Perfectly Flawed (32 page)

“He’s saying that even though you’re a great
lay, you’re as crazy as everyone thinks.” My mouth drops open. “I’m
sorry, Joey, if I had known that he’d do something like this, I’d
never have pressured you to go out with him.”

The tears begin to well, threatening to fall.
I’ve heard some stories about me. None of them were true. But there
was nothing like this. No one ever said anything like that
before.

“You didn’t pressure me to do anything,
Kennie,” I tell her. It’s true. This was my own idea, my own
mistake. I willingly let him into my life and look what I have to
show for it. “It was my mistake.” A mistake, indeed.”

“ZEPHYR!” I hear someone down the hall
yell.

Oh, crap…

“Just leave it alone, man!” Avery yells from
the end of the hall. The other voice must’ve been Jackson.

That’s not going to end well.

Not at all.

I start to run toward the voices, hoping to
catch Zephyr before he does anything stupid. Kennie and Harley
follow behind me. I find him as he pushes his way through the
crowd, trying to get to his main destination. If it was possibly,
he has murder in his eyes.

With Zephyr, anything’s possible.

I literally bump into Avery, stumbling until
he catches me. “Where is he going?” I ask, trying to keep up with
him. I can’t see him through the crowd; all I can see are
faces—faces everywhere—and none belonging to Zephyr.

“He saw Ryder walk down here,” Avery tells
me, letting Jackson ahead of him. He turns to me, stopping me.
“Joey, I’m sorry for what Ryder’s saying about you. We all know
it’s bull.”

I nod. I can’t speak. I just need to get to
Zephyr. That’s for whom I’m worried.

“ZEPHYR!” I call when I see his familiar
brown hair through the crowd.

“Hey, Harrison,” I hear Zephyr say. I push my
way through the crowd, catching a few elbows here and there.
Everyone knows there’s about to be a fight and everyone wants to
see it. It’s been a long time coming between these two.

I see that cocky smile flash on Ryder’s
perfect face. This would be the perfect time for me to wipe it
away, but this isn’t about him, it’s about Zephyr and preventing
him from doing something stupid, like shoving Ryder’s face through
a locker.

Smugly, Ryder says, “Hey, Zephyr, what brings
you down here?” His friends start laughing. “Ooh, you look a little
mad.” The jackass can’t help but taunt him. He disgusts me.

“Zephyr?” My breathing calms and I want to
reach to him. He’s so close, I could touch him, I could and pull
him back to me, I could reach him… Avery gently grabs my arm,
pulling me back toward the crowd and out of harm’s way, preventing
me from stopping what’s about to happen.

Zephyr doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.
His fist connects with the left side of Ryder’s face so hard, the
sound echoes down the hall. The crowd emits a depressing groan when
Ryder’s head snaps back, banging loudly off the locker.

“That’s for taking her out.” I’ve never heard
Zephyr so angry—it’s terrifying but I still struggle against Avery
knowing I can calm him down. He punches Ryder in the stomach,
causing Ryder to double over in pain. “That’s for the crap you’re
spreading about her.” Ryder leans back against the lockers for
support. His friends deserted the moment Zephyr landed the first
punch. They’re smart if you ask me. With one more punch, straight
to that perfect nose, Ryder’s on the floor, moaning and groaning
like a little baby. “And that’s for even
thinking
that she’d
be dumb enough to
actually
sleep with you.”

“ZEPHYR!” I scream.

He’s standing over Ryder, his body heaving up
and down, his fists tightly clenched, as he stares down at the heap
of Ryder at his feet. I yank my arm free from Avery’s grip and walk
over to my friend, placing my hand—because I apparently have my own
death wish—on his shoulder. He turns, chocolate eyes turned black
from anger and fury, until he notices me. Then something in him
shifts and he’s calm. Somewhat.

“I think you broke my nose,” Ryder squeals,
much like a pig, from the floor, crying like a little bitch I might
add. His hands, which were of no use to him, cover his nose, both
turning red from the blood gushing from his face.

From the silence, I hear, “Hit him again,
Zephyr!” Harley’s excited voice pierces through the noise. I can
see her bouncing up and down between Kennie and Avery. She’s
enjoying this far too much.

I try and hold in my laughter, failing as I
see Harley—so excited—and Ryder—so defeated.

“What is going on here?” Mrs. Taylor, a
freshman English teacher asks from outside the gathered crowd. She
pushes her way through, most students scattering. Others wait to
see the repercussions of what happened between Zephyr and Ryder. I
don’t leave Zephyr’s side. I can’t.

Now I know Zephyr will get suspended for
protecting me.

Again.

It’s Bobby Logan all over again.

He can’t go down alone for this, not again.
Without rethinking it, in front of Mrs. Taylor, I reel back my
foot, and aim for the only place Ryder has left open—
stupid
boy
.

It’s sad because he should be protecting that
little
area most of all. Especially in front of me.

My foot connects with Ryder right below the
belt and he lets out the loudest, highest pitched scream I’ve ever
heard. He instantly grabs for his jewels but I know it’s no use. I
can’t help the laughter bubbling from me, neither can Zephyr or the
rest of the crowd.

That should teach him not to mess with me, or
any other girl, again.

“Josephine Archembault, Zephyr Kalivas,
principal’s office,” she demands. Her arms wave wildly in the
direction of the main office. “NOW!” she yells when we haven’t
moved. “Avery and Jackson, please take Ryder here to the nurse’s
office,” she instructs, pointing to Avery and Jackson. “And if the
rest of you didn’t know, that was the bell; you’re
all
late
for class.”

Slowly and begrudgingly, Zephyr and I make
our way to Principal Grady’s office, taking up the two
uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk. He sat behind the large
oak monstrosity that took up half the room, his hands folded
together, as he stares at the both of us.

“What brings you both to my office?” he asks
us, acrimoniously. Neither of us speak. “What? Cat got your
tongues. Lucky for you, Mrs. Taylor already called and filled me in
on the situation at hand, here.” He grabs the two file folders from
the corner of his desk. He pulled those from his file cabinets
before we got here and was waiting for the big reveal. “First
period hasn’t even begun,” he tells us. I have to suppress my
giggle but Zephyr remains expressionless, a stone among us.
“Josephine Archembault—4.0 grade point average, AP classes, tutor,
orchestra—I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“No, sir,” I respond quietly, trying to be
polite to authority.

“I guess there’s a first time for
everything,” he tells me before he switches folders. “And Zephyr
Kalivas. Your GPA isn’t stellar, it’s not bad, but your football
performance is spectacular, made the starting varsity lineup your
freshman year.” He keeps rambling off facts about both of us. “I’ve
never seen you here before, either. But tell me this, Mr. Kalivas,
why did you punch your teammate hard enough to break his nose?”

Zephyr doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look
to Principal Grady. God help him, he just stares out the window at
the student parking lot.

“Well, I know you didn’t just go into a blind
rage,” the Principal begins. “That wouldn’t account for why Miss
Archembault here kicked him…” he trails off, pausing, his face
twisting in confusion. “Where, dear?”

“South of the border, sir.”

Is it wrong how proud I feel?

He winces, no doubt having dealt with
injuries there himself in the past. “Now, why did you do that, Miss
Archembault?”

I shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the
time.” Zephyr looks over to me, puzzled, his brow knit.

“I’ll have to call parents,” Principal Grady
tells us. He catches himself and adds, “And guardians,” for my
benefit. “Just tell me what happened and the suspensions won’t be
that long.”

“Suspension?” I might be suspended? That
little thought never crossed my mind.
Suspended?
“As in
gone? From school? Like, away?”

“Yes, suspension,” he answers, leaning back
in his leather chair.

“But I’ll miss tests,” I mutter, dazed.
Oh, I feel lightheaded
. He knows my GPA; he knows how this
will affect me. That’s a lot of work that I can’t successfully make
up. This would ruin me. It would destroy my chances of keeping my
4.0. “And homework assignments and notes.” All the notes that I’d
miss. Oh, no.

“She really had nothing to do with this,”
Zephyr suddenly blurts—it’s the first time he’s spoken since the
fight—leaning forward in his chair to connect eyes with the
principal. “Don’t punish her. I’ll take the suspension, however
long you want to make it.” He’s nearly begging. “Sir,” he adds for
good measure.

“Tell me what happened, kids,” the Principal
offers. “I can’t make any promises but I’ll try and see what I can
do.”

Of course
, I want to say.

Instead, I start talking about the fight in
the hall, telling him what I can without going into more detail
than necessary. Ryder spread a rumor about me—I even told him what
the rumor was—and that Zephyr, as one of my best friends, was
defending my honor. The kick was just for good measure.

In the end, I got detention—for the first
time in my life—for the next two weeks. I can handle that. Zephyr
gets suspended for the week and detention for the following week.
Even Ryder got two weeks detention, with a different teacher, and
that made me smile. He even got a two-game suspension.

“We can’t have students spreading rumors
about other students,” Principal Grady tells us. “Especially rumors
of that nature.” He signs two slips of paper. “Mr. Kalivas, I know
that you were only looking out for your friend, and Miss
Archembault, I know that you’re having a bad morning, but violence
is never, ever the answer, okay?”

I nod. Zephyr shrugs.

The principal excuses us from his office, me
to second period because I missed first, and Zephyr home.

***

The rest of the day is a blur—a giant hazy
blur. Some people, mostly the people that never liked me to begin
with, still laugh at me when I pass in the hall. These are the ones
that like to believe everything they hear about the
freak
.
Then there are the people that praise me for what I did. This is a
smaller number than the first group. Some girls give me a thumbs up
or attempt to high five me when they pass me in the halls, they’re
proud of me for showing Ryder Harrison a thing or two. Really, the
only thing I showed him was the underside of my back Converse low
tops. And, if anything else, I taught him not to make up stories
about people, not to spread rumors about girls, and not to leave
himself—
ahem
—open when the girls he’s spread the vicious
rumor about is able to hit the family jewels.

I stop by AP Euro to see about the notes I
missed. Lucky for me, Mr. Cheney likes me. No, not like that. He
likes me as a student; I’m kind of the perfect one. I always hand
in my homework on time or earlier if I can—which I normally do—I’ll
help or tutor struggling students that want the help, I’m always
the first to raise a hand for tough questions, and I rock at
presentations of any kind.

Mr. Cheney hands me a copy of the notes,
something he doesn’t do for just anyone, and a spare copy for me to
take to Zephyr.

Is he even aware that Zephyr has been
skipping his class for the past two weeks?

“I’ll make a copy of the notes for him
daily,” he tells me, rubbing a hand over his gleaming, baldhead. I
open my mouth to tell him that Zephyr can always borrow my notes
but he cuts me off with, “It’s not a problem for me, Joey, and you
won’t have to worry about losing your notes to another
student.”

If only he knew that with Zephyr living next
door, the room across the alley, there’s never a chance to lose
anything that I lend him. I know where he’d keep it.

PE isn’t fun, especially with the boring
mile, without Zephyr. Today, I’m keeping pace with Harley, barely
running, so we can easily talk.

“I heard that Ryder had to go home,” she says
with a huff. We’re jogging but it’s still difficult for her. You’d
think by now that she could run this. “Zephyr definitely broke his
nose and it’s New Year’s for him.”

I’ve never heard that before.

“What?” I ask, slowing down my stride to
better suit my friend.

“He’s waiting for his balls to drop,” Harley
tells me with a snort.

I snort right along with her.

“I don’t even want to think about that
idiot’s balls,” I growl through clenched teeth. If I see Ryder—just
see him, he doesn’t even need to breathe in my direction—I will
punch him myself. Or castrate him. The latter seems like the better
option. “Or any part of his vile anatomy.”

“Are you ever going to tell me about that
party?” she asks, slowing down around the corner when we disappear
from the coaches’ sight. I drop to a walk, something we’re not
allowed to do, but I don’t really care.

“No,” I answer, stopping to stretch. I don’t
want to run anymore, I just want to stand and stretch my legs until
class is over.

“That bad, huh?” she asks breathlessly,
stopping to stand next to me. Harley hates stretching so she only
watches me.

“You’ve no idea,” I mutter, adding a roll to
my eyes. I can’t tell her what really happened. She’d go all Rambo
on Ryder’s ass. Now, as much as I’d like to see that, I’m not
really in the position to see all of my friends get suspended for
defending me.