by Blair Holden
But as the words leave her mouth, the image shatters into thousands of bite-sized pieces because I know where this is going.
“What about my car?” I ask carefully as her smirk widens.
“I was thinking maybe we’d get it next year. You can have Travis’s old one this year since you’re still a little shaky with parking.”
Oh no she didn’t! I could park better than she could, and she had admitted it to my face. I know what she’s doing. She’s blackmailing me into being Cole’s lapdog and threatening me by taking away the one thing she knows I could never live without. I really need that car. When you’re as plagued by self-esteem issues as I am, the last thing you need is being driven to and from school by your father.
I gulp as I realize the predicament I’m in. The only option I have left is to surrender my pride and take this punishment with a pinch of salt. One day I will, parents, I will get back at you.
“Don’t worry, Mommy; I’ll work on my parking.” I smile until my cheeks ache, but the message has been delivered. When decoded my words meant this: “You win, Mother, I won’t be bringing my wrath down upon Cole, at least not today.”
“Wonderful, dear,” she replies cheerfully, and turns back to her breakfast.
***
“So I think we need to tell our parents that we’re not interested in spending time with one another. I think you should be the one to do it though, since I don’t think my parents understand most of what I say. There’s clearly a communication gap,” I tell him, having practiced this speech over and over in my head during our drive. I don’t want to be excessively rude to him but also need to get this point across.
“I thought we agreed to be friends last night.” Cole pouts but keeps his eyes on the road. I study his profile and notice the stiffness of his jaw, and the tightness around his mouth. Wait, did I just hurt his feelings again? I squeeze my eyes shut and push the thought aside. I did not agree to be his friend and never would.
“We did not agree on anything last night, and I think it’s best if we went our separate ways, don’t you think? The past is the past, I’ll do my thing and you do yours. This does not need to get ugly.” I try to reason with him because if I’m stuck in an enclosed space with Cole Stone and cannot get out without risking death, then I might as well use it to my advantage. Stupidly enough, I’d convinced myself that he wouldn’t pull one of his stunts on me while we’re driving, but given how his face falls as I keep talking, I realize that I might be proven wrong. Why is he reacting this way?
“Do you really think it’s that big of an impossibility? Us being friends?” His seriousness is unexpected and I don’t know how to answer him.
“I . . . I . . . just think it would be best if we went our separate ways.”
“But what if . . . Christ, Tessie, what if I want to try to make it right this time around?”
Noting the look of absolute shock on my face, he retreats from saying more things that are making the foundations of my world shake. “Okay then, before we give you a panic attack bright and early this morning, let’s leave this open for discussion, okay?
I don’t think I respond.
“Did they put you through a brain transplant at military school?”
“You and that imagination of yours, shortcake. I’m perfectly capable of being nice.” He chuckles.
I bet my imagination can think of a thousand different ways to kill him using that pack of gum lying atop the dashboard. Whoever this version of Cole is, I’m even more unsure of how to deal with him than I was with the evil version of him. The sooner I get rid of him, the better it is for my sanity. Death by spearmint—I’d revolutionize the world of crime. They should give me my own episode of Criminal Minds.
When we finally make it to the parking lot of ALHS, I feel like I’m a war veteran; shell-shocked is the right phrase to describe my current state of mind. Unaffected by the fact that I almost had a panic attack, Cole eases his Volvo between two parking spaces. My legs feel wobbly as I throw myself out of the car, far away from Lucifer. In my haste to get away from him, I stumble into a cheerleader and prepare myself for an earful.
But it never comes.
Said cheerleader is nearly drooling as she watches Cole. Not only her; as I look around, everyone seems to be frozen on the spot and staring at him.
Figures. Cole’s return is a pretty big deal. He’s this unforgettable legend to the entire student population. At ALHS, he’s hero-worshipped for the many pranks he’s pulled throughout the years. Everyone knows who he is, even though he’s been gone for three years, and it seems like his celebrity status hasn’t diminished even a little bit.
Joy.
He purposely embellishes his exit out of the car. Why can’t he do what normal people do and get out without the dramatic flair? It’s like watching a really bad episode of Baywatch as he swings one leg out and then the other in slow motion. When His Highness finally gets his sorry ass out of the car, he takes off his leather jacket and swings it around his shoulder. He makes a big show of taking off his aviators and inserting them in the back pocket of his jeans. Then he stretches and pretends to yawn so that his taut muscles stretch and ripple as his shirt does nothing to hide how fit he really is.
I can practically hear each and every member of the female population sigh in barely concealed lust as he runs a hand through his hair. It makes it look even better, dang it. He then does the unthinkable and winks at me, and I’m sure that everyone caught the little moment.
I narrow my eyes at him and scowl. “Who do you think you are? David Hasselhoff?”
This wipes the smirk right off his face and I mentally congratulate myself for the little victory.
“Please—if the ladies saw this,” he points toward his body, “half naked, all wet and glistening, running on the beach, they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves,” he says cockily, and I nod in agreement, surprising him.
“You’re right; it’d be a hard choice between clawing out their own eyes or taking rat poison.”
With that I march right past him knowing that every set of eyes is on me and that sooner or later this will so come back to bite me in the butt.
***
Megan is nearly hysterical in homeroom. I can tell she’s just itching to know if I really did show up with Cole and if I did indeed, how come I’m still in one piece. It is the ideal class to spill my guts since Miss Sanchez’s head currently rests on her desk and drool is visibly escaping from her mouth. I shudder at the sight and focus my attention on my best friend, who is practically whimpering with the need to know what is going on. I also have Beth, who’s pretending to not listen in on our conversation, but I know she’s interested. She’s been stuck on the same page of her assigned reading book for the past fifteen minutes and it’s not because she’s suddenly forgotten how to read.
I tell them everything, starting from how I was forced to go to the Stone residence the previous night to how Cole became my ride to school this morning and by the time I finish venting, Megan’s eyes have turned the size of watermelons as she gapes at me. Beth simply looks amused.
“Doomed, Tessa, you’re doomed,” Megan wails, and I slump in my seat, hitting my head against my desk repeatedly.
“There, there.” She pats my head sympathetically and I glare at her.
“I don’t see what the problem is.” Beth’s gravelly voice interrupts the silence for the first time. I squint in disbelief. She doesn’t think I have a problem? Has listening to all those Led Zeppelin albums finally damaged her brain?
She rolls her eyes as Megan and I give her incredulous looks. “Look, the way I see it, it’s a win-win situation for you. Now that he’s taken the role of resident bully, Nicole won’t come near you, and Jay will realize that there are other guys who are interested. He might actually grow a pair and be the friend you’ve always wanted him to be.”
I splutter in disbelief as I try to make sense of her logic. The words “guy” and “interested” stand out an
d seem so alien, especially when applied to me, that I think my friend’s gone for a ride on the cray-cray train.
“Beth, which part of him being Hannibal Lecter do you not get?”
“I get it, trust me, but what I get the most is that this guy likes you, and he showed it the best way he could. He’s obviously trying to make amends and maybe you should let him. So maybe his method isn’t the most original, but it’s a classic boy manoeuvre,” she states like she’s discussing the weather, and Megan and I exchange looks, both thinking the same thing. “Sane” Beth isn’t with us today.
“Yes, it’s a classic boy manoeuvre for when you’re in kindergarten. If there is even the smallest possibility that he likes me, he wouldn’t torture me like he does,” I explain patiently, like I’m talking to a child with learning problems.
“Think what you want; I know I can’t convince you otherwise.” She shrugs but adds, “I just feel that him being here isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
For the rest of the day I cannot stop thinking about Cole’s and Beth’s words. For the time being I’m able to tuck them away in a corner of my mind, but I realize that sooner or later, I’ll have to think about them.
***
She, however, couldn’t be more wrong. As the day passes, I realize that people are looking at me with more interest than ever. The last time I was this popular was when I’d been Nicole’s fat sidekick. These people had pushed and prodded until she’d dumped me, so it’s not surprising if I seem somewhat skeptical about what they are up to today.
I stand outside the door of my economics class. It’s a class I have with Jay and Nicole, and I have dreaded attending ever since school started. Nicole does what she can to make it the worst fifty minutes of the day, and I do what I can to protect my poor heart. It feels like someone’s taken a butchering knife to it each time I see Jay and Nicole discreetly or not so discreetly touch each other.
I walk in about five minutes early and the happy couple is already seated at their joint table. We have a partner system in this class and it’s self-evident that I sit alone. Nicole seems to have warned people against changing my status as a social outcast. I try not looking at them as I walk past them to take my seat right at the back, a seat that I hate since I need to have superhuman eyesight to see the whiteboard. But c’est la vie, you do what you gotta do.
“It’s okay, Tessie, I’m sure you’ll grow some boobs when you’re like thirty; no need to stuff your bra,” Nicole snickers.
Ugh, so close! I’d almost escaped her this time. But she’s struck a low blow. She knows that my chest area is a major source of embarrassment for me and yet she chooses to pick on it, especially when Jay’s with her. He must be comparing his curvaceous and voluptuous girlfriend to flat-chested me and thinking how he got the better end of the deal.
“Or she could get fake ones like you did, but she’s not that desperate.”
For a second, my heart soars. I freeze halfway and think that Jay’s finally defending me and that he’s finally seen how rotten his girlfriend is on the inside. Any moment now he’s going to kiss me right in front of her, telling me that I have always been the one for him. I snap my head back so fast that I almost pull a muscle, but to my utter disappointment, Jay sits in his seat squirming and another person has joined in on the discussion about my boobs—fantastic.
Cole leans over Nicole and Jay’s desk and I can see he’s testing Nicole. He wants to know if she has the guts to talk back to him. See, before Cole left, Nicole wasn’t much of a queen bee or even a worker bee. In fact, she was happy being the outcast bee with me. That’s not even the best part; Nicole also had the biggest crush on Cole. I recall all the times we squealed over the Stone brothers and imagined our joint wedding, after which we’d end up being sisters. Though I did point out that her future husband might not let me live to actually wed.
Obviously, things didn’t work out.
Now, it’s priceless seeing her face drop as Cole has so blatantly insulted her. Her mouth flops open and shut like a fish’s. She struggles to come up with the biting remarks she’s used on me all these years. It’s nice to see her be the one being bullied for a change; I almost feel a sense of gratitude toward Cole—almost.
“Back off, man.” Jay comes to the defense of his girlfriend. It’s a little too late, but it still hurts to know that he’s got her back and not mine.
“Then tell your girlfriend to stop being a bitch,” he says smoothly, and I swear I see Nicole’s face reddening in embarrassment.
“Cole,” Jay warns, his hands balling up into fists and his jaw clenching.
“Jay Jay,” he retorts, clearly enjoying the whole ordeal.
Before either of them can go any further, the bell rings and the teacher, balding Mr. Spruce, walks in clutching his briefcase. Everyone settles into their seats including me. Imagine my surprise when the chair next to me gets pulled up for the first time ever and Cole Stone, of all people, sits down next to me.
He makes nothing of it as I openly stare at him. “You can’t sit here!” I exclaim, yet try to keep my voice down as Mr. Spruce starts taking roll call.
“If it won’t kill me or endanger my sex drive in any way, then of course I can.”
I wrinkle my nose at his indecency and he chuckles at my discomfort.
“No, you seriously can’t. No one sits here!”
“Do you have some sort of contagious disease?”
“No!” I say, looking around and making sure that no one’s listening in on our conversation, especially not the people sitting two tables in front of us.
“Do you have a foot fetish?”
“Ew no.”
“Do you plan on using whatever information you can get from me in this class and use your mob connections to put a price on my head?”
I almost laugh at this one but hold it in and shake my head.
“Then I can sit here. I want to sit here.”
“You’ll end up at the bottom of the proverbial food chain, then—your call,” I say dryly, flipping my textbook open and turning to the chapter we are currently studying. I can feel Cole’s gaze burning the side of my head but I cannot look him in the eyes just yet. I might have said the words with nonchalance, but it does hurt that just by association with me, a person would be labeled a loser for eternity. It feels like I’m some sort of disease-carrying rodent that you should warn the public to run from.
“Don’t let her get to you, Tessie,” he says softly, so softly that I cannot believe that the words have come out of his mouth. It goes against his very nature to be nice to me. Since when does Cole Stone behave like an actual human being around me?
“It’s not exactly easy to do that,” I say, avoiding eye contact, but I hear him sigh and drop his head on the table.
“You let her walk all over you, but that’s got to stop.” He sounds determined and I whirl my head around to look at him. There’s genuine concern in his eyes, and my mind involuntarily goes back to what Beth said earlier this morning—did Cole like me? Or is he just trying to get rid of his guilt for the way he’d treated me all those years? If that’s the case, I can’t let myself be a charity case and so I confront him.
Even thinking about it is absurd and I shake the thoughts out of my head. “Why do you care? How are you any different from her?” I ask, and I see something akin to pain flash in his eyes, but just for a second. He shrugs before flashing me his devil-may-care smile.
“Let’s just say I don’t like sharing. You’re my Tessie and I feel like the two of us are secure enough in this relationship without needing an amateur like Bishop. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I roll my eyes and realize that he could never be serious for longer than a nanosecond. Who am I kidding, there’s no way that his feelings for me go deeper than his preference to constantly pop up in my life, whether I want him to or not. Still, there’s lingering gratitude toward him inside of me because it’s been a long time since I had someone stand up for me; but I would never let him
see that.
“I feel so lucky to have you as my personal bully.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” He winks and opens his own textbook.
Sometimes I really do wish I could see what it is that’s going on inside that head of his. But then I think better of it as I realize it probably holds more conniving thoughts about making my life a living hell. Cole Stone’s head is dangerous territory, but I have an inkling that I’m about to become Dora the Explorer sooner rather than later.
Chapter Four: In the Name of Your Pea-Sized Balls, I Say Unhand Me!
Let’s get one thing very clear, especially now that the plague called Cole Stone is fast spreading through my life. I am not an attention seeker, I never was and never will be an attention seeker. I’m the kind of girl who likes to blend into the background so much so that a chameleon would be jealous of my mad skills. See, my ability to socialize is something way past terrible. I’m downright pathetic when it comes to trying to talk to someone new. Evidence of my lack of prowess in this particular department is that I only had one friend from the age of five till the age of fifteen. When she ditched me for a higher calling, it took me months to find a new friend—Megan. In fact, I have to hand it to the girl for tolerating my one-word stuttered responses and the awkwardness that comes as naturally as breathing to me.
The purpose of this explanation is to highlight how frustrating it has become for me to be constantly watched. The eyes follow me everywhere I go, be it my classes, the cafeteria, the bathroom. The beady little suckers even followed me to my shift at Rusty’s Diner. It is unnerving to say the least, and most of the time I tolerate this unwarranted attention by telling myself that they are doing what humans are prone to do, and that’s not minding their own business. Had I been in their place, maybe I too would’ve started stalking the girl who seems to be constantly accompanied by the resident bad boy himself.
***
We’re sitting at a table in the cafeteria and once again, miraculously, the table isn’t the one nearest to the overflowing trashcans. Cole, of all people, threatened a group of soccer players who had scattered comically fast from their designated table. Now once again the feeling of being watched is growing to a point where it’s making me paranoid. It’s eerily similar to the dream where you’re naked in school.
