Authors: Olivia Lynde
The silence has lasted too long, so the
blond tries again. "So you're new here. What's your name?"
Oh, come on, give up already! It's not
like he's interested in me; he's too hot to bother with me given the way I look
now. I'm positive the only reason why I'm on his radar at all is because Seth
was staring at me, and it's made his jock friends curious.
"So you're shy, right? Lucky for
you, I've got the perfect cure for it," he drawls suggestively. "You
and me, tonight, the back seat of my car. Sounds good, right?"
Jeez, this guy is truly a piece a work!
He doesn't even know my name, yet he's already propositioning me. He must be
even dumber than I thought. And/or a total asshole.
Again I don't react in any way, and he
raises an eyebrow. Oh, take the hint already and
leave
! Seth's eyes are drilling
blistering holes through me. I really don't think he's happy that his friend
has lowered himself to talk to me.
Carter is about to say something else,
but the teacher—a thin guy in a corduroy jacket—finally arrives, so Mr. Sex-on-Legs
closes his mouth and returns to his former seat. Thank heavens! The jock with
coffee-colored hair welcomes him with a big grin on his face and says something
that makes Carter give a baffled shrug. For an instant I think I even see
Seth's lips curling in a satisfied smirk.
I go up to the teacher to get him to sign
my note from the secretary, and my already bad luck turns spectacularly worse
when he asks me to introduce myself to everyone. I reluctantly face the classroom
and all eyes are instantly on me, which multiplies my uneasiness by, oh, maybe
a hundred.
I've never been so aware of my ill-fitting
clothes, big and worn and hanging on me like on a hanger. I look a total mess
and it's never mattered before, this was my choice... yet now it hurts me to
know that perfectly-put-together and perfectly-handsome Seth is looking at me,
seeing me in all my dowdy glory, and finding me wanting.
Just get this over with!
Head lowered so
that I don't accidentally meet anyone's gaze, especially Seth's, I whisper,
"My name is Summer. I've just moved here. I'm sixteen years old and a Junior."
That's all, just the bare, empty facts;
nothing personal, nothing that really says anything meaningful about
me
.
The teacher seems to be waiting for more, but when I remain silent he gives up
and sends me back to my seat.
The class is interminable. It almost
seems as if time has expanded with the sole purpose of increasing my torment. I
don't hear a single word coming out of the teacher's mouth; all I'm aware of is
Seth's watchful gaze encompassing me. I peek a few times at him but I don't
catch him glancing at me again; his eyes seem trained on the teacher. Still,
I'm not fooled. I've always known when he's looking at me, for I've always felt
it like a physical touch, and if anything, this awareness I have of him seems
to be even stronger now than when we were children.
Only now, for some reason, his gaze on
me also creates a slow burn in my chest and butterflies in my belly. Maybe I've
caught a stomach bug. And a fever. I really hope that's the explanation—I've
never felt this way before.
I look at my watch for what is probably
the thousandth time in the last forty-five minutes and start to discreetly
gather my stuff. The moment the bell rings, I'm up and moving and am the first
to leave the classroom. A few minutes later I go out the high school's doors
and head for the buses.
* * *
I'm sitting at dinner with the
Andersons.
After I casually complimented Louise on
the food, she's just finished informing me scathingly that she didn't prepare
it—they have a housekeeper coming in the mornings and taking care of such menial
tasks as cooking and cleaning the house. Naturally.
Now she's back to wearing the self-absorbed
expression that seems to be the norm for her, and Greg is trying to make polite
chit-chat, asking me about my first day of school.
"It was fine." My tone doesn't
invite further conversation.
Still, Greg persists. "How were
your classes?"
"They were fine, too."
"Yes?" Greg raises an eyebrow.
"No difficulties at all in view of the fact that the semester is already more
than halfway through?"
"I have to do some compensatory
assignments. I'm used to it."
"What about the other students?
Have you made any friends?"
I start to say no, but then I remember Marcie
and her group and think perhaps that answer wouldn't be completely truthful. So
I compromise by saying, "Maybe."
Jessica, who's been silently studying me
all this time—though not with her usual expression of distaste, but rather as
if she wanted to figure something out, which actually freaks me out more—chooses
that moment to butt into the conversation. "Oh, I don't think Summer's had
any time to make friends today. She's been too busy being a creep and stalking
the hottest guy in school." She laughs nastily. "Like she'd ever have
a chance with him! I mean, hasn't she ever looked in a mirror?"
"Now, Jessica, that is a bit harsh,
isn't it?" Greg tries to intervene, seeming uncomfortable.
Louise chooses that moment to speak as
well. "Jessica, you have to realize that not everyone can be as blessed as
you are in the looks department. That doesn't mean that unattractive people
don't have their own uses in society."
Jeez, this woman is something else! Did
she really say that, and with a straight face? Greg looks even more
uncomfortable.
I ignore the fosters and instead meet
Jessica's insolent gaze head-on. "I haven't been stalking anyone."
"Right!" She snorts, full of
sarcasm. "'Cause it wasn't you who stared at Seth Lewis all through lunch
like a total psycho and then made a scene running out of the cafeteria like
you'd been shot straight out of freak hell."
Well, she certainly seems to have observed
the interaction between me and Seth very closely. I'd wonder why but I already
know from Dana that she's obsessed with him, so she's obviously jealous. And most
likely paranoid. I also note that, even though she's taken pains to exaggerate
my flight from the cafeteria at lunch, she hasn't mentioned that Seth followed
me when I left. She can't have missed it if she was watching us so closely.
Yes, I can see it in her hate-filled
eyes that she does know that Seth went after me, and it burns her badly. Good.
"I didn't make a scene," I state
quietly. "I just left in a bit of a hurry and I'm sure that hardly anyone
noticed me. Why would they? In fact, why were
you
watching me?" That
part has me genuinely baffled.
"Oh, I have a great radar for psychos
trying to move in on my territory." she says venomously. "And make no
mistake: Seth
is
my territory. You stay away from him if you know what's
good for you!"
I'm about to give her some much-deserved
home truths when Louise exclaims in a shrill voice, "I simply cannot
believe you, Summer! Are you trying to steal Jessica's boyfriend?"
I'm incredulous. "Seth Lewis is
not
Jessica's boyfriend." At this moment, I'm actually thankful for him being
such a player and never committing to a girlfriend; I hate knowing that he's ever
even touched Jessica.
"Well, it doesn't really matter if
this boy and Jessica are in a relationship already or are still figuring things
out," Louise drawls condescendingly. "Jessica obviously likes him, so
you need to stay away. Not that you could actually compete with my daughter."
Looking at me, she wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Still, it's the least
you can do after we've taken you in."
I don't reply. What
can
be said
in response to such colossal pomposity? But good heavens, this mother-daughter
duo is like out of a bad movie! Meanwhile, Greg acts as if the last few volleys
of nastiness that were thrown at me across his dinner table never happened.
Luckily, everyone's finished eating, so
I offer to gather the dishes as Louise obviously expects me to. I put them in
the dishwasher, clean the table, and go up to my room.
* * *
I'm in my parents' bedroom.
My Daddy lies unmoving on the carpet—dead
from massive bleeding after being stabbed two dozen times in non-vital areas.
His blood, pooling in a wide crimson splotch beneath his body, has spread so
far that it's reached the spot where I lie on the floor a few feet away,
immobilized by the thick tape with which the killer has bound me.
And it's Mummy's turn now, and she's bleeding
from a dozen deep cuts right in front of my eyes. She's whimpering in pain
through the tape over her mouth, and I can't get to her because my hands and
feet are bound, and I can't scream for help because I have no voice left after
all the screaming and begging that I've already done.
Mummy will bleed out soon, and then
it'll be my turn.
I wake up in a cold sweat, my under lip
bitten raw because of my attempts to choke back my cries.
I'm terrified to fall asleep again after
that vicious night terror, so I reach for my dog-eared copy of
House of
Mirth
and start reading.
HHHH
But
I'm bone-tired and eventually I lose the fight to stay awake.
And the night turns into a ceaseless
nightmare.
The next morning as I alight from the school
bus, I see Jessica standing with a guy close to the bus stop. Well, that's weird.
What is she doing here? She glances at me, then leans into the guy and tells
him something. Immediately, he turns to look at me too, and I give him a quick
once-over.
He's undeniably attractive. Tall, built,
black hair, strong features. He's too far away for me to see the color of his
eyes but near enough that I notice his sensual lips. Good heavens! I internally
fan myself. Is there something in the water around Rockford—how come there are
so many hot guys in this school?
Still, the fact that this one is obviously
buds with Jessica kind of overshadows all his hotness. Plus, I'm getting a
weird vibe from them with the way the two of them are staring at me, Jessica whispering
feverishly and the guy listening with a cocky grin.
I turn away and walk into the school
building.
* * *
I still have one class before lunch and
I've stopped at my locker to change my books when out of the corner of my eye I
see a guy leaning on the locker next to mine. I turn my head slightly and see
the hot black-haired guy from this morning aiming a searing smile at me. If I
were a slightly weaker girl, this smile would probably set my panties on fire.
Good thing that I'm a hard-edged foster
girl who well knows that nothing in this life comes for free. Especially not
the smiles of hot guys.
Still, I let myself sneak one quick look
at him as I open my locker. I was curious earlier about the color of his eyes.
Well, they're blue. In fact, now that I see him closely, he looks a bit like
Seth, though definitely in a watered-down kind of way. He doesn't have even a
tenth of Seth's effortless charisma. But then again, who does?
"Hello, Summer," says the stranger.
How does he know my name?
"How do you know my name?" I
blurt out and instantly want to bash my forehead against the locker door. I've
broken my ignore-rule; now it'll be more difficult to get rid of him.
His sexy grin becomes wider. "I
have my ways of finding out things I wanna know."
"Why would you want to know my
name?" I mean, really. He's gorgeous and obviously a player; why would he
be interested in me? I check to see if I'm still wearing my off-putting getup.
Yep, I am.
And the thing with my "uniform"
is: it doesn't just make me unattractive—the awkward clothes make me uncool
besides, and cool kids don't mingle with uncool kids since they consider them
inferior and possibly contagious. So why would this boy approach
me
?
Carter, yesterday... well, he clearly wanted
to jerk Seth's chain but he wasn't really interested in me, I know that. I
never draw the hot guys' attention when I'm dressed like this and makeup-free,
only of guys who are maybe a small notch above unattractive.
Not to mention that the usual dark
circles below my eyes look more like bruises today; I'm a complete wreck after
last night.
"Maybe I wanted to know your name
because I wanted to know
you
," Mr. Player replies, leaning closer to
me. "And it fits you—a pretty name for a pretty girl. By the way, I'm
Josh." Again with the sexy grin.
Okay, this encounter has now gone way
beyond surreal. I know this guy can't really like me, so what is the true
reason for him approaching me like this, out of the blue? And for flirting with
me like mad? God, I'm so tired I can barely stand upright, much less think. I
take a minute to fumble with my books in the locker, and my light bulb lights
up at last. Of course. He was with Jessica earlier this morning, and in
retrospect, I'm almost positive that they were talking about me.