by Angel Lawson
That made sense and explained a lot about how some days he was friendly in class but never let it go any further.
“Give him time,” Oliver said.
“We’ll find out who’s taking and posting the photos,” Hayden added. “Until then, stick close to us. Always.”
“And no more fake dates,” Oliver said. “There’s no way to know you’re safe. The owner of the Fakestagram account could be anyone at school. If you want to prove something to the school, go for it. Dress how you want. Slut shaming is wrong. But if you want to push it further or fool around with a guy? You use one of us. Got it?”
“Is that why Jackson asked me to the party this weekend?”
Hayden laughed and picked up another piece of pizza. “Jackson asked you to the party because he thinks you’re hot.”
My cheeks flamed, but in reality, I felt warm all over. I’d never had people before. Just Justin. But this? Oliver was telling me I finally had a group I belonged to—The Allendale Four.
Chapter 6
Knowing I had the support of the guys, I made a decision and refused to back down to whoever was bullying me. He or she apparently wanted to prove me a slut. Oliver was right. Slut shaming was wrong, so, fine. Whatever.
I dressed for the day: short, plaid skirt. Check. Tight, white blouse. Check. So what? I was channeling early ‘90s Britney Spears. No need to reinvent the wheel.
Jackson met me at my locker again before Chemistry. Apparently, this was going to be a thing. One of the guys would be around all the time. I didn’t hate it.
Anderson watched us walk down the hall together. I pretended that Jackson’s warm fingertips on my back didn’t send a rush of butterflies to my belly, and that I didn’t see the look of disapproval in his best friend’s eyes. Typically, they had their weird stand-off in the hallway. I understood it a little better knowing Anderson’s past, but it still hurt.
“Bye, boys,” I said, leaving them to their drama.
Jackson’s fingers slipped off my back. “Later.”
During class, Anderson ignored me. Well, maybe not ignored. He was watching me when he thought I didn’t notice. I felt more than saw his eyes on me. Perhaps Anderson wasn’t totally immune to me after all.
The rest of the week was pretty much the same. Boys swirling around me. Girls giving me the stink eye. Even though things were different from a couple weeks ago, at the same time, I still felt the hovering anxiety from so many people watching me. Even though Jackson had publicly staked his claim, I was curious when Benjamin walked up to our table in Chemistry on Thursday before Anderson came into class.
“Hi, Heaven.”
I eyed him warily. Things had calmed down a little bit since Jackson had been hovering around. Benjamin was nice but a little dorky. I had a hard time seeing him attempting to pull something over on me. His eyes were glued to my chest of course, but I couldn’t blame him. I had a pretty rocking rack.
“What’s up Benjamin?”
“I just wanted to know if I could borrow your notes from English. I had a dentist appointment.”
I breathed a sigh of internal relief. I really didn’t want to have to say no to another fake sex/fake make-out/fake coffee date. “Sure, stop by my locker after school and I’ll give them to you, okay?”
A loud scraping noise interrupted us and Anderson made his presence known. Benjamin glanced in his direction and offered a smile. Anderson gave a weak one in return.
“Great, after school?”
I nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
He walked away and the silence from our little table was deafening. The one person I’d hoped to gain attention from was still ignoring me, that was, until that moment.
That was the day Anderson decided to break his wall of silence.
“You know, he’s a dick.”
That was what he said after almost a week. Regardless, my heart stuttered at the sound of his voice. His words were quiet, low so Mr. Baker wouldn’t hear. In return, I never looked up from my paper.
“What was that? You’re a dick?”
I did look up for the reaction. I was rewarded with a grimace and then the hint of a smile. The only one I’d seen on him in a week.
“Are you talking about Benjamin, because he only—"
“I was talking about Jackson.”
I pretended to mull this information over, tapping my finger on my lips. His eyes darted away from mine. Yeah, he was watching. “This may work for me, then.”
“What?”
“Jackson being a dick. I’m a bitch and apparently a whore, so, yeah, we may be a good match.”
I expected another laugh but instead Anderson’s expression closed. I watched the bone in his jaw flex and retract. This simple motion was completely mesmerizing. Mesmerizing. I considered rubbing my thumb on the sharp angle of the bone jutting out. My fingers twitched and he moved, snapping me out of my trance. I realized that although that bony jaw was hot, it was also a little scary. He was pissed. In all our years of being classmates, we had always had an easy friendship. This? This was so different.
“You’re not.”
I flicker of hope spread through my chest. “I’m not what?”
“A bitch.”
His jaw was still set and his green eyes held mine. I could hardly breathe. He said I wasn’t a bitch. Which was nice. Awesome. What he didn’t say was, “I don’t think you’re a whore.”
“And?”
He didn’t respond.
“Fuck you.” I stood up, grabbed my books and walked out of class.
Chapter 7
Since I left during the middle of class, the hallway was quiet. I couldn’t actually leave school—the last thing I wanted was to get in real trouble. I pushed open the door to the girl’s room. Refuge.
“Heaven Reeves.” I heard my name called the minute I walked into the tiny, cold, cinderblock room. Amber Wasserman was standing with her back to the row of sinks along the wall.
“Hey, Amber.”
“Whatever Heaven, don’t ’hey’ me.”
I looked at the girl in front of me. Amber had a reputation for advocacy and activism. She led the environmental club, the National Organization of Women chapter, and she always wore some kind of feminist shirt to school. The one today was gray with just “girl power” across the front. She was definitely a little on edge. She was also apparently very angry with me.
I sighed dramatically, over her drama already. I was furious with Anderson and more than a little hurt. The last thing I wanted to deal with was her issues. I walked over to the mirrors and I smoothed the collar of my shirt. “What’s the problem?’
“You.”
I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t feel like delving into her drama right now. “Spit it out, Amber.”
“Leave Ben alone.”
Ben? I almost laughed. He was so not of interest to me. Had she not heard? I had the Allendale Four following me around. Sure, they only wanted to be friends—sweet protectors of the innocent and weak, but still. I didn’t laugh, though. Amber’s fists were balled by her sides and I didn’t want to get punched in the face.
Instead I smiled and said, “Sure. No problem.”
“I’m serious. I saw you two talking earlier.”
“Yeah, Amber,” I shook my head. “He asked if I would let him borrow my homework. Is that a crime? What’s it to you, anyway? You dump him every other week. Everyone knows you treat him like shit.” I turned to face the mirror, fixing my hair. “Seems to me if you don’t want anyone else to have a shot with him, then you better lock that shit up.”
That shut her up, because other than staring at me with her jaw hung open, she simply grabbed her bag and ran out of the room in a huff.
“Psycho,” I muttered, giving her a little space before I walked out the door. To my surprise Oliver was standing in the hall, eyebrows raised.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just doing what I do best—making enemies.” I told him, feeling tears
burn at the corner of my eyes. He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me tight. He smelled good and his body felt perfect next to mine. So perfect that I didn’t even care when we rounded the corner and the whispers started.
Let them whisper.
I had The Four at my back.
*
“What are you doing out here?”
I turned and stared at Hayden. We were on friendlier terms since the impromptu pizza night at my house, but otherwise I’d never been alone with him. Not until now.
“What are you doing out here?” I shot back, before I thought about it. Of all the boys, Hayden intimidated me the most.
Oliver was a teddy bear.
Jackson was genuinely nice, even if he couldn’t take his eyes off my chest.
Anderson…he was Anderson. Less scary, more annoying. I was slowly figuring him out. Maybe.
But Hayden? He was a god. Like how did a man-boy like him even go to high school? He should be on a reality TV show or a model in New York. Possibly a superhero hiding out? I always figured he didn’t date because he was better than the girls in Allendale. Now I know why he’s part of the Allendale Four and what that means.
‘Here’ was the small area between buildings that held some kind of garden of sorts from the agriculture club. It was quiet and out of sight. I was waiting here until I could easily make my escape from school.
“Testy today?” he shot back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m hiding from Mrs. Cooper. She’s after my ass for detention for skipping class.”
“I just needed a break.”
“Someone bothering you?” A dark shadow fell over his eyes.
“No. I know you guys agreed to back me and I appreciate it, but I can’t take much more.”
He narrowed his eyes and tucked his long hair behind his ear. “What do you mean?”
“Oliver and Jackson are so nice—both laying their reputations on the line to hang out with me. Anderson is…well, you know…”
He blew a puff of smoke into the air and chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
“It’s just coming from all sides. The girls still hate me. Amber Wasserman just accused me of trying to steal Benjamin from her.” I rolled my eyes. “As if.”
Hayden howled with laughter at that one.
“What?”
“Benjamin would have no fucking clue to do with a girl like you.”
I’m not sure if I should be offended, but I kind of had the same thought. “Seriously. He just wanted to borrow my notes.”
He smiled. It was glorious. “Figures.”
I leaned against the building. “I’m just tired, I guess.”
“You didn’t mention me on that list…”
I raised an eyebrow. “No. I didn’t.”
“Why’s that?”
I shrugged. “Not sure I know you well enough to say.”
“We can easily fix that, you know.” He walked over and leaned against the building, inches away. He smelled like a mixture of aftershave and rain. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his face, and then he inexplicably reached out and touched my chin. “I’m shocked it took everyone so long to take notice. I’ve had my eye on you since the first day you moved here. All arms and legs. Thick braids. Scared of your shadow. I knew there was more and so did the others. Why do you think the guys befriended you?”
“Because I make a good lab partner?”
He laughed. “Well, obviously.”
I eyed him skeptically. “If you could see all that about me, then how come no one else did?”
“The kids at school? The dickwads like Mark Amerson or Spencer? Oh, they noticed. They’re all terrified of you.”
“Yeah right,” I scoffed.
Hayden placed his palm on the building and leaned close. I saw the dark ink of a tattoo on his bicep. “Totally. You’re untouchable.”
Untouchable. The high school equivalent of a disease.
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve spent the last three years here fairly invisible.”
“By choice,” he pointed out.
“Maybe.”
“Well, maybe that just drives them all a little crazy. Guys always want what they can’t have. It’s biology.” I wasn’t sure about that but he seemed convinced. “You’ve been off limits. They thought you were better than them.”
“Sure, okay, say all this is true. Why now?”
“Justin Blackwood broke you. They all feel like they could have a shot now.”
“Gross. Broke me?” This conversation was equally fascinating and repulsive at the same time.
“Justin is good-looking and popular. If you didn’t shoot him down then they think they may have a chance. Like Jackson and the party.”
“If he thinks something is happening between us there, he’s wrong. I already made that party foul once.”
He smiled and it took my breath away. “Jackson’s no fool. He’s probably had his eye on you for a while. I mean, he did ask you before Oliver stepped in.”
“Huh.” I found this hard to believe.
“Yeah. Look, I’m not trying to sell out my brothers or anything, but you know Jackson and Anderson don’t date much. He was probably trying to get up the nerve to ask when shit hit the fan and he got his opportunity.”
The thought of Jackson or Anderson being nervous to ask someone out seemed ridiculous. Who wouldn’t say yes?
“Whatever,” I deflected. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to get in my pants.”
He nodded. “Oh, definitely.”
I stared at him for a minute, mesmerized by his dark eyes and wanting to run my fingers across the ink of his tattoo. These boys…they’re too much, and frankly just enough. They’re perfect. Funny. Strong, and well…if everything they’re telling me is true, quite possibly mine.
“What about you, Hayden?” I asked, well aware of the way his eyes kept dropping to the visible cleavage pushing out of my shirt. “Were you too intimidated to ask me out?”
He swallowed and leaned in close to my ear. “You and I? We’re not ready for each other yet. Once you’ve had some fun with my friends come and find me. Then we’ll do it our own way.”
He straightened and to my shock, brushed his lips across my forehead. I gripped the wall, willing my knees to hold me up right. His words came out less like a threat and more like a promise.
A promise, I realized as I watched him walk back into the school, I was determined to make him keep.
Chapter 8
I was lying on my bed when the photo came through my feed.
Hayden and I in the school garden in the exact moment he leaned in to kiss my forehead. You couldn’t see that though, the chasteness of it all. No, it looked like we were full on kissing. Plus, his hand is down by the hem of my skirt and it looked like he was feeling me up. The photo had been tagged with, “Heaven Bags One Of The Four. Who’s Next?”
It only takes a moment for the comments to start. They fill up the screen of my laptop, flooding the page.
Fucking whore
Stupid skank
In public? Gross
Shady as hell.
Hayden Pierce? I’d do him.
Heaven Reeves? I’d do her.
Hope he gets tested.
Who does she think he is?
And on
And on
And on
I knew I should turn it off, but like any trainwreck it was impossible to step away. It felt like watching someone else’s life unfold, but then I looked at the photo and remembered standing there, feeling Hayden’s lips on my forehead, wanting him to do more.
Maybe I was a whore?
Maybe I deserved this?
Anxiety wracked through my chest and it’s all just too much. Hayden made me feel better but now that had been exploited too. Was any of it real?
I pinched myself and felt the sting.
I did it again.
The house was quiet. My mom was gone again. I stared and stared at the photo, feeling like a worthless piece o
f trash. If I didn’t do something, the panic would set in. I needed a way to release the anxiousness—the pain of being a loser no matter what I did.
I went to my desk and pulled out my pencil bag. There was a small sharpener inside and I knew I could break it open. Get to the blade inside. I’d done it before.
Dropping the phone into the docking station, I flipped on some music and stripped off my shirt so that I was down to a white tank. I saw the scars from before—back when things were darkest for me. They’re all over my upper arms, pale and pink, where people couldn’t see. I never tried to kill myself. That’s not what it was about. The cuts…they were to release the pain. The stress and anger I carried day in and day out. Things had been better but all of this—I’d ventured too outside my box. How dare I try to make friends. How dare someone like me for me.
I fought to catch my breath, focusing on the music and staring at my face in the bathroom mirror. Mascara smeared down my cheek. My nose was red and splotchy. I’d promised my mom I wouldn’t do this anymore, but it hurt so bad.
I smashed the pencil sharpener on the bathroom sink and eyed the sharp metal inside.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I screamed. I screamed loud, so loud, and spun around.
“Oliver! Holy shit!”
Oliver stood in the doorway, eyes wide with fear. He reached for me and snatched the blade from my hand. “What is this?” His eyes skimmed down my arm, taking in the scars. “Heaven, what are you doing?”
We stared at one another and finally I broke. I just broke, collapsing into a heap. A wail rose from the back of my throat but I didn’t hit the ground. Strong arms caught me, lifted me, carried me out of the bathroom.
Oliver cradled me against his chest and lowered me to the bed, engulfing me in his arms. I cried against him, using his body for support. I cried as he stroked my shoulders and arms, kissing the old scars one by one. I sobbed, feeling the pain in my chest crack, finally having someone there to take care of me. I did this until there was nothing left. No pain. No despair. Only an empty shell.
