Twisted (4 page)

I nodded, wondering if this was really how I wanted to spend the rest of the day.

“Let’s go!” Hailey said as she grabbed me by the wrist and started to skip away. I must’ve been dead weight for her because after two little skips she realized I wasn’t going to be keeping up. She let go and took off down the beach.

“We’ve got our towels spread out down there,” Phoebe said. She pointed in the direction Hailey had bounced off in.

“It’s close to the snack shack and volleyball nets. That’s where the cute guys hang out,” Olivia informed me.

“Sounds good,” I replied, not sure of what else to say.

The beach was crowded. It was the perfect day to be outdoors and one of the last days of summer vacation. Hailey swerved around sunbathers and reached the spot where three towels, bags and a myriad of beach paraphernalia were spread out on the sand. She jumped up and down a few times and waved. As though…what? We might actually miss her?

“She’s a lot perkier than I remember,” I said in dismay.

Olivia smiled and shook her head. “It’s the cheerleader in her shining through. She’s captain this year.”

I laughed. “Isn’t a Goth cheerleader an oxymoron?”

Phoebe smiled sweetly. “You’ll soon find most days you’ll just want to leave it at ‘
moron’
.”

Olivia gave Phoebe a chiding look but smiled anyway.

We reached Hailey and I spread out my towel and wriggled out of my shorts and tank top. I was slathering on suntan lotion when I noticed the other three were staring at my knees.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” Olivia warned me. “What happened?”

I told them about the accident. I had to catch myself before mentioning it was Ben McCaffey that had helped me. As I was talking I sprawled out on the sand next to Phoebe.

“How long have you been back?” Olivia asked. “Is it true you’re staying for the year?”

I shrugged even though everyone was lying down, eyes closed, soaking up the sunshine. “I’ve only been back a few weeks. I plan on staying for the whole year.”

“Why are you living with Remy?” Hailey wanted to know.

I took a second to mentally slide the pieces of my story together. “Mom got a job offer that requires her to travel a lot. It was an opportunity she didn’t want to pass up. With me only having one year left of school before I’m out of the house anyway, I told her she should take it. So I’m living with Remy.”

They were satisfied with the information. Nobody cared to ask exactly what kind of job or where she traveled to. Parental careers were not a hot topic for beach conversation.

“Have you gotten together with anyone else?” Olivia asked.

“No,” I replied honestly. Surely bumping into Ben didn’t count as getting together with anyone.

“Henry’s coming over,” Phoebe murmured.

“Oh!” Olivia exclaimed.  I opened my eyes just in time to see her pop up off her towel. She bounced a few steps to who I assumed was Henry. She confirmed it as she introduced us, sliding her fingers through his and smiling brighter than the afternoon sunshine. He whispered something in her ear and the wattage of her smile increased.

“We’re going for a walk. I’ll be back later.” She gave us a little finger wiggle wave and off they went.

Hailey propped herself up on her elbows and watched them go. She let out a sigh. “Mmm, Henry,” she muttered. “He just looks so yummy.”

Phoebe blocked the sun’s rays with her hand and glared up at Hailey. “Why don’t you peel your eyes off Henry and stick to the candy store you packed in your beach bag?”    

“You know, that is
really
why they call you the Ice Princess,” Hailey told her with a happy smile. “You may think it’s because you always nail that triple axel, triple toe loop watchamathingy combo at your competitions. That’s not why. It’s because of your attitude.”

Phoebe gave her a radiant grin and rubbed her nose with her middle finger.  

“Right back at ya,” Hailey said brightly.

I sighed and closed my eyes, wishing that I could just drift off and spend the rest of the afternoon in a state of unconsciousness.

There’s really no other way to say it. My car is a guy magnet. Having moved seven times in the past two years alone, while Mom was on her search for someplace that would bring her peace, I’d been the new girl enough times to know. While having a guy magnet kind of car might sound like a lot of fun, it really isn’t.

No matter how much time I spend taming my curls into a nicely placed cascade down my back, or how cute my new first day of school outfit was, no matter how good of a job my padded push-up bra was doing, I was invisible when I stood next to my car. It was a good thing I didn’t mind spending time on my hair. And I actually enjoyed shopping so it wasn’t a total loss.

Worse than being invisible next to my car were the moronic questions that followed once I actually started to come into their focus again. They had ridiculous questions about the engine, tires, and always something about quad headlights. The best I could do was to tell them that it was a perfectly restored, Candy Apple Red, ‘69 Mustang convertible.

More often than not I’d park the car and make a run for it. However, today was the first day of school for everyone. Not just the new girl. So darting unnoticed into the school was not the case. The parking lot was already full. Students were milling around. I had to wait to park.

Once I did, Hailey in her long black flowing skirt, double layered black tank tops and chunky-heeled black sandals came running up to me. Her black hair was so shiny I had to squint from the glare the morning sun cast on it. I noticed she was wearing a candy necklace and a big red Ring Pop was on her middle finger.

“
Oh
!” she squealed. “I didn’t know you had a convertible! I want one
so
bad!” She faltered a bit as she made a more thorough assessment. “It’s really, really old isn’t it?” she added distastefully as the smile fell from her face.

“I guess you could say that,” I managed.

It was also Trey’s. That’s why I drove it. It was the one connection that I had to my brother. Remy and I were far apart enough in age to not drive each other crazy. However to Trey, I had been like the gum on the bottom of his shoe that he couldn’t scrape away. Including the day that he and Dad went to look at the Mustang. I was only nine and had to tag along. That day the car looked like it belonged in the junkyard Dad found it in. But Dad and Trey spent the next two years restoring it. By the time they were done, it was pristine. It was a good thing Trey got to drive it a few times while he had his learner’s permit because he died three months before he got his license.

Sometimes I wonder just what he’d think if he knew that
I
was the one that got to drive his prized car. It made me smile because I knew he loved me…Even if he never did get around to saying it…Or even showing it. And some days, when I remember how he used to pin me to the ground and then dangle spit loogies in my face, I dream of painting the car Pepto-Bismal pink. Of course not out of spite, I just think it would make it pretty.

“Is this yours?” Phoebe asked as she walked up with Olivia.

“I love the color!” Olivia said before I could reply.

“Uh-huh,” I answered to both as I tried to discreetly move us away from the car. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” They started to follow but we didn’t get far.

Within a few feet, the inevitable wave of testosterone began to close in. I tried to tug my friends along. I didn’t have much luck. The guy-flock corralled us and we were trapped.

As always, there’s at least one car junkie in every group. This time it was a guy with mussed up dark brown hair that was gelled to perfection. He had hazel eyes and teeth as perfect as mine. Meaning at one time he’d had a mouth full of metal, too.

“Is this baby yours?” he asked.

“Yup, sure is,” I admitted. I blew out a sigh of defeat. I hung my head down to peek at my pedicure. My expertly filed, carefully painted toenails looked pretty sticking out from my new pink flip-flops.

“Wow!” he bypassed me to circle the car. “Bucket seats…dual exhaust with two chamber performance mufflers…Magnum 500 wheels…in original Candy Apple Red! This car is sweet!”

I nodded and faked a yawn. I was hoping he’d take the hint, which they never did. I fidgeted with a lock of my hair, wrapping a ringlet round and round my perfectly shaped Sizzlin’ Berry tipped pointer finger. Aside from the obvious color of my car, he’d lost me after bucket seats.

Several other guys from the flock were now circling my car like automotive vultures hungry for a better look.

My brain started to glaze over and my hearing grew fuzzy. The comments about 6 cylinders versus V-8s, tranny specs, horsepower and other foreign words swirled around me.

“I bet there’s some rumble in those babies,” someone said.

I realized questions were being thrown at me but I continued to tune it all out.

“Dudes!” Phoebe interjected, stepping to my rescue. “Did you not notice the perfectly plucked eyebrows? And look at this manicure!” she exclaimed as she held up my dangling fingers for them to see. “Does this look like the hand of a know-it-all grease monkey?”

Most of the motor heads backed away but one stepped closer.

“I’m Blake,” the guy with all of the hair gel said. He threw an arm around my shoulder. “You can take me for a ride anytime.” Hailey’s jaw dropped and a green Jolly Rancher tumbled out.

She recovered quickly. “Blake, this is Maya. She’s a really good friend of mine.” She turned to me and I swear I could practically see little cartoon hearts pulsating in her eyes. “Maya, maybe you could take us both for a ride tonight? It’s a gorgeous day for a drive with the top down!”

Apparently she decided my car wasn’t too old after all. Not that it mattered.

No matter how tamed my curls are at the start, add a bit of wind to my hair and I have a volatile combination. One spin through town with the top down and you may as well pop me on a post and put me in a cornfield. I wasn’t about to admit all of that so I just said, “I’d love to but I have plans with Remy after school.” It was just a tiny fib. The plans consisted of me eating a Pop-Tart while waiting for Remy to roll out of bed so I could tell her about my day.

It was then that I saw Ben. He parked in the furthest spot in the back of the lot. His eyes flitted to me, with Blake’s arm still wrapped tight. Then his glance darted away so quickly I wasn’t sure he’d even really seen me at all. However, he did give my car a good three second gawk which was more than he’d
ever
bothered to give me.

Blake was making the inevitable comment about ’69 being the first year for quad headlights. All I really heard was a monotone drone of nothingness. I ducked out of his grip and stepped aside. I watched as Ben strolled away. He never once stopped to talk to anyone. Hailey had begun sucking on her Ring-Pop. Her eyes were narrowed and scrutinizing.

“Don’t bother,” she said.

I turned to her, the epitome of wide-eyed innocence. “Excuse me?”

She motioned with her head. “That guy? Ben? The look you gave him was so hot you could’ve baked me a batch of cookies with it.”

The only thing hot at that moment were my cheeks. I could feel them flaming red. I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off.

“Don’t waste your time. He’s completely off limits. It’s a total waste of male perfection but that’s just how it is.” She sighed and stuck the ring back into her mouth.

I’d forgotten Olivia was there. She was off to the side but she slid up to Hailey.

“You think so?” she asked. “I think he’s just plain creepy.”  She wore a corresponding look on her face to prove it. She kept her eyes on Ben. As if afraid he might backtrack and attack at any moment.

I felt my entire body bristle in irritation. I wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t as though Ben was actually a friend of mine.

Phoebe stepped in, sensing the sudden tension. “We better get going. I have Mrs. Toftum first hour. She lets us pick our seats but then we’re stuck there for the whole year. Last year I got there late. I had to sit next to Tate Douglas for nine months. He picks off his scabs and pulls out eyelashes when he gets bored.” She shuddered at the memory.

Olivia nodded, seemingly anxious to move away from the subject of Ben McCaffey.

Hailey bobbed her head in agreement as well. I realized the chunky streaks of red that adorned her hair at the beach had now been switched out to cobalt blue. I commented on it as we crossed the quad.

“Coach Pat won’t let me have multi-colored hair when I cheer. She can’t do anything about the black but I’m not allowed to have the streaks. I have to use extensions,” Hailey informed me with an enormous huff and an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “I don’t think that’s fair. Isn’t that against the law or something? I mean, she’s like violating my cibil rights.”

“It’s
civil
rights,” Phoebe corrected.

“That’s what I said,” Hailey grumbled.

***

I told myself I wasn’t looking for Ben, even though it’s kind of pointless to lie to yourself. I also hated to admit that the reason I was looking for him was simply because he’d told me to stay away. Kind of despicable, I know. But it’s right along the lines of you always want what you can’t have. Or somebody telling you that you absolutely cannot look inside of the gift bag when you’re all alone in the room. Making it the one thing you want to do the most. So I guess my interest fell somewhere along those lines.

Only when I finally did see him, I almost wished I hadn’t.

I knew lockers were in alphabetical order. Mine, of course, was one of the first. Phoebe Baxter was just down the row. Ben McCaffey, however, was closer to Hailey Marshall so I made my way down the hall with the presumed intent to meet up with Hailey. Or to just keep right on sashaying down to Olivia Walker.

I spotted Ben right away. He was without a baseball cap, of course. His previously overgrown hair was now close cut. He seemed to focus all of his attention on his combination lock. I had no intention of stopping to say hello. But stop, I did, several feet away.

A guy I didn’t recognize came up behind Ben and spun him around, causing the books he’d just removed to fall to the floor. He then slammed him into the bank of lockers and sucker punched him in the stomach. Ben flinched but made no move to retaliate. Even more peculiar, even though there were students wandering by, no one stopped. No one said a word. There was no gawking, no jeering like I was used to seeing and hearing when a fight broke out. If anything, there were a few startled glances and then everyone scurried away. It reminded me of the muggings you hear about in New York City where everyone just turns a blind eye because no one wants to get involved.

Ben was tall with lean, defined muscle mass. This attacker had sandy-blond hair and was several inches shorter but bulkier. He grabbed Ben by his shirt, shoving him into the locker. He poked his face up close to Ben’s. I saw his lips moving but the bustling crowd drowned out the words. Ben calmly replied to whatever was said to him. The guy gave him one final jerk, probably a glare I couldn’t see from my vantage point, and then joined Blake who I realized was standing on the sidelines. The two of them walked away.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Hailey said as she skipped past me.

I fell into step behind her. By the time we’d reached her locker, about half a dozen before Ben’s, he’d already picked up his books and went on his way.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“Personal matter,” Hailey said in a case-closed kind of voice.

I looked at her with questioning eyebrows.

“We better hustle or we’ll be late,” she said as she slammed her locker shut. “I’ll meet you by the bench at the north end after school, okay?”

I nodded and headed off in the direction of American Literature.

Ben was already in his seat. My heart sputtered in my chest. I had gone through four periods and lunch without even seeing him. Now I found I had a class with him. I searched for an open seat close to him. I ended up one row over and two seats back. He never looked up at me. Nor did he look up when the sandy-blond haired guy walked in. The guy walked by, glaring at Ben with such hatred it made my stomach clench. The rest of the class trickled in seconds before the bell rang.

I pulled my eyes from Ben. I didn’t want to be caught staring again.

Mr. Schroeder strolled in. Either Olivia or Hailey had mentioned he was the football coach. He looked it. He was short and stout and appeared to be born without a neck. He scrawled “Poe” across the board. I settled back in my seat. We were starting out easy. I’d written a research paper on Poe the year before. He was my one and only literary favorite. I could probably recite
Annabel Lee
in my sleep.

“Welcome to American Lit,” he ground out. He had a raspy voice that was going to grate on my already frazzled nerves. “You should all know I don’t like to waste any time. Today we’ll jump right in.” He motioned to the board. “As you’ve noted—”

The wall phone rang, interrupting him. He scowled as he ambled over to answer it. After a brief discussion he replaced the phone and aimed a scrutinizing glower at Ben.

“
You
!” he grumbled as he pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re wanted in Mrs. Birkendorf’s office.”