lake.
Despite its unappealing name, it was a picturesque little vacation getaway. During the summer months, its campground was typically occupied to capacity. The cottages surrounding part of the lake were also well-used, with young families and retirees alike wanting to soak up every bit of summer at the lake that they could. It also had all the typical amenities of a well-run, well-used campground, including a recreation centre, baseball diamonds and a putt-putt course.
During the off season, however, Cricket Lake was all but deserted. The buildings were all locked up, the campground was empty and it was rare to see a soul around. That was the case on Thursday.
“It’s kind of spooky out here,” Rory commented as Sheck pulled his car into the deserted gravel parking lot down by the water. “It’s like a ghost town...well, ghost campground. You know what I mean.”
“I like it,” Sheck replied, staring out the window at the water wistfully. “It’s like having a private campground. I like coming out here to think.”
Rory snorted. “Is that what getting high is called these days?”
Sheck shrugged and pulled a joint out of the pocket of his well worn denim jacket. “You know me too well,” he grinned sheepishly, fishing around for a lighter.
It was funny, Rory thought, because right now she felt like she didn’t know him at all. “If you’re getting high then I get to drive home,” she informed him firmly.
“You don’t even have your driver’s licence,” he reminded her. It was true. She’d failed the written test so hadn’t even had the chance to take her actual driving test yet. Instead, she was stuck repeating the whole stupid course.
“It’s still better than you driving home high,” Rory retorted, her tone letting him know that the matter wasn’t up for discussion. “And I’m not waiting out here all night for you to come down. So either I drive us home or you don’t get high,” she insisted, secretly hoping he’d choose the second option.
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“Fine,” Sheck relented. “You can drive us home.”
As the fumes filled the car, Rory wrinkled her nose and rolled down the window to get some air. Despite her efforts, the cold spring wind soon had her rolling the window back up. Sheck looked over at her guiltily as she coughed.
“Sorry,” he apologized, sounding like his usual kind, considerate self again. “I’ll put it out.” The two sat in silence for a moment and then Sheck turned to Rory. “Thanks for coming out here with me,” he said quietly. “It was getting a bit lonely being out here on my own all the time.”
“If you’re lonely, why don’t you come to school?”
Sheck looked defeated. “I can’t concentrate. Ever since this junk with my parents...it’s just been really hard, you know? Everyone at school is all caught up in their own stupid drama and meanwhile my family is falling apart. It’s hard.”
Rory wanted to hug Sheck but decided that would be weird as they weren’t the kind of friends who hugged. Instead, she settled for turning on the radio. “I love this song,” she commented as one of her favourite alternative rock ballads came on. “Where is your dad now?”
“He’s at a hotel for the time being. He’s going to look for something more permanent, but he’s been busy with work lately. He’s been asking me to go hang out with him at the hotel...keeps telling me they have a nice pool there. Like a fancy waterslide is suddenly going to magically make everything okay again? It’s so stupid.”
“So you haven’t seen him since he...left?”
“No. And I’m not sure I want to.”
Rory contemplated this for a moment. “Did he...cheat on your mom or something?” She couldn’t imagine kind, dependable Clive doing that to vivacious, beautiful Val, but then again, she couldn’t imagine the two of them splitting up, either. But anything was possible, she supposed. That much had become clear to her when they’d split, unfortunately.
Catalyst (The Best Days #1) Page 6
