Book Read Free

So Typical

Page 11

by Martha Greenwood


  "Twenty that Bill will cheat on Willow with Ana in exactly five days," Jill said.

  "Twenty-five that Willow will ditch the whole promise ring thing in two weeks," Libby added.

  "Thirty-seven that both of them will cheat in a matter of one month," Katherine said.

  "Damn, you've got a lot of trust in those two," Scarlett smiled.

  "I'm optimistic," Katherine shrugged.

  "Forty-five that they'll stay together forever," Taylor said with a wistful smile.

  "And I'm the optimistic one?" Katherine murmured.

  "I love happy endings," Taylor replied.

  "Scarlett, what do you bet?" Libby asked.

  "Willow is a slut; she'll cheat on Bill within seven days," Scarlett said.

  All of the girls placed their hands in the middle of the table and secured the bet as official. Just then the bell rang, and Francis grabbed Scarlett's hand to lead her to her fifth period class. When they reached the opened door of Scarlett's classroom, Scarlett turned around and leaned against the wall next to the door. She looked up into Francis's eyes and finally asked the question that had been tugging at the back of her mind for a while now.

  "Why did you ask me out?" she whispered.

  "I've always thought you were cute and definitely smart, which was a plus, but I honestly didn't have the courage to go out of my…"

  "Coterie," Scarlett said, but after realizing that he didn't understand the word, she added, "Clique."

  "Yeah, exactly. It was only now, since I'm a senior and pretty much invincible, that I gathered the courage to ask you out. Even if you aren't—I mean, weren't—popular, I wanted to give it a try."

  Everything he said sounded so sincere that she couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. Scarlett went up on her tip toes and connected her lips with his. He moaned into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Their bodies were so close together, and she liked the way she felt almost protected in the embrace of his arms…but something was off, she just couldn't put her finger on it. But she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to ruin this moment with stupid thoughts like that.

  It wasn't until a few minutes later, when Scarlett caught a glance of Tristan's back walking in the opposite direction from her, shoulders slumped, that she had an inkling of what had been off.

  Chapter Nine – The Past Relived

  Lunch had been a disaster. Tristan's attempt at getting Scarlett to tell him about their past had been ruined by Francis. Damn that kid. And then he had caught them making out in the middle of the hallway in clear view of everyone. Get a room. He didn't need to see them chewing each other's faces off. What was with that kid? He hadn't showed the slightest interest in her until just recently, until Tristan had started beginning to have the smallest interest in her. Bam, it clicked. Was that why he had asked her out? Because Tristan liked her? No, that couldn't be it. That was stupid. Another thing that was stupid was the way Tristan was feeling whenever he recalled the images of Scarlett and Francis holding hands or kissing or riding on the back of his big ass bike. Tristan could describe the feeling as…jealousy? But that couldn't be right. He must be mistaken. Maybe he was confusing this new feeling with another emotion. Maybe he was just nervous. Nervous for what though? It must be that really important game where all of those college coaches would be coming to watch. That's what he was nervous about. Or was he?

  English Lit went by in a blur for Tristan. All he could think about today was lab class. He was going to confront Scarlett and demand that she tell him everything about their past during lab. He had a right to know anyways; it was also his past. But how could he have forgotten? If someone held a grudge against someone, the second someone just doesn't forget about what he did to the first someone. But whatever—he was determined to get the information he wanted from her. Even though the last time he had tried unsuccessfully to pull the past out of her, he wasn't about to just give up. He was resolved in finding out what had happened between the two of them. He still couldn't believe that he wasn't able to recall what had occurred, but he honestly couldn't remember for the life of him ever talking to Scarlett in middle school. He remembered being the new kid in eighth grade that everyone had a crush on and that was about it. He also remembered that Scarlett had been slightly popular back in middle school. But what did that have to do with him?

  Finally the bell that signaled the end of English Lit rang. Only a few minutes until lab; only a few minutes until Tristan got the truth out of Scarlett about their forgotten past together. Tristan was uncharacteristically the first student out of the door and to his locker to switch books.

  "Hey, Tris—"

  "No time, Kyle; I gotta go." Tristan rushed passed in a hurry without letting Kyle start up some pointless conversation about football. He was getting quite tired of Kyle's predictability. But instead of heading to lab class just yet, he headed for Scarlett's locker.

  * * *

  "Hey, girl. So how was lunch?" Kate popped up behind Scarlett.

  "Eh, it was all right," Scarlett said with a sly, little smile playing around the corners of her lips.

  "'All right'? What is wrong with you, child? You were sitting at the popular table. You were sitting next to Francis, Kyle, and Tom." Kate's eyes went into their usual dreamy state when Tom's name was mentioned. She had had a crush on him ever since seventh grade when he had accidentally spilt his milk all over her. Scarlett was still bemused as to why that incident had opened Kate's eyes to Tom's obvious cuteness. If it had happened to her—especially back in seventh grade when Scarlett had been the Queen Bee—she would have flipped out and demanded Tom pay for her designer outfit that her dad would have bought for her.

  "I was just kidding. It was actually pretty awesome—"

  "Scarlett?"

  Scarlett turned around to see Tristan standing behind her and Kate. She said nothing because she knew exactly what was coming. Damn, the day had gone by way too fast. She hadn't expected for this conversation to pop up out of the blue so quickly; she had expected a little more time. But she had been preparing herself for it all day. "I'm guessing you're here for the truth?" she finally asked.

  Tristan merely nodded, his eyes slipping to Kate before landing back on Scarlett.

  Kate turned her back on Tristan and looked at Scarlett, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her small mouth formed a little 'o' as her eyebrows scrunched together in complete and utter confusion. She made sure to hold Scarlett's gaze for a long time.

  "I owe him the truth, I guess," Scarlett mumbled the last part, as if she were still unsure of this herself.

  Kate chuckled, "Have fun." And she was off to the lab classroom where she would surely wait, anticipating what Scarlett was about to tell Tristan and how the results went. Scarlett had no doubt in her mind that Kate would want a fully detailed description as to what was about to happen.

  Scarlett took a deep breath. "This might take a while," she said.

  "We can skip lab," Tristan suggested.

  "Um...I don't think so. I haven't missed a class ever since…never. Mr. Ortega said we were working on that project today in class. I'm almost done with it myself, so I'll tell you then." Scarlett shut her locker and headed off to her lab table where she waited for Tristan, knowing that he would surely follow suit.

  She didn't say a word while the class waited for the late bell to ring. She sat quietly and looked up at the board while Tristan continued to stare at her curiously. She was attractive. He couldn't deny it any more than he could deny that popularity meant almost everything to him—almost.

  "Okay, class. Who has started their project on the 'Static Orb'?" Mr. Ortega asked with an enthusiastic smile, but his smile soon disappeared when nobody raised their hands. "Scarlett, you haven't started yet?" he asked appalled.

  "No, sir. I had a lot of things on my mind," Scarlett answered.

  "Okay, well, you all better be happy because I have decided to dedicate this entire class for y
ou guys to get started on it. So you now have forty-five minutes. Begin." And with that said the entire class grumbled and took out their unread, crumpled papers that had the directions as to how to start the project, which their teacher had handed out a week ago. Everybody paired off with their assigned partners and began to work on their neglected project.

  "Why did you lie to him?" Tristan asked her.

  "What we need," Scarlett began, "is a one inch wide PVC Pipe about twenty-four inches long, Mylar tinsel—"

  "Why did you lie to him?" Tristan interrupted her.

  "So that he'll think we are working while I relive my—our past," she finally answered him.

  Damn, she was sneakier than he had originally given her credit for. He would have never thought of doing something like that. He really did underestimate her.

  "We'll also need a head of clean, dry hair, and scissors—" Scarlett began.

  "Nuh-uh, you promised—" he interrupted her again.

  "If I'm going to tell you, you better not make a habit of interrupting me."

  Tristan quietly nodded.

  Scarlett was quiet for a long time, and Tristan saw her eyes glaze over as they entered the past. Tristan quietly cleared his throat to gain her attention.

  "Oh, that's right. I have to actually speak, don't I?" Scarlett feigned a lot of sudden awareness. "Okay, fine," Scarlett took a deep breath, slightly agitated.

  "It started back in eighth grade—"

  XOXOXOXOXOXOXO FLASHBACK XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

  (Four years ago: beginning of 8th grade.)

  Scarlett's life in junior high was perfect. She was smart, pretty, and popular. No one thought of her as a geek or a nerd. Everyone believed her to be the luckiest girl alive, and all the boys wanted her to be his. No one would ever think this gorgeous redhead would ever become a D-lister in high school. But, boy, were they all wrong. But back in eighth grade, Scarlett could walk down the hall and strut passed all of the D-listers as if they didn't exist and not think once that she would soon join them. She had no doubt in her mind that in high school she would be one of the most popular girls there. She had the looks, she had the body, she had the brains, she had pretty, curly hair, and she had the money. But the most drastic difference about Scarlett in eighth grade was that she was completely shallow. She lived in her own little world where she controlled everything that happened. What else did she want or need?

  "Have fun at school, honey," Billy, Scarlett's father, said, kissing her on the forehead.

  "I always do," Scarlett replied, jumping out of her dad's Range Rover. As Scarlett walked up the steps to the school building, a bunch of her friends began to surround her, and she soon was enveloped in the chatter and laughter of her friends.

  "Hey, Scar!" Libby called from her locker.

  "Hey, Libby, how was LA?"

  "Not bad, I guess. I wish you had been there."

  "I bet, but I can't be in two places at one."

  The day continued the way it usually went. Everybody complimented Scarlett's hair, her new shoes, her designer outfit, her professional makeup, et cetera.

  "Oh, my God, you're so lucky!" Libby squealed when Scarlett showed her a picture of the car her dad was going to buy her this year. Sure she was only thirteen, but in three years she was going to be sixteen. And she knew what she was going to be doing when she was that age. SHOPPING! With her best friends, preferably.

  "I wish my dad was as cool as your dad," Vivian sighed.

  "Well, you can't pick your family," Scarlett replied as she twirled her silky ringlet of hair around her finger.

  "Ooooh," squealed another girl, whom Scarlett couldn't remember the name of, "Here comes you-know-who!"

  Scarlett turned her head knowingly as her green eyes landed on her recently new boyfriend, Chance Dean. He was a baseball player with a nice body. His dark brown hair contrasted nicely with his light blue eyes. And every girl was head over heels for him. Except Scarlett. Truth be told, she was totally head over heels for him. Who wouldn't be? But she had to keep her cool whenever he was around. Nobody stayed with a girl who was annoyingly obsessed with her boyfriend. Besides that was how she caught Chance in her sneaky trap. Hard to get. That's how she played it with all of the boys. Granted, she had only had two boyfriends in the past three years. She was pretty picky when it came to boys: athletic, well-built, sparkly eyes, sexy smile, and popular.

  "Hey." Chance smiled as he swiftly sat down next to Scarlett, wrapping his arm around her waist.

  She nodded in his direction and flipped a red curl behind her shoulder as she leaned into him.

  "How's your day been?"

  "Boring. Until you got here." She flashed him a wickedly cool smile.

  "Just what I wanted to hear actually." He bent down to kiss the tip of her nose.

  "Awww. You guys are so cute," Vivian whispered in a hushed voice.

  Chance gave her a side smile that made all of the girls' cheeks fill with blush. All of the girls, except Scarlett. Sure, she was completely smitten with his adorably good looks, but again she had to keep her mellow.

  "So, you're coming over to my house tonight, right?" Chance asked Scarlett.

  "If I can make it. I have a lot of things on the list for tonight."

  "You can't find any time for your boyfriend?" Chance frowned playfully and blinked down at her through his long lashes.

  Scarlett cracked a smile, "Like I said, I have a lot of things to do, but I'll try to make it."

  "I could just come over to your house if you're so busy…" Chance tried.

  Um…hell no. "No can do, daddio," Scarlett said instead. "Parents won't allow it," she lied.

  Her dad would let his little princess do whatever she wanted. He would jump off a cliff for his darling little girl. So he would definitely let her boyfriend come over. Actually, it was Scarlett who never allowed any of her many friends or rare boyfriends over. She didn't want them to find out about him. Him. She loved him with all of her heart, but she wouldn't be able to stand the humiliation that would come if anyone found out about Charles. Sure, he was her half-brother. Sure, he looked up to her. And at home, she acted completely different than how she acted at school. At school, she was…well, to be frank, a bitch. But at home, she was a complete and absolute angel. She helped her brother do his homework, she played with him, she read to him, she drew pictures with him, she made jokes with him, she did everything at home with him. But if someone found out that her brother was mentally challenged, it would be social suicide. Yeah, that sounded like a dick move, but—what can she say—at school she was the female version of a dick. Like she said, she loved Charles, just not at school. It was a love/hate relationship…sort of.

  "Scar, are you going to make the baseball game this weekend?" Chance asked, bringing Scarlett back into the present and out of her reverie.

  "Sure. How many homeruns are you gonna hit?"

  "I'd hit a hundred if you came."

  "Really? That's all I am to you? A hundred?"

  "A thousand?" Chance tried.

  "That sounds better."

  "Anything for my lovie dovie." Chance bent down to kiss her cheek.

  Again the other girls giggled and blushed at the It Couple's shameless intimacy. All in all, Scarlett was the most wanted and desired girl at school. She was the epitome of the popular girl. And she wasn't planning on having it any other way for a while. She expected everything to continue as it was. Her life was perfect, and she didn't expect anything less from it.

  It wasn't until near the end of lunch that anything unwelcoming came Scarlett's way.

  "Scar," Mary Cox, who was three grades below Scarlett, rushed up to her. "There's...someone...in the front room insisting that he knows you."

  "Okay," Scarlett said slowly. Who didn't know her? How was this any different from some random student boasting about how he was best friends with Scarlett White?

  "No, I mean, like, uh…just c'mon," Mary insisted. Scarlett gave Chance a peck on the cheek and then began w
alking slowly out of the cafeteria with her hips swishing from side to side naturally. There were about thirty or so students gathered around the glass door of the front hall. They all wore the same look of puzzlement and bewilderment about their faces.

  "I...talk...with Scarry," said a familiar, slow voice.

  "Oh, no," Scarlett groaned. No, this can't happen. Not now, not here. How had he gotten here? How did he even know what school she went to?

  Scarlett pushed her way through the crowd and with her own eyes saw the horror. A slightly younger boy with big blue eyes and white blonde hair stared back at her.

  "Scarry!" he exclaimed.

  "What are you doing here?" Scarlett asked, appalled.

  "You know him?" Emily asked.

  "Uhh..."

  "Of course...she's...my—"

  "He's a friend of a friend," Scarlett interrupted, grabbing his wrist. "C'mon, Charles."

  She tried desperately to ignore the quizzical stares from her fellow classmates and the loud whispers coming from the mouths of the jealous wanna-bees. This was going to be the buzz of the month. How could she explain this?

  Scarlett marched Charles all the way to the back of the school building outside where it was completely secluded, and no one would find them.

  "What the hel—eck are you doing here, Charles?"

  "I...Why are you...so mad at...me?"

  "I'm not mad," Scarlett said, cooling off a bit. "It's just, you know you're supposed to be home with—" Scarlett gasped, "Where's Barbara?"

  "Momma's...you have to come home now." This time Charles didn't even stutter. His big blue eyes were pleading and worried. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

  "I can't come home now, Charles; I'm at school. Where are Barbara and dad?"

  "Momma and daddy are dead, Scarry, dead…k-killed!" Charles was in tears now.

  Scarlett was shocked into silence. She stood there for the briefest second before she gasped and fell against the wall. She slid down until she hit the ground. Her knees gave out, and sweat was forming at the back of her neck. She must have heard wrong or Charles had to be mistaken. Maybe they were just sleeping, and Charles couldn't wake them up. Maybe they were hungover—not likely. Maybe…maybe…her mind was running out of options. What could have happened that would make them seem as if they were dead, but really they were only sleeping. Drugs? Alcohol? Sleep deprivation? Migraine? But none of those made any sense. Why would both of them be like that at the same time?

 

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