by Seven Steps
When he catches me looking, he smiles and claps, celebrating my victory even while my heart is still healing from the death blow he gave it just months before.
Eric Shipman is a liar. No amount of clapping or spying will erase that fact.
I loved him once. He said he loved me too.
But it was all a lie.
Just one big lie.
2
I pull my heavy pink bookbag higher on my shoulder while Sophia Johnson, my best friend for the past two months, shoves textbooks into her locker, leaving her bookbag empty.
“If you keep skipping homework, you’re going to get an F, which means you’ll be cut from the team.”
Sophia gives me a long-suffering, sideways glance. “Okay, Mom.”
“Soph, I’m serious. You have talent, and I don’t want you to waste it because you’re not applying yourself. This team needs you.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I need you.”
She closes her locker and gives me an incredulous look. I instantly feel stupid and preachy for bringing the subject up. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way around Sophia. Every time we talk about her sinking grades she gives me this exact same look. But Sophia’s my friend, and I’m going to keep trying to help her, regardless of whether she wants me to or not. That’s what real friends do, right?
“I’m sorry. Did you say you were sixteen or sixty? Sometimes I forget.”
“Fine.” I put both my hands in the air in an I give up sort of way, but really, I haven’t.
Sophia’s casual attitude about her grades just irritates me. Not that I should be surprised. Sophia is nonchalant about everything. Grades. Boys. Swimming. Come to think of it, I can’t remember a time when she’s ever been serious.
She smiles at me and slides the straps of her backpack on. It hangs loosely on her thin shoulders.
The air in the hallway smells like the inside of a boutique. Fresh, floral, and expensive. I savor the sweet scent and pretend not to see Sophia’s grin.
“Ariel, relax. My grades are fine, and homework is being taken care of.”
My Spidey senses immediately start to tingle.
Taken care of? What does that mean?
“How?”
She slips the round buttons on her plaid petticoat through the buttonholes. “Wally does it for me.”
She says this as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if Jeffery Walowitz goes around doing everyone’s homework.
Um, newsflash. He doesn’t.
“Why would Wally do your homework for you?”
She tugs the car keys from her pocket and presses the automatic starter. I wonder if it works this far away.
“We have an arrangement. He does my homework, and, once a week, I go to his Dungeons and Dragons party.”
My eyes go wide in disbelief. “You play Dungeons and Dragons?”
She shoves her car keys in her pocket and pulls out a pair of black gloves.
“I never said I played. I’m more like that girl at the boxing events who walks around in a bikini and holds up the signs.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I love Sophia, but sometimes she’s a little much.
“Please tell me you don’t wear a bikini to these parties.”
She picks a piece of lint from her coat. “More like a fitted dress. I like to think of it as Dungeons and Dragons, Vegas style.”
Sigh number two escapes my lips, and I pull my attention from Sophia while she begins the arduous task of wrapping her huge scarf around her throat. Seriously, it’s like twelve feet long. I wore it once, and it felt like I was being strangled by a boa constrictor. I pat down my smaller, non-reptilian scarf and look around.
Posters commanding us to “Say No to Drugs” hang in the empty spaces between the lockers. Beneath the slogan, Senator Jennings is wearing a stern, slightly constipated expression. Ever since his son, Kenny Jennings, was turned in for dealing at our school, the senator has practically become the spokesman for the war on drugs. Now, Kenny is at a boarding school somewhere in Switzerland, and we’re forced to look at his dad’s poop face all day.
Sophia is about halfway done wrapping her ginormous scarf around her neck and shoulders, and I tap my fingers on my thigh impatiently. A chilly wind blows through the hallway, and my damp body shivers beneath my dark, wool coat. Although I showered after practice, I didn’t have time to completely dry off. Vanessa and her friends had been sending me death glares ever since practice ended. To avoid yet another altercation with her and her minions, I threw my clothes on my dripping wet body and hurried out the door, pulling Sophia with me. Any other day, I would have stayed and faced Vanessa. But, I am the team captain now, and that comes with responsibilities. I can’t brawl with a member of my team on my first day. I have to be cool. Confident. In control. Restrained.
“We should do something later to celebrate your being elected captain,” Sophia says. By this time, she’s completely bundled up in a hat, scarf, and gloves, all of which perfectly match her brown, plaid coat. “Mom’s got some church thing tonight, which means I’m free and clear to ppp-aaa-rrr-ttt-yyy.” If there was one thing that Sophia loved, it was partying. “Oh, let’s go to the Stamford Club. We can dance with hot guys, have some dinner, dance with more hot guys, have some drinks, then dance with even more hot guys.”
It does sound fun. I haven’t been to a party in months. Not that I don’t want to go. I love parties. The dancing, the low lights, the music. If I could, I’d go out dancing every night. But I can’t. I have swim and school. Plus, there’s my other one-hundred-and-fifty-pound problem.
Duckie.
Asking Duckie, my oldest sister, to let me go out on a school night would just lead to an argument I’m not quite ready for today.
Sophia’s honey brown cheeks are flushed with excitement, and by the way she’s looking at me, I can tell it’s going to be hard to refuse her offer. But I have to.
“Believe me, I’d love to go out tonight, but my sister’s been on me about my grades. She’s instituted a six o’clock lockdown like we’re under martial law or something. It’s insane.”
Sophia’s nose wrinkles, like she smells something foul.
“Seriously? When are you going to tell your sister to back off? She’s not your dad.”
I let out a snort. Sophia’s mother is every bit as strict as my sister. The only difference is her mom basically lives at the church while Duckie watches me and my sisters like a hawk.
“Don’t let her hear you say that.”
“You want me to call her right now and tell her off? Because I will.” She pulls out her phone and pretends to dial.
I laugh and bat her phone away. “Stop it, Soph.” I look around dramatically, then back at Sophia. “She might be listening right now.”
Sophia rolls her eyes.
“You’re being paranoid.”
“You have no idea.”
Duckie has already made it very clear to my teachers that all behavioral or academic issues be reported to her immediately. Plus, there are my two younger sisters who aren’t above exchanging information about me for favors.
After Mama’s death six years ago, Daddy completely checked out. Engulfed in grief, he became a hermit, only leaving his office once a day for a quiet dinner with us. With no one else to take up the reins of parenthood, Duckie took it upon herself to become both mother and father. My three older sisters were already married off to what Duckie called “men of means.” Vincent was a best-selling author and psychiatrist. Christopher was the owner of a nationwide chain of art supply stores. Bradley ran a successful software company. That left Duckie with just the twins and me to look after.
“I’m serious,” Sophia says. “Duckie has no right to boss you around. What is she, like thirty? Tell her to get her own life and to stop butting into yours.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. If I told Duckie to back off, she’d probably implode.
“I’ll come to the next party. I promise.”
S
ophia groans. “You always say that. Why can’t you just sneak out?”
“Because.”
It isn’t a real answer, but it’s all I could think of.
“Come on, Ariel, please take me out tonight.”
She gives me her best puppy dog eyes and, for a moment, I consider breaking Duckie’s rules.
It would be nice to go out and have a good time. To drink and laugh and dance with my friends.
I sigh, feeling myself giving in.
“Sophia, I—”
Suddenly, someone shoves me from the back, and I slam into Sophia’s chest with a shocked yelp. We both tumble to the ground, bags flying, arms and legs splayed.
What the heck?
“You are a sneaky skank, you know that?” Vanessa’s voice comes from above me and my jaw tightens in fury. “Did you blackmail the coach into making you team captain?”
I scramble to my feet and march forward until I’m nose to nose with my nemesis. Her blond hair is pulled into a ponytail that’s so tight, it looks like she had a bad facelift. My fingers itch to grab her hair and yank it as hard as I can.
But I don’t.
I’m the team captain now. I have to control myself. As much as she angers me, and as much as I want to, I can’t fight Vanessa.
I step back and take in a deep breath, struggling to slow my racing heart.
“The team voted for the captain,” I say as calmly as I can. “It was almost unanimous.”
Vanessa grinds her teeth.
“That’s a lie. My girls would never vote for you.” She waves an arm to the five girls behind her who make up half the swim team. Like I said. Minions.
“According to Coach Fish, the only one who didn’t vote for me was you.”
Take that, Vanessa.
“You liar!”
She shoves me again, but this time I regain my balance before falling to the floor. My hands clench, ready to swing, and I shove them in my coat pocket.
Vanessa’s face turns tomato red with fury.
“I’ve been to the Olympics. I should be team captain!”
“Your head is already too big,” Sophia calls from behind me. “If we made you captain, you wouldn’t even be able to fit through the front door.”
One of Vanessa’s friends lunges at Sophia, but Vanessa holds her back.
“We’re not here for little Miss Nobody. We’re here for the fraud.”
Fraud? Really?
“There was nothing fraudulent about the election.” My voice loses some of its calm. I force myself to relax. “Coach Fish, and this team, elected me to be the captain. If you have a problem with that, either leave the team or take it up with the coach.”
Vanessa takes a threatening step forward. She’s a head taller than me, but I stand my ground.
We both know that if we come to blows, the person who makes contact first will be expelled. Pushing and shoving can be ignored. But an open palm or a closed fist cannot.
I won’t allow my anger to get me expelled today.
“Play at being the leader all you want. I’ll never accept a non-Olympian as my captain.”
“So, you’re leaving the team, then?” I ask, my voice regaining some of its strength.
She considers me, then sneers.
“Stay out of my way, Ariel. Or else you’ll end up just like your poor, dead, slut mother.”
My vision blurs. My fingers curl into claws. A crazed, animal sound leaves my throat, and I lunge at Vanessa with a single objective: wrapping my fingers around her neck.
My hands get within millimeters of her face before Sophia yanks me back.
“Ariel, don’t let her do this to you.”
“Let me go!” I scream.
Vanessa’s sneers send my anger into orbit.
“Yeah, Sophia. Let her go. Then we’ll see what she can really do.”
I twist in Sophia’s grip, anxious to be free so I can show Vanessa what happens to people who talk about my mother.
“She’s messing with you,” Sophia hisses. “She’s trying to get you kicked off the team.”
“I don’t care. Let me go!”
Vanessa crosses her arms. “Ooh, I’m shaking.”
No, Vanessa. I’m shaking. I’m shaking with so much rage I can barely see straight.
I stomp on Sophia’s foot.
She releases me with a yelp.
I run toward Vanessa like a bull toward a red cape.
Vanessa’s eyes widen, and she takes a step back.
And then, he’s there, holding me in a vise-like grip.
“Relax, Red. She’s not worth it.”
Eric’s arms are like iron bands around me. I try to buck him off, but he holds me tight.
“Good thing your boyfriend’s here to save you,” Vanessa says. But I hear the way her voice shakes. I’d almost gotten my hands on her, and if I did, I would have ended her right then and there.
No one talks about my mother.
No one.
“Girls, girls. Is there a problem here?”
Mrs. Fleck’s British accent breaks through my anger, calming me down a little. I stop trying to break free from Eric and glare at Vanessa instead.
“Oh, Mrs. Fleck, I’m so glad you’re here.” Vanessa’s voice trembles in mock terror.
God, I hate her.
Her hands go over her heart like she’s a damsel in distress or something.
“I just came over to congratulate Ariel on becoming captain of the swim team and she attacked me like a wild animal. If you didn’t show up, I don’t know what she would have done to me.”
My stomach turns in disgust.
It turns again when Mrs. Fleck’s face goes soft. She’s bought Vanessa’s story, hook, line, and sinker. I can tell by the way she takes Vanessa’s hand and pats it gently.
“Oh, my dear, it’s a shame that such a national treasure like you has to deal with such brutish company.”
A growl leaves my throat, and Mrs. Fleck’s eyes flick to me, as if I’ve just proved her point.
“Why don’t you all go ahead home,” she says. “I’ll make sure Ariel’s father is aware of how she behaves when he’s not around.”
Vanessa smiles at me victoriously.
“Bye bye, Ariel.”
Vanessa and her friends wave at me, then leave through the side door of the school.
Eric releases me, though he’s still standing between me and the door Vanessa has just disappeared through.
Lucky for them.
Mrs. Fleck eyes me as if I have juvenile delinquent tattooed on my forehead.
“Mrs. Swimworthy, I suggest you head home as well. And don’t worry. Your father will be hearing all about this little incident.”
She turns sharply and walks back down the hallway.
My breath slows, and I smooth out my damp clothes. There’s so much adrenaline running through me I can’t keep still. My hands are literally shaking with it.
Sophia turns to me, her eyes still filled with rage. “I hope they all slip on puke.”
I pick up my bookbag from where it landed next to Sophia’s locker.
“I hope it’s warm and chunky,” she continues. “And they land face first with their mouths open.”
The image of Vanessa landing face down in vomit lifts my mood a little.
“That girl’s gonna get what’s coming to her.” Sophia’s honey cheeks are pink now. She scoops up her bookbag and shrugs it onto her shoulders. “I hope we’re there to see it. I’ll be sure to have my camera ready.”
Warmth for my friend fills me. Sophia is the definition of a ride-or-die chick. If I ever killed someone, she’d be there to hide the body, then take me out for ice cream afterward. Her loyalty is one of the things I admire about her.
“You okay, Red?”
Eric, my ex-boyfriend, pushes his hair back from his forehead.
“I’m fine,” I grumble.
I should be grateful he showed up and saved me from expulsion, but I’m not. I wish he’d just
go away and leave me alone.
“You sure?” His blue eyes are studying me closely, as if I’m about to bolt out the door at any second.
“I said I’m fine!”
It feels good to snap at him. To focus on how angry I am with him instead of all the other confusing feelings.
His eyes widen, and he doesn’t speak again until we walk out of the hallway and arrive at Sophia’s car.
“You want a ride home?” she asks. “We can drive by Vanessa’s house and egg it.”
As tempting as that sounds, I shake my head.
“No, thanks.”
I need to cool off before I get home, and a nice, long subway ride on a freezing cold train in the middle of winter will do just that.
Sophia throws her arms around me.
“Vanessa is a hag. Don’t let her get to you. She just wants to get you expelled so she can be the new captain. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
I hug her back, my breath fogging on the cold day. “I know.”
“I’ll pray they all get crabs tonight.”
I snort. Did I mention how amazing Sophia is?
“I don’t think God works that way.”
“Well, it never hurts to try.” She releases me, starts her car, and drives away.
A breeze blows, making me shiver beneath my coat. The cement is dark with freshly melted snow, a remnant of the dusting we’ve had last night.
I fill my lungs with cold air and turn to Eric. He’s all dark hair, bright sky-blue eyes, and full lips I can still feel pressed against my skin. Being around Eric is like being on a wild roller coaster that always drops when you least expect it to. He makes me feel everything at once. Anger. Confusion. Desire. Love. Betrayal. Safety. All the emotions mix and duel within me, making my head spin.
I try to focus on my anger, but our eyes meet, and goose bumps skitter across my skin. Stupid goose bumps. Why, after two months, do I still get all goose bumpy whenever he’s close to me? I’d rather be angry. That’s easy. That’s simple. That makes sense.
“Ready to go?” Half his mouth kicks up in a smile that makes my heart pinch.
When he held me back from fighting Vanessa, I was too hopped up on adrenaline to really notice him. But now that I’m thinking clearly, all of those not so old feelings return. Feelings I don’t want to feel. Not anymore.
