by Ashley Love
He nudges his friends and they all give the new girl little grins of their own, Noah waggling his eyebrows at her. Ariel stands there at her locker hugging her backpack to her chest, watching after them as they saunter off down the hall like they own the place, brushing past her and bumping into her a little harder than necessary, knocking her into the lockers. Ryker and Gordon immediately start tearing Ariel up behind her back, loud enough to where they all know she can still hear them.
And so the tormenting of Ariel begins. She's the new flavor of the month, Zane supposes. He and his friends have a few students around the school that they choose to torment on a day to day basis. Barry, a freshman with glasses too thick for his own good; Ed and Harry, a couple of nerdy juniors on the school newspaper; Krissy, another senior who is distinctly outcast enough to make her an easy target; and now Ariel.
Just before turning the corner to head to his first class, Zane glances back briefly and locks eyes with her once more, and is surprised to find that the girl looks inexplicably numb as she straightens up from where one of them had shoved her into the locker. Zane's seen the expression on a lot of people that come into contact with him and his friends, but somehow it's just different on her. He swallows down his guilt and continues walking, disappearing from sight.
3
If there's one positive thing I can say about my new school so far, it's that the cafeteria is a lot cleaner than the one at my last school in the city.
The first half of my Monday has passed in a blur of, for the most part, either being invisible or being stared at. One of the two. I don't mind either of those. I've been the new kid more times than I can count, so I'm used to that initial fascination people seem to have with me. The shiny new toy.
I sit alone in the cafeteria, tucked away in a corner near the back windows that reveal the forest just outside. There's a river and a bridge out there too, and a gathering of students at a pile of cement blocks and boulders, smoking cigarettes and huddling together against the autumn bite.
I brought a small cup of fruit for lunch, but I'm not really hungry, and the off-white chunks of honeydew and cantaloupe look unripe and unappetizing. They sit untouched in front of me as I focus my attention on folding an intricate origami beetle out of brown paper instead. Might as well get started on some origami creations for Alfred Singer before my first day of work on Saturday.
I don't even see the two people approaching me until they plop down across the table with hilarious synchronicity. I jump a little as they do, startling me out of my trance.
"Hi!" the girl greets, painfully enthusiastically, shooting me a dorky smile, her pale face framed in wild strings of bright red hair that remind me a bit of Sophia.
"Hello," I reply, eyeing first the red haired girl, and then the boy sitting next to her, with dark hair and eyes the color of cinnamon.
"We noticed you were sitting alone, so we figured we'd come say hey," the redhead says, extending a long slender hand. "I'm Charlie."
I look at her hand for a moment before reminding myself that I'm supposed to shake it. I quirk a small smile back, glad that I'm not the one extending my hand first this time, like I tried with the strange, snake-like guy with Zane in the hallway earlier. That hadn't turned out so well.
"Ariel." I shake Charlie's hand firmly, which seems to surprise her. Her grin widens even more, exploding across her freckled face.
"Nice to meet you, Ariel!"
The boy with the cinnamon eyes offers his hand up then. His dark hair is as wild as the jungle, untamable and unruly. "I'm Mason," he says, and I shake the proffered hand, nodding once in greeting, trying to keep the smile on my face. I'm so bad with people that sometimes it's hard to make an effort. But at least they approached me first. Not everyone has been so nice today.
When they start digging into their own lunches, unwrapping their plastic utensils, Mason stuffing an entire cookie into his mouth at once, I just sit there and stare. People don't usually approach me like this. This is new.
Charlie seems to notice my hesitation, but she kindly disregards it and grins through a mouthful of rubbery cafeteria spaghetti. "What are you making?" she asks, nodding towards my hands.
I glance down. "Oh, it's origami. Just a hobby," I reply, cradling the beetle a little closer to myself. My first instinct is to hide it, worried they might steal it or something. That's happened before, at other schools. But Charlie and Mason seem nice enough.
"You're pretty good at that," Mason compliments, bits of chocolate chips stuck unattractively in his teeth. He doesn't even seem to care. "I tried making one of those origami swans once, but it turned out looking like a penis."
A small laugh is startled out of me, and I glance down with a shy smile, fiddling with the beetle. "I've been practicing for a long time," I tell him. "The swan took me a while too."
Charlie pops a soft-looking grape into her mouth. "Is today your first day? I haven't seen you around before."
I nod. "My sister and I just moved to Windsor Falls on Saturday."
"Just you and your sister? Where are your parents?" Mason asks, a dribble of chocolate milk running down his chin. He wipes it away with his sleeve.
I shrug. "They work. They'll be gone for a while."
"Sweet! Party house! Got the place all to yourself!" Mason whoops with a laugh.
I chuckle a little. "Well, I suppose if I knew anyone here, I could have a party."
"You know us!" Charlie points out. Her smile seems so genuinely sweet that unexpected warmth rushes through me. "But, don't have a party. Mason is a troublemaker. He'll get the cops called on you."
"That was one time like fifty years ago!" Mason exclaims defensively, throwing the top half of an Oreo at Charlie. She catches it smoothly and pops it into her mouth.
"Community service does not make up for it," she retorts, muffled as she chews.
I watch them bicker with mild fascination. "Are you two together?"
Mason chokes on his milk, sputtering and coughing, and Charlie slaps his back a few times calmly, as if this happens all the time. "No, fortunately, we're not," she replies with an easy smile.
"She's gayer than a rainbow thong," Mason manages to choke out through his coughing, a couple tears sliding down his face.
"Oh," I nod. "Well that's alright too."
"Oh, it's very alright," Mason drawls, clearing his throat and sniffing, still managing to waggle his eyebrows lasciviously.
Charlie slaps the back of his head. "Pervert."
"What? What's not hot about two chicks making out? It's like the plotline of every good porno on the planet," he defends, still stifling little coughs as the last of the milk works its way out of his lungs. I let out an inconspicuous chuckle. At least there are some nice people here, even if Zane's group from this morning left me with a heavy feeling in my gut.
"So, have you ever done theater?" Charlie suddenly asks me.
I cock my head. "No. I've never really stayed long enough in one place to give it a try."
"You really move around a lot, don't you?" she questions. When she stares at me its so gentle, as if there's a kindness that flows from her brown eyes.
I nod. "My parents never really wanted to settle down anywhere, so..." I trail off. I don't know what else to say about it and I almost regret the confession the second it leaves my mouth. I don't know these two. Sure, they seem nice, but I'm new here, and the topic of my moving around hasn't been very welcome in a lot of places I've lived before. Charlie seems to pick up on that and lets it go.
"Well, do you want to try it out?" she asks instead. "Theater, I mean. We haven't had our first meeting yet, so it's not too late to sign up. It's really fun, I think you'd like a lot of the students in the club."
"Jesus Charlie, just 'cause she's a girl doesn't mean she wants to be in theater," Mason snorts, licking Oreo filling off his fingertips.
"You're in theater, Mr. Manly Man," Charlie points out.
"Hey, we'
re all a little girly inside," he argues with another saucy wink, earning him another smack on the back of the head.
I chuckle a little. "I'll have to think about it. How do I sign up?"
Charlie grins widely. "You just go onto the school website and look for the tab for after school activities. The sign up form is right there. And..." She hesitates for a moment. "Well, you need a parental signature but if your parents aren't around to sign it, you can always get another adult or maybe a faculty member to sign off for you."
I purse my lips and glance down, rolling the corner of the beetle's wing between my thumb and forefinger. "I'll have to check it out," I agree, lost in thought, trying to think of an adult who would actually be willing to sign something like that for me. The only two adults I really officially know here are Bonnie and Alfred Singer. Maybe one of them...
Theater does sound fun. I've never had friends before, not really. I had a friend my freshman year when I'd lived in California, but it turned out she was only pretending to be my friend to get answers on her history homework. Charlie and Mason seem different though. Maybe theater is a good idea. Maybe I can meet people this way. Maybe Windsor Falls doesn't have to be another awful pit stop on my way to college.
"So what classes are you taking?" Charlie asks, breaking me out of my daydreams.
I look up at her. "Oh, just the general credits I need left to graduate. I just have math and economics left today."
Mason makes a gagging sound. "I hated Econ. But atleast it's easy."
"I've taken it before," I tell him. "But for some reason some of my credits didn't transfer over when I changed schools. It happens sometimes, so I'm just taking it again."
"Dude, that sucks!" Charlie exclaims.
I pop my eyebrows and nod. "Yeah, I know. I'm pretty behind in all my classes right now actually. But it's only my first day so hopefully I have a chance to catch up."
"We can help you if you want," Charlie offers. "If you ever want to get together after school or whatever."
I hold up my hands. "Oh, no, that's really not...I mean, you don't have to do that," I begin to protest. "I'm sure you guys have other things you'd rather be doing."
"Nonsense!" Mason denies. "Friends help friends right?"
I blink owlishly at him. "Friends?"
"Yeah! Duh." Mason rolls his eyes. Then he grabs my hand and whips out a pen, pulling the cap off with his teeth. I just sit there and watch as he scribbles two phone numbers on my palm. "There," he says once he finishes, slurring his words as he talks through the pen cap between his teeth. "That's mine, and that's Charlie's. Call us whenever and we can hang out." He pulls the pen cap out of his mouth, slurping as saliva connects his lip to the plastic.
"You have my number memorized?" Charlie asks him. "That's not creepy at all."
I look at the numbers scrawled on my hand, my mind reeling. They seem to notice my hesitation.
"Ariel?" Charlie says. "Everything okay? His handwriting sucks, I know."
I huff a small breath as Mason flicks Charlie in the elbow. "Yeah, everything's fine, it's just..."
"What?" Mason asks. "I can have her write the numbers for you if you can't read them. My handwriting really is shit, I won't be offended."
I shake my head. "No, I can read them, it's just...I've..." I hesitate, biting my lip, and then stop myself. I want to tell them that I've never had friends before, that no one has ever come up and offered their friendship to me like they're doing now. I want to tell them how grateful I am. But I also don't want to scare them away with my sob story. So I shake my head a little. "Never mind," I say, looking up at them and smiling. It's a genuine smile. I don't even have to force it.
"You alright, kiddo?" Mason asks, eyeing me pensively.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I tell him. "Thank you for the phone numbers. I'll save them."
"Cool," Charlie smiles. "Text me so I can have your number too. We should get together soon."
"Yeah, definitely," I smile back, feeling warmth brimming in my gut again. That warmth, however, sizzles and dies when I happen to glance behind Charlie and Mason and see Zane walk into the cafeteria. The gorgeous green-eyed boy isn't alone. The four guys he was with this morning, including the one with the hissing voice who had initially approached me at my locker, are with him.
As I watch them, Zane glances around, and his eyes fall right on me. He stumbles a bit when he sees me, but then the initial surprise on his face glazes over to a cold stare. It's a look that I'm familiar with. A classic don't-get-in-my-way-or-I'll-rearrange-your-face look. I'm used to people looking at me like that. But it's weird on Zane, because I've seen other looks on his face before too, in the short time I've known the guy. He'd hesitated this morning, when his friends were harassing me at my locker. I'd seen him hesitate, and I'd seen the exact moment he'd decided to go along with his friends instead of sticking up for me. Not that I expected any less. No one sticks up for me.
But even if I hadn't seen Zane hesitate like that, I'd seen him yesterday at Hartley's Bend. I'd seen that tiny smile he'd given me as he was walking away. That's not a smile someone just forgets. It was warm, and soft, and endearing, and totally real. It wasn't the snide, fake, mocking smile he'd given me at my locker earlier when he was with his friends.
There's more to Zane than he's letting on—that much is already clear to me.
I don't even know why I care.
Mason snaps in my face a couple times. "You hear me, kiddo?"
I blink, looking at him. "What?"
"I asked if you're gonna eat that," he says, nodding towards my unripe fruit cup.
"Oh, uh, no, you can have it if you want," I offer, glancing at Zane and his boys again. They're in the lunch line, and Zane's back is to me. His broad back...a sexy back...
I shake my head. No. I cannot start lusting after some guy who hangs out with people like the four guys he's with. I know the type. It's already starting, the bullying. I'm a seasoned professional in the field. What happened this morning was minimal at most, being pushed into a locker. But I know from experience that it will escalate. I can't allow myself to have a crush on a dude who hangs out with people like that just because the guy is pretty. And tall. And wears a leather jacket...
No. No attraction there. None.
"Who are those guys?" I finally ask.
Charlie glances back and sees Zane and his friends. "Oh, you don't want to get mixed up with them," she warns, shaking her head, her eyes wide as she sips some apple juice. "They're bad news."
"How so?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.
"They have a reputation," Mason supplies. "That one, Gordon..." He nods his head toward the Hispanic one behind Zane, "He put a guy in the hospital a couple years ago for taking his seat in the auditorium."
"And Ryker there was so mean to this girl Krissy in my physics class, that she's getting counseling now for depression," Charlie says.
"I thought her dad died," Mason says, confused.
Charlie purses her lips, and then shakes her head. "Maybe, but Ryker was a complete dick about it. Didn't help at all."
"What about Zane?" I question.
Charlie raises her thin eyebrows. "You know Zane Peterson?"
"Well, not really," I shrug. "I met his brother yesterday at Hartley's Bend. Zane was there."
"Ah, well, steer clear of him too," she warns. "He's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" I ask skeptically, my eyebrows pressing together.
Mason and Charlie exchange a glance, and then Mason leans forward. "Let's just say that no one gets in his way and lives to talk about it."
Charlie smacks him. "Oh stop being so dramatic!" she exclaims, and then turns to me. "Zane's just got a bad rep like the rest of them. And he's done his fair share of fighting here. He's just not a good guy to get mixed up with."
I peek at Zane again, but his back is still turned. "How do you guys know everything people say is true? I mean, what if Zane's not such
a bad guy?"
Mason chuckles. "You're really carrying the torch for him, aren't you?"
I flush in embarrassment. "No, I don't even know him, I'm just saying..."
Mason nods and waves his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, no, I get it, Zane is an attractive guy, but trust us. He's bad news. If you ever need proof, just check out his hands."
"His hands?"
"His knuckles are all scarred up from all the fights he's been in," Charlie says. "Mason and I have seen a few of them; the guy just likes to beat up on people weaker than him. His friends do it too."
I look up at Zane as he hands the lunch lady a crumpled up dollar bill from his pocket.
"See that guy in front of him? The one who doesn't know the definition of personal space?" Mason asks. I realize he's referring to the serpent guy who approached me at my locker earlier. "That's Slate," Mason says. "He's got this weird obsession with Zane, like a homo crush or something. This girl Lisa tried to ask Zane out last year and ended up in the hospital with a broken nose."
My eyes bug out of my head. "How do you know it was Slate that did it?"
"Everyone knows," Charlie and Mason say at the same time.
I eye them, trying to tell whether they're serious or not. "Wow. This is a pretty intense high school."
Mason chuckles. "This is every high school if you have the right number of scumbags that go there. Trust me, Zane and his gang are not your friends."
I study the boys as they saunter out the back door with their food, heading towards the collection of rocks and cement blocks near the bridge and the river outside where the smokers are. I watch in fascination as all the smokers already gathered there see Zane and his friends coming, and immediately stomp out their cigarettes and scatter, leaving the area free for them.
"Who's the short one with them?" I ask.
Mason glances over. "That's Noah. He's a British exchange student, but I think he lives here permanently now."
I nod, but I can't stop staring at them as they settle on the rocks. Zane lights up a cigarette, and God if it isn't the hottest thing I've ever seen. His cheeks hollow out as he inhales and he's like a walking sex object, even with the crescent bruise adorning his eye.
