They were both decked out in dresses and Suzie had even let Margo do her hair so her crazy curls formed a sort of crown around her head. She looked pretty, they both did.
But only Suzie was speaking to me, at least directly.
“It’s the least he can do,” Margo muttered around a mouthful of hair pins.
I stiffened at that. Having someone talk about me while standing right in front of me wasn’t fun, but I’d gotten used to it as it was the only way I was currently able to communicate with one of my two best friends.
“Will me going to this dance make you a little more likely to forgive me?” I asked.
I didn’t really expect an answer but Margo spun around and faced me with a frown. “It’s not me you need forgiveness from right now, Matt. It’s Julia.”
“Julia.” I blinked in confusion. “Julia…Farrow?”
They both shot me a wide-eyed stare that seemed to imply I was an idiot. It was a look I’d gotten used to these days. I saw it often. “Okay, what did I miss?”
Suzie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are so oblivious sometimes.”
“Julia was tagged,” Margo said.
“Julia was tagged? For what? Did she have a hair out of place or something?”
Suzie shot me a withering look. “Where have you been that you didn’t hear about this? It happened yesterday afternoon.”
“Yesterday I was at the newspaper, and today I had an issue to get out,” I said. “It was deadline day.” As the editor-in-chief of our high school newspaper I ended up getting out of the majority of my classes on deadline day. Most teachers were understanding of the fact that I had a job to do with almost no time to do it. Every one of my reporters handed their stories in either late or at the very last minute. Still, I loved the job. Especially these days when hanging out with my friends was more stressful than fun.
“It’s been all over social media,” Margo said.
I stared at her in disbelief. “I’m off social media, remember? You were the one who imposed that punishment.”
She set her fists on her hips and faced me squarely. “I didn’t force you to do anything. I merely suggested that you take some time off from social media to think about what you’ve done.”
“You are going to make a great mother one day. Do you know that?”
She huffed but Suzie laughed, and for one moment things almost felt like normal between us.
“You should apologize to Julia tonight,” Margo said.
Moment over.
I scratched my head, trying to contain my frustration. “Why exactly am I apologizing to her?” I turned to Suzie. “And what did she get tagged for? Seriously, the girl is perfect.”
She was more than perfect. She was impossibly perfect. Unfailingly kind, unerringly courteous, the girl was too good to be true. Did I mention she was beautiful, to boot? Not just pretty or cute…the girl was hot. Stunning in a supermodel sort of way.
She was too good for any of the guys at Grover, yet she had the modesty not to flaunt that fact. Her modesty was overkill, in my book. She didn’t get to be beautiful, popular, athletically inclined, smart, and a candidate for sainthood. It was just too much. Which was exactly why I didn’t buy it. No one was that perfect, not even Julia.
“She was outed as a closet comics geek,” Suzie said.
I stared at her for a full second waiting for her to laugh at her own joke.
She didn’t laugh. Neither did Margo.
“Wait,” I said. “Seriously?”
They both gave me very serious looks. I sat there trying to imagine Julia Farrow reading anything and failed. I couldn’t even imagine her reading her school assignments. Reading, in general, seemed far too human for the perfect pod-person that was Julia Farrow.
“Comics,” I repeated, as if that would help me to see it. Nope. Still couldn’t envision it.
“Apparently she’s really into them,” Suzie said. “Like, she dresses up and everything.”
I blinked so rapidly one of my contacts almost popped out. I’d been trying to switch from glasses to contacts lately but it wasn’t really working for me. Or maybe I just wasn’t used to them yet. Either way, I had to tone down my shock or lose a lens.
“And someone posted a picture?” I said.
Margo’s expression turned murderous. “I’ll give you one guess who.”
I groaned. “Cara Snyder.”
“Bingo.” For a half a second there Margo actually made eye contact with me without glaring. Progress!
“So, if Cara is the one who embarrassed her, why exactly am I the one apologizing?”
Wrong question. Margo’s glare returned in full force. “Because all of this is your fault.”
“Margo,” Suzie said quietly, a warning tone in her voice. “He made a mistake and he’s sorry, but you can’t blame him for Cara’s actions.”
Margo’s pursed lips said she didn’t feel the same. And honestly, a little part of me agreed. “She’s right,” I said to Suzie. “I started this stupid thing, the least I can do is own up to it.”
While I had admitted my guilt to Suzie and Margo, and I was pretty sure they’d told their boyfriends, I hadn’t exactly admitted my guilt to the world at large.
“You don’t need to own up to everything,” Margo finally said. “No one wants to see you get beaten up by Joel’s crew. But, you do need to make things right with Julia. Or, at least…try to be her friend.”
Me. Friends with Julia. The thought was laughable. So laughable I couldn’t even bring myself to laugh. “You want me to be friends with her?”
Margo sighed and she really did sound a lot like my mother. “Just be nice to her, Matt. The girl is going through a tough time.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be very nice to her on Monday.”
“You’ll be nice to her tonight.” Suzie half turned in the chair as Margo stabbed her with another pin. “You promised you’d come to the dance with us tonight, remember?”
Crap. I did remember making that promise but I’d been hoping they wouldn’t remember. Dances were a new thing for the three of us. This year’s homecoming was the first time any of us had gone to one, and that had only been because Margo, AKA band geek extraordinaire, had been crowned homecoming queen.
Long story.
Anyway, after that we’d made a pact that we’d go to these stupid senior events together. I’d sort of thought that our situation had changed now that they were each paired up with two of the most popular guys in our class. Neither of them needed me tagging along.
“We’re going as friends, remember?” Suzie said. She arched her brows meaningfully. It meant a lot to her that the three of us stay tight, despite our issues.
I looked to Margo, expecting her to either give me the cold shoulder or another stern scowl. Instead she looked hesitant as she reached for Suzie’s brush. “You should come.” She said it quietly and without anger and it might have been the nicest thing she’d said to me in months.
No, it was definitely the nicest thing she’d said to me in months.
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “I’ll go.”
Some tension eased out of the room but I wasn’t exactly happier for this new decision. Now I was stuck spending my Friday night watching my best friends make out with their boyfriends on the dancefloor while I…oh man.
While I made nice with Miss Perfect.
Chapter Four
Julia
“You’re breaking up with me?” My voice sounded shrill in the empty hallway outside the gymnasium-turned-makeshift dance floor.
Ryan ran a hand through his hair and looked around like someone might pop out from behind the corner and save him from this awkward encounter.
“I just don’t think it’s working out between us.” He didn’t even make eye contact. The coward looked over my shoulder as he spoke.
“Since when?”
“I’ve been feeling this way for a little while,” he said, his voice just as vague as his words.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed because he still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Yup.”
“Uh huh. And you thought that this might be the best time to tell me,” I said. “On Valentine’s Day, during the dance that I organized.” My voice was nicely calm but that simmering rage was threatening to rise up again.
I swallowed convulsively and drew in a deep breath through my nose. If I hadn’t cried over yesterday’s humiliation, I definitely wouldn’t give in to the urge to scream right now.
He gave a little head bob. “Yeah, sorry about the timing, but…” He shrugged as if to say what can you do?
What could he do? The poor guy was likely just following orders. I’d seen him talking to Cara earlier tonight. I’d also seen him talking to a smirking Joel. I’d been playing the popularity game long enough to know a coup attempt when I saw one—I just never thought I’d be the target.
Not to sound conceited, but I’d always been popular. But I’d never been the type to fight for it. I’d never had to. Cara and the others might have had their clique struggles back in middle school but I’d stayed out of it.
I was stunned, to be honest. I’d known Cara could get jealous of me at times. She’d never hidden her claws from me, but we had a sort of friendship between us. A mutual respect, at least.
Or so I’d thought.
Maybe I was an idiot because I really never thought she’d try to take me down.
Embarrass me, maybe. Try to prick a hole in my image, perhaps. But not actively go after me like this—taking my boyfriend, my friends… What next? Was she going to try and take my spot on the cheer squad?
The thought brought with it a fresh wave of anger, but once again I breathed through it as I gave Ryan my most charming smile. “I understand.”
“You do?”
I didn’t.
But I knew that fighting him on this would do no good. I’d only look pathetic. Besides, did I really want a boyfriend who could be so easily manipulated?
Definitely not.
He nodded toward the gymnasium, looking like someone was torturing him. “Do you, uh…do you want to go back inside?”
My smile faltered. And face the witch who was currently trying to sabotage my whole life? “No, but thanks. I think I just need a minute.”
He gave me a small smile that was more like a grimace, then he bolted.
The moment he was gone I could breathe normally again. I turned to face the wall and pressed my forehead to the cool tile. Thankfully I was alone. I hadn’t been lying to Ryan, I definitely needed a minute.
Don’t panic. You can fix this.
But it wasn’t so much panic that had tears stinging my eyes. It was anger. My well-ordered life that I’d worked so hard to build was shaking. It hadn’t crumpled yet, but I still felt off-balance. And all because of one stupid photo.
“Are you all right?”
A guy’s voice behind me had me standing upright and spinning around to face the speaker.
Matt Cartwright.
Excellent. Some guy I barely knew was currently crashing my one minute of reprieve.
I smiled.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
Oh. Right. He’d asked me a question. I nodded furiously. “Of course. I’m great.”
“Great,” he repeated. He didn’t look convinced. He also didn’t walk away.
Wonderful. This guy had never so much as spoken to me before but now he wanted to have a chat. Great timing, guy. Great timing. “So, are you, uh…” I waved toward the gym. “Are you having fun?”
“Not really.” I caught a flicker of amusement in his expression before he resumed serious mode.
No, he wasn’t just serious. He was concerned.
Ugh, this was so not what I needed right now.
“Sorry to hear that,” I said, starting to edge toward the gym myself. I might not be alone there but at least I wouldn’t have to face this guy’s weirdly intense scrutiny.
“It’s not your fault,” he said. He kept pace with me as I moved toward the door.
“Actually, it might be,” I joked. “I planned this thing.”
He nodded. “In that case, you’re right. I blame you for my bad evening.”
I gave the same fake laugh I used with my father’s old men parishioners who refused to let me leave the church without bombarding me with bad dad jokes.
“So,” he said in a tone that was overly casual. “Who’s to blame for your bad night?”
Ryan. Cara. Every girl on the cheer squad. Take your pick. “No one,” I said with a giant grin that hurt my cheeks. “I’m having a great night.”
He drew his brows together as he studied me, his hands in his pockets like I was some sort of art piece on display at the museum. Julia Farrow: Portrait of a Cheerleader. My mind turned this moment into a comics frame. The perky cheerleader morphs into a painting, a caricature of herself—a blonde, curvy nightmare with a garish grin. Meanwhile, the nerdy guy standing in front of her becomes a snobby art critic who’s stroking his goatee.
My brain did this a lot, turning everyday scenarios into illustrated frames.
And no, I wasn’t insane. It was just a way to turn boring, hum-drum reality into something interesting
“You’re so good at that,” Matt finally said. He spoke so quietly it was like he was talking to himself.
“Good at what?”
“Lying.” His tone was so blasé I thought I might have misheard him, but I knew what I’d heard. I stopped shuffling toward the door, turning to face him head-on as my jaw dropped. After a second of sputtering, I managed, “Excuse me?”
He just blinked.
“Did you just call me a liar?”
He gave a funny little grimace. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He looked around like maybe he’d been caught. “Um, I actually came out here to apologize but I think maybe I’m going about this all wrong.”
“You think?” I was still staring at him in dumbfounded shock. No one had ever called me a liar to my face before. Ever.
He rubbed the back of his head and gave me an apologetic wince that was frustratingly similar to Ryan’s. My gut tightened painfully at the memory and a rush of angry heat had me drawing in a long, deep breath. “I don’t need to hear any more apologies today.” That…wasn’t what I’d meant to say. I looked down at the floor and cursed inwardly. If he would just give me a minute—one stinkin’ minute—I could regain my composure. I just needed to be left alone so I could breathe. There was a fire inside of me that needed to be calmed, and I just needed some time.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure a lot of the crap you’re dealing with right now is my fault.”
My chin jerked up at that and I met his apologetic gaze. “Excuse me?” I said again.
“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology because…you know that whole hashtag thing?” He gave me a questioning look as if maybe I wasn’t familiar with this ‘hashtag thing.’ As if maybe I hadn’t just had that hashtag thing shoved in my face.
“I’m aware of it,” I said mildly.
His lips twitched up a bit but he sobered quickly. “Yeah, well, you see…”
I shifted from foot to foot. His uneasiness was making me uneasy.
And angry.
Let’s face it, I hadn’t really stopped being angry since Cara had knowingly tried to sabotage my whole freakin’ life.
“The thing is…” he said.
His silence was killing me. I bit back a sigh. “Just spit it out.”
His eyes widened a bit at my not-so-pleasant tone. Don’t like it? Tough. That’s what you get for interrupting a girl who’s just been dumped when she’s trying to take a freakin’ moment to chill!
I clenched my fists at my side but I managed to hold my tongue.
His ch
est rose and fell as he took a deep breath. Seemed I wasn’t the only one who needed to chill. When he spoke he spit the words out on one long exhale. “So the thing is, I was actually the one who submitted that photo on the first day of school so it was really my fault that the geeks gone wild hashtag got started in the first place.”
I stared at him as my brain tried to process that. “I thought it was Joel.”
He nodded and gave a sheepish shrug. “A lot of people did.”
“Y-you started all this?”
He nodded, his dark eyes meeting mine as though he were waiting for a reaction.
I swallowed. And then I swallowed again. It was his fault. I studied him like I’d never seen him before. In some ways, maybe I hadn’t. I mean, I’d been going to school with him since forever but right now it felt like I was meeting him for the first time.
My mind raced to piece together everything I knew about him as I took in his brown shaggy hair that curled a little too much to fall flat, the straight as an arrow nose that was just a little too big for his face. He wore it well, though. It gave him a sort of aristocratic look that went with his overwhelmingly know-it-all vibe. He had the air of a hipster who looked down on the rest of the world, and he probably took great pride in the fact that he didn’t pay attention to his clothes or his haircut.
My nostrils flared as if I could actually smell his sanctimonious judgment. He might have come out here to apologize but not out of the kindness of his heart, and not because he actually cared about me.
My bet? He hated me, just like he probably hated every person in this school who wasn’t considered a geek or a loser.
It was there in the way his lips were pressed into a thin line, like he was doing his duty, but not out of respect for me. This was all about him.
Someone probably put him up to it.
Margo, maybe. I’d always liked Margo. She was one of the few people in this school who honestly didn’t seem to care what other people thought of her.
I did, and I didn’t try to deny it.
This guy? He fell somewhere in the middle. He cared what people thought but he told himself he didn’t.
Once Upon a Comic-Con: Geeks Gone Wild #3 Page 3
