Ex-Factor (Diamond Girls) (9 page)

A twinge of worry squeezed through my chest, and I turned my focus back to the girls. “What accident?” I asked, hand shielding my eyes from the bright sun. “What happened?”

Erin looked to Claire, who sat on the opposite side of the table next to Tayla. “You wanna tell her, or should I?”

Claire, who thrived on gossip and a good story, shook her head and frowned. “No. I’ll let you take this one.”

Judging from the grim look on her face, I knew whatever Erin was about to tell me wasn’t going to be good. The bump at the back of my skull tingled, and I wondered briefly if I was about to learn how Bodie got his scar.

“Bodie’s eighteen. He may be taking some junior classes with us, but technically, he’s a senior. He’s making up the credits he missed when he was out of school last year. He hangs out with the football players because he used to be on the team. He used to be Grant High’s star quarterback.”

My eyes widened in surprise, though I wasn’t sure why. His enormous physical stature suggested he was either some type of athlete, or he worked hard in the gym. Guys didn’t grow muscles like Bodie’s by sitting on the couch eating potato chips. The part about him being a senior was a bit of a shock. I had no idea, and wondered if the extra classes he was forced to take attributed to his foul mood. Extra work would certainly make me a little grumpy.

“Football was Bodie’s thing. He was really good. So good, in fact, there was talk of scouts coming to see him.” She shook her head, disappointment radiating from behind her eyes. “Anyway, his best friend, Jackson Hollwood, was the wide receiver, and together, they pretty much ruled the school.”

Erin paused for a minute and sighed, her shoulders visibly dropping with the forced exhale. “Jackson was also tight with Bodie’s younger sister, Haley. She would have been a junior like us.” She paused yet again, and then shook her head as if she was trying to rid her mind of a bad memory. “Anyway, they were super popular, friendly, and outgoing, and they partied all
the time.”

I couldn’t stop the growing sense of alarm welling inside my chest. Erin’s words lingered in the front of my mind, refusing to be ignored.
She would have been a junior like us.
Would have been. As in Bodie’s sister was no longer with us. Nausea rolled through my gut. Did I really want to hear the rest of the story?

“And that partying…” Erin exhaled a loud sigh as she shook her head. “Well, it finally caught up to them.”

My breath hitched and I leaned forward. “How? What happened?”

“Homecoming. There was a big party at Bodie’s house after the dance. He lives in the unincorporated area of town that’s monitored by the county. The sheriffs are never around, and the city cops never go out there, so there’s no risk of parties getting shut down. Hundreds of kids showed up.”

“It was insane,” Claire piped in with a grim nod.

I jerked my head back, unsure where my surprise came from. All three of them ran in the same circles the popular crowd did, and attended most of the school’s games and events. “You guys were there?” I glanced from Erin, to Claire, then finally to Tayla.

Erin nodded. “We made an appearance, but ended up leaving right away. The amount of booze floating around the place was staggering, and if we’re caught drinking during competition season, we get booted off the cheer squad. It wasn’t worth it to us to hang around.”

Made sense. The three weeks of practice I’d endured gave me a whole new appreciation for the skill and dedication it took to excel in the sport of competitive cheerleading. With all the hard work they put in, I understood why they wouldn’t want to risk it. I nodded, urging Erin to continue.

Erin shook her head, her blue eyes suddenly dark and troubled. “Bodie pulled the ultimate in stupid. He let Jackson drive. They were blitzed and left the party in search of more beer.” She rubbed the palms of her hands together in slow motion and stared at the table, a far off look in her eyes. “Jackson passed out at the wheel, ran off the road, and hit a tree.” She looked up at me, grim-faced and ashen. “Haley was in the truck with them.” Her words hit me like a wrecking ball, and I sat frozen in place, unable to speak.

Claire stepped in and picked up where a now very upset Erin had left off. “None of them had their seatbelts on. Bodie was ejected from the vehicle. He broke his leg in a couple of places, punctured a lung, and suffered some pretty devastating head trauma. Jackson and Haley…” Claire’s face twisted, her lips mashing together as she slowly shook her head. “They didn’t make it. They found Haley’s body pinned benea—”

My hand shot up, and the air in my lungs seemed to fizzle out. “Stop!” I said breathily, unable to listen to another word. Nausea wormed through my gut. My chest felt tight, and my head spun in vicious circles. Too close. What had happened to Bodie, to his sister, his friend,
God,
it was too close, too similar to what happened to my father. The overwhelming sense of loss and guilt I’d felt after my father died came rushing back in a violent torrent drowning me from the inside out.

Out. I had to get out of there. Had to get away before anyone saw me break down again. This time the girl’s bathroom wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to go home, crawl under the covers in my borrowed bed, and lay there, unmoving, unthinking.

I grabbed the remnants of my lunch and stood up from the table, shaking and on the verge of losing my stomach. “I’m sorry, girls. I’m just…” The earth swayed beneath my feet, and I knew the longer I remained, the more of a chance there was I’d have some type of emotional breakdown, be it tears, or even worse, an anxiety attack. “Ugh. I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden.”

Erin narrowed her eyes and scrutinized me. “You do look pale.”

My heart hammered against my rib cage, and my breaths came in quick, shallow pants. I was breaking down, and I was breaking down fast.

Mouth dry, I mumbled a quick apology and fled the table, too worried about the possibility of passing out to be concerned with the fact that it was the second time I’d run from them during lunch. A part of me, the small part that wasn’t currently freaking out, wondered if they’d think I was a total drama queen. The rest of me didn’t care. Getting my ass as far away from school as quickly as possible was my top priority. I’d worry about everything else later.

I bumped into Livvie, who’d been headed my way with a group of her sophomore friends, but continued moving.

“Nev?” she called out. “Nev!”

I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. I’d see her at home later and fill her in then. Right now I had to get away.

The last thing I heard before rounding the student union on my way to the office was Livvie’s angered voice, shouting above the din. “What did you say to her?” followed by an “Oh, my God. You didn’t.”

Chapter Eight

Status update:
Praying for rain…

I sat atop my bed, staring at the navy blue T-shirt Livvie procured for me. The words “Diamond Girl” scrawled across the front in white, sparkly lettering that supposedly glowed in the dark.

Homecoming at Grant High was nothing like homecoming back at my old school. Everyone went to the game, of course, but the dance that followed was casual, instead of formal. Kids went in groups instead of in pairs, and each group wore matching shirts. It felt strange, and different, just like everything else in my life as of late.

I bit my lip and fiddled with the hem of the tee, mulling over a variety of excuses I hoped would somehow get me out of going to both the game and dance.

Livvie breezed out of the adjoining bathroom with a large makeup bag in her hands. “Uh-uh,” she said, casting me a reproving frown. “I know that look. There’s no way you’re backing out of tonight. Homecoming will be fun, and you are most definitely going.”

She shoved my new T-shirt aside and plopped down onto the bed in front of me. Dressed in the same “Diamond Girl” tee and a pair of white, denim capri pants, her hair fell in crimpy waves over her shoulders. The perfect amount of makeup and a whole lot of sparkle accentuated her already pretty face.

“Time to get your glitter on, girl.” The shiny Betsey Johnson bag vomited a staggering amount of makeup onto the bed the moment she unzipped it, and I stared at my cousin, wide-eyed and unsure. “Glitter? You’re going to do that to my face?” I asked, pointing to the twin streaks of dazzling blue that coated her cheekbones.

“You bet your butt I am,” she said with a smile. The Diamond Girls are part of the Spirit Squad at Grant High.”

I raised a brow. “Spirit Squad?”

Livvie fished a clear tube of something that looked like lip gloss and came at my face with it. When I leaned away, she frowned and treated me to a “if you don’t hold still, I’ll cut you” look. “Quit wiggling.” She swiped a line of the clear gloss across my cheekbone. She then pulled out a small container of bright blue glitter and what looked to be an eye shadow brush. “The Spirit Squad is a group of kids who attend all the games and cheer on the teams.”

I flinched as she began patting bits of sparkle onto what I now realized was glue, not gloss. I scrunched up my face. “Isn’t that what the school’s cheerleaders are for?”

She sat back for a moment and regarded me with a mixture of aggravation and disappointment. “Always have a comeback, don’t you? Close your eyes.”

I followed her instructions, and she blew away the excess glitter from my cheek.

“You can open your eyes again.” She went about sliding the glue across my other cheekbone. “To answer your question, yes. The school’s cheerleaders are at every game, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t band together and have fun while supporting our team as well.” She sank back and let out a deep sigh. “Look, I know you’re sad, Nev, and I know Bodie’s story messed with your head. Thing is, you can’t let everything that’s happened stop you from living. Be sad, sweetie. Miss your parents. But get out and live while you’re doing it. That’s what your mom and dad would have wanted for you.”

While Livvie finished painting my face, I sat quietly and marveled at how smart, sensitive, and insightful she was. She was right. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and cool it with the “my life is over” attitude. Livvie, Erin, and the rest of the girls had gone out of their way to include me, had welcomed me into their lives with open arms. The least I could do was plaster a fake smile onto my face and try to play along. No matter how difficult or painful.

The overwhelming pain I’d experienced earlier had dulled into a hollow ache. Bodie’s story, the death of his sister and best friend, Jackson, had dredged up all the emotions I’d drowned in after my father had passed a short three months before. Dr. Frank suggested during our last session that I write down my feelings in a journal, that expelling the hurt and the anger and the guilt on paper would be therapeutic. My initial reaction to this particular suggestion was that it was stupid and would most definitely be a waste of my time. But, for whatever reason, when I’d come home from school, I’d pulled out an empty notebook and started writing.

The words on the page were as stunted and jumbled as the thoughts in my head, but it had felt good to get them out. Though I’d never openly admit it, Dr. Frank had been right. Journaling my feelings had
been therapeutic, and I’d totally be doing it again.

I eventually donned my “Diamond Girl” shirt, a pair of distressed denim shorts, and matching flops. Livvie helped me style my hair into relaxed, beachy waves, and with a quick promise to Aunt Trish to behave and make good choices, we left the house to meet Erin and the girls at the football field.

***

The late afternoon sun blazed high in the sky, casting an enormous shadow off the bleachers we sat on, consequently blinding anyone without a pair of sunglasses on the visitor’s side of the field.

I’d gone to a few football games during my sophomore year, but none as packed and rowdy as Grant High’s homecoming game. Homecoming was exciting no matter what school you went to, but this year especially so, as our Spartan boys were up against their cross town rivals, the Douglas High Jaguars. Evenly matched, the teams often went back and forth, winning a game, then losing the next.

Livvie and I had arrived at the school shortly after halftime during the JV game, anticipating a crowd. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the three-ring circus I currently found myself in. Parking had been non-existent, and I’d been forced, much to my dismay, to leave my precious baby armed and out of view along one of the many side streets lining the school.

People of all ages, shapes, and sizes lined the sidewalks in front of and alongside the school, all impatiently waiting to buy their tickets to the big game. The Spartans and the Jags were the pride of Indigo Falls, and it seemed the entire town had come out to watch them duke it out on the field.

The greasy scent of fried food and buttery popcorn assailed my senses as we passed the Spartan Snack Shack. My mouth watered, though I was far from hungry. Ignoring my body’s baser urges, I trailed Livvie, and took a seat alongside her at the far end of the bleachers to the left of the band. While most of the stands held a mixture of parents, students, and inebriated alumni with potbellies and receding hairlines, the section we’d planted our butts in contained mostly high school kids decked out in various degrees of spirit gear.

A handsome blond boy, who I recognized as the varsity team’s kicker, snagged the open space alongside Livvie and began chatting her up. The tinge of pink coating my cousin’s cheeks along with her high-pitched giggle told me she liked the guy. I focused my attention on the field, doing my best to give their conversation some privacy. I hoped Erin and the girls would show up soon. I hated being a third wheel.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I fought the urge to groan. Eli had sent me two more messages after his initial text during History earlier that morning, and I was at my wit’s end. I was also no longer being nice to him for Erin’s sake. I clenched my jaw as I thought about our digital conversation.