PINELIGHTforkindle (4 page)

Even though her speech had been off the wall, there was a bit of truth behind it. He did wear sunglasses, every day—even when it was overcast. His pupils were dilated every time his glasses were off, which wasn’t very often. He did have strange and unusual behavior. And last night, he didn’t make a lick of sense.
Could it be drugs?
Maybe he did smoke pot. Surely I would have noticed something as obvious as that.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. He’s not that type.”

“Well, you never know. You need to stop putting him on a pedestal, girl. He’s only human—a hot human, but still just human. And there are plenty more where that came from.” She said this with such assurance that I almost nodded in agreement.

The rest of the drive was filled with Jean making random statements about Erik and other boys at our school—trying to make me feel better. In some sense it helped, but it kept my mind on the night before. By the time we had made it to the school parking lot, she had reminded me of all the bad breakups and relationships in our school. She ventured off a few times, referring to relationship issues in movies like
Ten Things I Hate About You
and
When Harry Met Sally
. She had a knack for relating real life to chick flicks—another quality I loved about her.

She made a few more attempts to extract information from me as we walked down the halls to class. I never budged.

“You know I’m nosy. I’m gonna wonder what happened all day—and we know I’ll eventually get it out of you. So”—she paused for dramatic effect—“you should tell me now. That way we both feel better.”

“Bye, Jean.”

“Fine. I’ll see ya at lunch. And don’t you try to skip out on me. I know all your hiding spots,” she said with a cheesy smile.

“Okay, see ya.”

Every eye in RRHS was glued to me in class.

Aside from the initial shock from Erik hanging around me, this was the most attention I had ever gotten at school. I could hear Erik’s name brought up in the wispy conversations from the back of my chemistry class, followed by my name and a quick glance from the clones.

I heard laughter erupt from the back of the room, and I looked over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of Lydia. Lydia was the girl who everyone wanted to be seen with at our school. To adults, she seemed innocent enough—always smiling, answering politely with
yes, ma’am
and
no, ma’am
, turning homework in on time—but to any student who didn’t idolize her, she was a vicious, rumor-spreading witch.

On the back row, Lydia’s long legs were stretched in the aisle so that they were accessible for every guy in the room to view—including Mr. Buckster, our perverted chemistry teacher. Every guy seemed to be taking advantage of the open viewing. Today, her long bleach-blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with a maroon ribbon that matched her short cheerleading uniform. Even in a quick glance I could see her lashes flutter and her smile widen as she whispered to Rachel, her brunette clone. I could only imagine what rumors they were already spreading.

I had readied myself for the whispers and the nosy questions—the strange looks and the possible rumors. I maintained a calm and relaxed composure all throughout chemistry and Spanish. I even managed to force a fake smile or two along the way. But there was one thing I hadn’t expected. One thing I couldn’t have prepared for.

It happened at lunch.

I went to lunch as usual, but the cafeteria was colder than usual—whiter than usual. Eyes watched me enter the cafeteria and followed me through the lunch line. They were the eyes of a group of girls sitting near the salad bar, a group I recognized. The
posh
group. The
better than thou
group. The stuck-ups. The clones. And their queen, Lydia, and her sidekick, Rachel, sat in the middle of them.

Usually these girls never gave me the time of day—never acted as if I existed, unless I was in their way. One time Lydia and I were actually assigned as lab partners—she never spoke a word, never acknowledged I was speaking to her or even alive. She simply kept her nose held high and then seductively whispered something in Mr. Buckster’s ear. Whatever she said landed me a big fat F and her—well, she got a new lab partner. I didn’t like her much after that. Her clone followers were no different.

As I scooted across the cafeteria to my usual table, the corner table furthest from the food lines and trash cans, I felt their beady eyes following me. The uncomfortable feeling was quickly interrupted with a startling jolt from Jean.

“What took ya so long? Luke and I went ahead and split a pizza. He had to go retake a pre-cal quiz, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I was starvin’. Gym was such a beatin’ today—really worked up my appetite.”

Luke Dubois was Jean’s new boyfriend. They actually made a cute couple. Luke was what I liked to call all-American. He was around six foot, blond hair, blue eyes, muscular, and the best linebacker on our football team. Though I was quite fond of the guy—he was polite, laughed a lot, and he really seemed to care about Jean—I was relieved to hear he wouldn’t be joining us for lunch. Now that Erik and I wouldn’t be sitting together, I would be the awkward third wheel.

“I was caught up in class. You know, finishing up some work,” I lied. The truth was I hadn’t realized that I was almost fifteen minutes late to lunch. My time was not matching up with the time in the real world. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t pointed it out.

“Well, hurry up. Sit down. Eat your salad.”

“That’s my plan,” I said.

Jean started rambling as soon as I sat my tray down. “Girl, let me tell ya—I followed my pizza with one of these delicious milk chocolate toffee with almonds candies. I thought I would treat myself after the day I’ve been havin’. We actually had to play scooter board softball in gym today. Who comes up with this stuff?”

Before I could answer, she had already gone to the next subject.

“And you know that game where you stand in a circle and throw from the free throw? Remember when we played that last year?” She paused just long enough for me to nod my head before she continued, “Well, we had to play that after the scooter board softball, and I lost…again. I tell ya what, you are so lucky that you don’t have to take it this year. I think PE should be banned altogether. It only reminds me that I lack coordination.” She opened her purse to pull out another wrapped candy. “I always leave feelin’ bad.”

“At least you didn’t flunk your Spanish test today. Got any candy for that?”

“What? I thought you said you were prepared.” Jean slid a couple of gold-wrapped candies onto the table. “Here. You’ll be surprised how the chocolate helps.”

“I was prepared,” I said. I rolled up the left sleeve of my jacket to reveal a jumble of black, smudged letters on my skin.

“Really, Clara? No one gets away with cheating in Maywert’s class.”

“I know that now,” I mumbled.

“Since when do you cheat anyway?”

“I was going to study, but then everything happened…I couldn’t think after that.”

“Have you bumped into him today?”

“Nu-uh.”

“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t want to deal with that anywhere on school grounds. If you or Erik caused a scene—that would be gossip for months. Anyway, I’ve been thinkin’ about this whole situation between the two of you, and I think I figured it out.” Jean scooted her orange plastic chair closer to mine, giving me just enough time to swallow a mouthful of lettuce. “Y’all did it, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?” I was shocked by her bluntness. “Of course not.”

“Why are you holding out on me? You can tell me—I won’t repeat a word, honest I won’t. Everything’s not black-and-white these days. There’s a lot of gray area. I won’t judge you. I like to go by the first, second, and third base rules. That’s what happened, isn’t it? He broke your rules—he went too far?”

“No, that’s not it. We’ve never even kissed,” I timidly replied. I felt embarrassed as soon as the words left my lips. I imagined I was the only girl in the entire parish who hadn’t been kissed. I quickly broke eye contact by turning my attention to my plastic fork picking through the colorful salad in front of me and then continued, “I’m not sure I’ve ever been kissed.”

“Really? So you really don’t know? I always wondered about that. I thought the memory loss thing was just another one of the poshes’ attempts at a nasty rumor, but jeez—that’s bad.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed my salad bowl and empty Dasani bottle while I pushed my chair away from the table, but before I could stand, her hand caught my sleeve.

“Come on. You know I always speak before I think. I didn’t mean to upset you. You just surprised me. I mean, you never tell me anything personal. And—well, that’s big.” She released her grip on my sleeve to softly pat me on the shoulder. “I want you to know that I’m here for you. And I’ll stop buggin’ ya about Erik.”

I stared into the crowd of students shoveling food into their mouths, trying to eat the last bit of cafeteria slop before the bell sounded. I knew Jean would never hurt me on purpose. I trusted her—I wanted to tell her everything, but as I looked back to meet her concerned eyes, the bell rang. It was an annoyingly long bell. Good timing, I supposed.

“Thank you for being such a good friend. We’ll talk on the way home. Okay?” I said with a genuine smile.

“Yeah?” Her face twisted, surprised that I had caved in.

“Yeah. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“I swear—you just made my day! I promise you won’t regret it.” She shot a quick glance to the large clock displayed on the cafeteria wall. “I better haul butt if I’m going to make algebra on time. I can’t afford another tardy. Will ya meet me in the parking lot after school?”

“Gotcha, I’ll be there.”

“I can’t wait! Later tater!”

I should have gotten up right then. I should have chucked the rest of my grazed salad and bee-lined out of the cafeteria to my third-period class. But I didn’t. I sat there picking at the carrots hidden in my bowl of lettuce, zoned out. The tables were clearing out with each minute past the bell, but I didn’t move. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I noticed Queen Posh and her jester walking toward my table.

“Hello, Clara. Are you enjoying your lunch?” Lydia asked.

Crap.
Too late to hide.

In the two and a half years I’d been at RRPH, the posh girls had never spoken a word to me. Now, today of all days, the queen of all the evil girls decided to ask about my lunch?
You’ve got to be kidding me.

I plastered a fake smile on my face and answered sarcastically, “Couldn’t be better.”

Next thing I knew, Lydia and Rachel plopped down in the chairs beside me. I was now the middle filling of a posh sandwich.

“So I heard you and Erik aren’t talking anymore. That sucks,” Lydia said.

“That really sucks,” Rachel agreed.

“I’m sure you’re real torn up about it,” I shot back.

“Well, it was only a matter of time. I mean, it didn’t make sense, you and Erik.”

“Oh, but you and Erik do,” I said sarcastically. I could see exactly where this was going. I was upset to even think such a thing, much alone say it, but I managed to keep a strong tone.

“Exactly.
Everyone
knows that. Every guy at this school wants to be with me. It’s a fact,” she said.

Rachel chimed in, “Yeah. Lydia is hot. And you—well, you’re no Lydia.”

Okay, they were really ticking me off. It was no secret that Lydia had a thing for Erik. She had been drooling over him since his first day at school. Surprisingly, Erik never seemed the slightest bit interested in her big boobs, her perfectly bronzed skin, or her long legs, but it still bothered me that she implied he would be.

“What do you want, Lydia?”

“You sure don’t beat around the bush. I like that.” She slowly leaned forward and crossed her arms on the top of the table. “I want his number. You won’t be needing it anymore, so why not give it to someone who can use it?” Her eyelashes fluttered, while her glossed lips turned up into a devilish smirk.

The thought of her calling Erik was worse than the idea that I might never call him again. I immediately felt nauseous. “You’re not his type,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“But I am,” she said smugly. “It won’t be long before he calls me. I simply want to beat him to the punch.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not giving you anything.” I forcefully pushed my chair away from the table—away from the evil queen. “Just leave me alone.”

“If that’s how you want to be”—Lydia threw a folded piece of notebook paper on the table as she stood from her chair—“you can see for yourself. I was trying to save you from the harsh truth.” She dramatically flipped her hair, signaling her clone it was time to leave. “And Clara, when you get over the obvious fact that he doesn’t want you, you can leave his number in my locker. Locker three-five-one. Thanks.”

I hated her uneven locker number almost as much as I hated her. Lydia left with her cold signature smirk across her face. I left with a folded note addressed from Erik to her.