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The Importance of Getting Revenge

Page 3

by Amanda Abram

“Chick fight. Awesome.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes at the sound of the voice behind me. It belonged to Eric Stevenson, Jase’s best friend and the guy who had been pining for Trish since elementary school.

  Trish directed a seductive smirk at Eric and said, “Does that turn you on, baby?”

  I heard a disgusted groan come from beside Eric and figured Jase was with him. I turned around to confirm, and Jase was indeed standing alongside Eric, with a look of pure revulsion on his face. I’m sure he didn’t like hearing his sister saying phrases such as “turn you on” to anyone, and I couldn’t blame him. The thought of hearing Aaron say something like that to a girl made me kind of queasy as well.

  Eric let out a low whistle when he saw me. “Whoa. Trish's best friend, is that you?” He always liked to refer to me as ‘Trish's best friend’, just to be obnoxious.

  “Yes, Eric,” I muttered.

  “Yo, dude.” He gave Jase a playful nudge. “Your sister’s BFF is a total babe.”

  And that was when Jase finally looked at me. I had to wonder if he had even noticed me standing there until Eric pointed me out to him.

  “You let my sister dress you this morning, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

  Eric smiled dreamily. “That’s hot.”

  “I didn’t mean it literally, Stevenson,” Jase said, his repulsed expression resurfacing.

  Trish glared at both of them. “Don’t be a jerk, Jase. Tell her how great she looks.”

  “You look awesome,” Eric said, giving me a grin and the thumbs-up.

  Trish hit his shoulder playfully. “Is your name Jase, moron?”

  “No,” he mumbled, rubbing the spot where her fist had made contact.

  The bell rang and a look of relief washed over Jase’s face. He wouldn’t have to compliment me after all.

  “See ya.” He nodded to both me and Trish before grabbing Eric’s sleeve and dragging him away from us.

  Trish shook her head at their retreating forms. “Boys suck, don’t they?”

  “They sure do,” I agreed.

  “Whatever. So you’ll have to wait until later to see Jeffrey. Not a big deal. You’ll still look just as beautiful then as you do now.”

  For some reason, I felt annoyed at her comment. Maybe it was because I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt like a freak. At least, compared to Amber-Lynne Rose, who probably rolled out of bed every morning looking gorgeous.

  “See you in Lit, girl,” Trish said, giving me air kisses and waving goodbye before bouncing off down the hallway.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved back, but she had already disappeared into the crowd of students.

  It was time to start my first day as the new Lexi Turner.

  Chapter Four

  I didn’t see Jeffrey all day, even though I searched the hallways quite thoroughly between each and every class. It was like he was trying to avoid me. I really had no doubt that he was. Ever since the breakup, I was rarely able to spot him between classes. Because he knew my schedule, he knew exactly where not to be at any given time if he didn't want to see me. Apparently, he never wanted to see me anymore.

  What Jeffrey didn't know was my post-breakup after-school schedule, which consisted of Trish meeting me in the lobby two minutes after the ringing of the last bell and driving me home. However, ten minutes after the bell rang that afternoon, I was still waiting in the lobby for her, wondering what was keeping her. Trish was never late for anything.

  And that was when I spotted him.

  He was, amazingly enough, alone and heading for his locker. As soon as I recognized that as the perfect opportunity to go and say hi, my heart started going pitter-patter in my chest. I felt like a big wuss, because a large part of me wanted to just pretend like I hadn’t seen him.

  Unfortunately, the smaller part of me won out, and I quietly followed him all the way to his locker.

  When he stopped and fumbled with the lock, I stood a few feet behind him, watching. His locker combination was 10-1-16. I knew this because he shared his locker with me once, after I’d had a tragic soda incident in my own. He messed up on the first try, as usual. He could never remember if it was left-right-left, or right-left-right.

  Just like always, he got it right on the second try.

  He tossed a book into his locker, traded it for another and threw it into his backpack. Running one hand through his hair, he used his other one to slam the door shut. I could tell he was getting ready to walk off, so I had to act fast.

  Taking a courageous step forward, I tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, Jeffrey.”

  He spun around to look at me, and to my complete satisfaction, he looked shocked.

  “Uh…Lexi,” he croaked. His eyes immediately took in my appearance, widening to the point I was afraid they might pop out of their sockets. His mouth remained open, like he was going to say more, but he just quietly stared at me.

  His reaction gave me more confidence than I had expected it would. Reaching around to my own backpack, I unzipped it, pulled out The Great Gatsby and held it out to him. “Here. I believe you were looking for this.”

  It took a full five seconds for him to avert his gaze down to the book. “Oh. Right.” He reached over and took it from my hands. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank my mom. She’s the one who found it.”

  Jeffrey’s eyes slowly began to narrow. “You look…different.”

  I should have felt insulted that he used the word “different” instead of “fabulous”, “amazing”, “spectacular”, or any other adjective that girls liked to hear from guys, but honestly, it made me feel good. Just the way he said “different” made me melt.

  “You look good,” he added, a small smile tugging at his lips.

  And I was then officially turned into a puddle of goo.

  “Th-thanks,” I stammered. I could feel myself blushing, and I hoped it wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

  His gaze slowly traveled down the length of my body. It was hard to tell if he liked what he saw, because he wasn’t saying anything. All I could do was try and read his eyes. While there was once a time I could do that, because his eyes used to be so much of an open book, now all I could see were eyes.

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned over to me. To tell me something? To kiss me? My breath hitched in my throat. Either way, it didn’t matter. He had just moved closer to me, and I could smell his cologne. I missed that subtle, spicy scent. He was always so good at putting on just the right amount. Not too much, not too little. Just right.

  His lips parted slightly as his gaze lowered to my mouth. He inhaled, as though he were about to speak, but then his eyes caught sight of something behind me and he immediately took a step back.

  I swallowed hard as Jeffrey’s eyes slanted into a glare. Out of curiosity, I spun around to see what had interrupted our perfect moment of…of what, exactly? I had no idea. But turning around, I found myself staring up Jase, who was glancing past me as if I wasn’t even there.

  He stared over at Jeffrey. “Weston,” he greeted him, rather calmly for someone who looked so pissed.

  “Holloway,” Jeffrey returned the greeting with an astounding lack of enthusiasm. He glanced back down at me. “Thanks for the book. I’ll see ya around.”

  And with that, he walked away. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner that I let out a breath I was unaware I’d been holding. I hated Jase so much at that moment.

  “What do you want?” I demanded, not bothering to hide my annoyance as I brushed past him and headed for my own locker.

  “Grouchy much?” he said with raised eyebrows. “What were you doing talking to Jeffrey?”

  “I don’t see what business that is of yours.”

  He nodded in reluctant agreement and leaned up against the locker next to mine. “Anyway, Trish asked me to drive you home today.”

  My arm froze in mid-air, just as I was about to place a book inside my locker. “Why isn’t Trish driving me home?”
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  “The moron got detention.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Trish got detention? Our Trish? What did she do?”

  He shrugged. “I have no clue, and she won’t tell me. She just requested that I escort you home.”

  Finally unfreezing, I shoved the book inside my locker and then slammed the door shut. “Thanks, but I can walk.”

  “You live ten minutes away by car. That’s quite a long walk.”

  “It’s no biggie.” Truth was, I had no interest in being alone with Jase. Why? Because it would just be weird. There was a time I felt perfectly comfortable around him, back when we were friends. But now, I felt like I didn’t even know the guy. Letting him drive me home would be like accepting a ride from a stranger, and my mother told me never to do that.

  “Actually, it’s a huge ‘biggie’,” he corrected me. “I was told, by Trish herself, that if I don’t drive you home, she will kill me in my sleep.”

  “You’re afraid of a girl?” I teased.

  “Hell yeah! You know Trish as well as I do, probably better. You know what she’s capable of.”

  I chuckled, and then sighed in defeat. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t feel like walking, anyway.”

  Actually, I would have hitch-hiked home before walking, but I decided not to tell him that.

  It was pathetic how both Jase and Trish each had their own cars, when I didn’t even have my driver’s license. I still only had my permit, which I was absolutely content with. I wasn’t crazy about driving, and to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure I was all that great at it anyway. Still, it was a bummer to either have to take the bus, or rely on friends to transport me to and from school, when pretty much every other junior or senior drove themselves.

  Jase led me out to his car, a black '99 Ford Mustang. It was a total dude car through and through. The engine was loud and obnoxious. The speaker system cost more than the car itself. And hanging from the rearview mirror was a rectangle air freshener with a picture of a half-naked chick on it. A blonde, big-breasted chick; exactly the kind of chicks Jase pursued at our school. As far as I knew, he had dated almost every hot blonde at Jefferson Elliott. If he didn’t graduate soon, he would have to move onto the brunettes or redheads.

  I scouted the parking lot briefly before climbing into the car. I was looking for Jeffrey, but I didn’t see his car anywhere. Jeffrey had a dude car as well, but his was cherry red and easy to spot in a parking lot because it was always the shiniest one there. Jeffrey took great care of his car. I used to wonder if he cared more about it than he did me.

  The entire ride to my house was silent. Well, as silent as it could be with the speakers blaring music at full volume. Riding with Jase was like taking part in a traveling rock concert. It wasn’t until he pulled up in front of my house that everything became really quiet, when he turned off the car, silencing the engine and the music simultaneously. All I was left with was the ringing in my ears.

  “So...” I was about to just thank him for the ride and then bolt, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy. After all, he had turned off the car. Which meant he wasn’t planning on a drop-and-run.

  “So,” he echoed. He leaned back in his seat and glanced over at me. “What’s up with you, anyway?”

  I feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”

  “Your hair, those clothes,” he replied, pointing. It was amazing how much he sounded like my mother. “And is that makeup you’re wearing? What is my sister doing to you?”

  “Oh, right.” I gave him a half-smile. “Trish is, uh…helping me.”

  “You call this help? You look like an Amber-Lynne Rose cloning experiment gone horribly wrong.”

  My smile instantly faded. Well, that certainly stung. It was bad enough to be compared to Amber-Lynne Rose, but to be informed that I was a lesser version of her was an extreme blow to my self-esteem, which was already lacking to begin with.

  I didn’t know what to say. Which was probably just as well, since apparently Jase wasn’t finished.

  “This ‘help’ wouldn’t have anything to do with Weston, would it?” I could detect the venom in his voice, and it pissed me off. I was so sick and tired of this feud between them, especially when neither one of them could explain why they were even feuding in the first place.

  I let out an annoyed sigh and was surprised to discover my hands were now shaking.

  “Because I have to say,” he continued, “you’d just be wasting your time. The guy finally showed you his true colors, and you’d be an idiot to try and win him back.”

  “I have to go,” I said abruptly, gathering up my stuff. I could feel hot tears begin to form in my eyes, clouding my vision. “Thanks for the ride.”

  I scrambled out of the car with impressive speed, slamming the door shut behind me. I thought maybe I heard him call out my name, but I ignored him. I couldn’t wait to get inside the house. I couldn’t wait to take off those god-awful clothes, wash off the god-awful makeup, throw on a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, crawl into my bed and pop in some earbuds and blast my post-breakup playlist at full volume until my eardrums could no longer take it.

  The engine of Jase’s car roared back to life, as did the booming bass in his speakers, and I listened to his tires squeal as he pulled out onto the road. I had a feeling that in his own insensitive way, he had just been trying to give me some friendly advice. But that didn’t stop his words from cutting. It also didn’t stop them from being true.

  “What was that all about?”

  I jumped at the sudden sound of my brother's voice. I had been so busy fuming at Jase that I hadn't noticed Aaron exiting the house, skateboard in hand.

  “Nothing,” I grumbled in response.

  “Since when do you get rides home from Jase?” He paused for a moment and then frowned. “Wait, you two aren't dating now, are you?”

  My jaw dropped at his question. Me and Jase, dating? As if. “No, of course not.”

  Surprisingly, he seemed to accept my answer as he nodded and walked past me. “It's too bad you aren't, though, considering how Jeffrey feels about that guy.”

  I gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Jeffrey hates him. I'm sure he wouldn't be too pleased to see his ex-girlfriend dating Jase Holloway.” Aaron smirked at the thought as he placed his skateboard on the ground. “Tell Mom I'll be home for dinner. See ya.”

  I stared after him as he made his way down the driveway, his words repeating themselves over and over again inside my head. He wouldn't be too pleased to see his ex-girlfriend dating Jase Holloway.

  No, he wouldn't be pleased at all.

  As a smile began to form on my face, a plan began to form in my brain. I realized then that I was going about this all wrong. Changing my appearance for the better wasn’t going to get revenge. No. There were much better ways of achieving that.

  Like, for instance, dating the guy my ex-boyfriend hated.

  My little brother was a genius.

  Chapter Five

  Neither Jeffrey nor Jase could technically be considered jocks. They played only one sport each. Jeffrey played lacrosse and Jase played hockey. Neither one acted like a stereotypical jock, but they both hung out with jocks. Jeffrey hung out with members of the lacrosse, baseball and basketball teams. Jase hung out with the members of the hockey and football teams. Rarely did the two groups mix at our school, which was good for both Jeffrey and Jase, because it meant they could continue to avoid each other at all costs.

  I wasn't looking forward to approaching Jase the next afternoon. It was bad enough I was about to propose an idea to him that he was most likely going to turn down, but I was going to have to approach him while he was with his friends, who were typical jocks.

  Jase and I shared the same lunch period every day. And since Trish and I shared the same lunch period every other day, I wasn’t going to have to explain to her why I was currently heading over to the jock table to pay her brother a visit.

  She wo
uld have seriously questioned my sanity.

  I was actually questioning it myself as I sauntered over to the obnoxiously loud table during the middle of lunch. But I held my head high, faking as much confidence as I could. Otherwise, I risked getting eaten alive.

  His gaze caught mine as I neared him, and I couldn't quite read the expression on his face. He probably didn’t think I was coming over to his table. I mean, why would I be? He and I didn’t associate with each other in school. Ever. It was, like, an unspoken rule or something. And little did he know, I was about to break it.

  His eyes remained glued to me until I reached my destination, and when I stopped only a couple of feet away from him, he glanced up at me with an arched eyebrow.

  “Hey, Jase,” I said, trying to sound as cool as possible.

  “Uh…hey?” he said back.

  One of his friends, Cory Chesterfield, snorted. “Hey, are you, uh, the new girl or something?”

  “No, Cory,” I replied. “I’ve been going to school with you for the past eleven years now.”

  “Dude, that’s Trish’s best friend,” Eric informed him, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Cory nodded then, as if he was starting to remember. “Oh, right. Trish is totally hot.” Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

  Jase scowled at all of them and then, without glancing back up at me, asked, rather impatiently, “What do you want, Lex?”

  “I was wondering if I could talk to you?” I fiddled with one of the drawstrings of my hoodie.

  Yes, I said “hoodie”. I had woken up late that morning, and wasn’t in the mood to try and pick out the perfect girly ensemble to wear before rushing off to school, so I’d opted for jeans and a sweatshirt. Trish, of course, was more than disappointed with me, but I was quick to point out to her that at least my jeans were light blue denim, and the sweatshirt was lavender, which was totally a girl color. And then when I pointed out that nothing on my body even remotely resembled flannel, she let it slide. However, she said if I came to school dressed like that again, she would disown me as a friend forever.

  “Talk?” He stared up at me with a blank expression. I hated blank expressions, because people only used them when they didn’t want to show what they were really feeling. And I really sucked at trying to figure out what people were feeling.

 

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