Chapter 8

On Monday, school was terrible. When I woke up that morning, I still had that feeling that I should just stop going, that I should stop showing up, but I pulled myself from my bed and slipped into the bathroom to get ready. Once I arrived at school, Ronnie was there. His locker was near the entrance, so I wasn’t surprised. What I was surprised about was his black eye and his busted lip. Did I do that? I nearly gasped once I saw his face, but for some reason- I didn’t feel as sorry as I did after I committed the act. Maybe it was the look he gave me, or maybe it was the way people looked at me- the way they actually noticed me, for the first time in practically two and a half years. I was the talk of the school for my first five out of ten months here as a freshman, mainly because of my father’s death. Or because of how my friends up and left me the moment I returned to school from my two week mourning.

I walked down the hallway towards the gymnasium. I’d rather stand in there and look like a loner rather than stand alone in the hallways and look like a criminal. “You’re going to class already? What happened to being a rebel?”

Marissa smiled at me before closing her locker. I noticed Chloe give me a wary look while Dana just smiled. I don’t see why Ethel said that Dana is stupid, because she seems intelligent to me. And even if she isn’t smart, she’s still really nice. Chloe might not be the brightest bulb in the box, but she probably has a few good traits or else Marissa wouldn’t have befriended her. One of her good traits is that she’s pretty, along with her two friends. Compared to them, I look like I crawled out of a cave. I’m also extremely short, which isn’t helping. I’m also not skinny, which makes me seem like an outcast among them, when normally- I’m pretty okay with my weight.

I shrugged. “My rebellious days are over.”

Dana and Marissa laughed while Chloe ran her fingers across the screen of her phone. “You have that class with my brother, right?”

I nodded. “I have had this class with him since the first week of school.”

She rolled her eyes. “Can you please give him these?”

I nodded, accepted the small case in my hands. My eyebrows furrowed when I noticed that they were contacts. He wears contacts? Ha, that’s what he gets for having pretty eyes. “Sure.”

“Thank you," she told me before pursing her lips. She glanced at Chloe who had a scowl on her face. Marissa stifled a laugh, earning a confused look from me. “Can I talk to you later? During lunch?”

I winced. “I have lunch detention…for the whole week. You can talk to me in the lunch line when I get my lunch, but then I have to leave. Same goes for after school, it ends at four.”

She shook her head. “They overreacted.”

I shrugged. “I did attack the guy. At least they didn't suspend me.”

“Did you see what you did to his face?” Dana asked, holding her mouth as a smile threatened to show up.

I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from laughing. Just a few moments ago, I was gasping in shock. But now I realize that this is Ronnie we’re talking about. Rotten Ronnie, the guy who talks about my late father, the guy who got on my case because I can’t play volleyball to save my life, so I don’t feel as guilty as I should. Speaking of the devil, Ronnie came limping by. I did tackle him, so I’m guessing he landed on a weird angle. It wasn’t enough to put him in a cast, which would have made me feel extremely guilty. The bell rang as Marissa and Dana laughed loudly. He offered them the one finger salute as a girl rushed to open the door for him, as if he wasn’t physically capable of doing it himself.

I ducked into the gymnasium, offering Marissa and Dana a kind smile and a wave. Chloe wasn’t looking in my direction, so I didn’t bother to wave at her. I walked in Noah’s direction, watching as he blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes occasionally. That explains why he kept rubbing his eyes and blinking quickly when I asked him to go to Ethel’s gala with me. I assumed it was because he was tired but after being awake and functioning for ten minutes, you’d figure you’re fully awake with no need to keep wiping at your eyes.

“Noah,” I stated once I was in his hearing range. He was seated in his usual spot on the bleachers, meaning I had to climb. I’m curious as to how he got up there without falling, or how he drove here.

He looked down the bleachers and squinted as he watched me walk up them. “What?”

“Good morning to you, too," I told him, reaching out and handing him the contacts. He stared at my hand for a moment. “Here, your contacts.”

He snatched them from my hand and hastily stood up, tucking his phone into his pocket but leaving his bag on the bleacher. “How’d you even get to school?”

“I left the house with my glasses on and I didn’t realize that I didn’t have my contacts until I reached the school,” he responded, earning a confused look from me.

“So where are your glasses?” I asked him.

“I took them off in the parking lot," he replied.

“What? Why? How did you even get up the bleachers without falling? How’d you get across the parking lot without being hit?” I retorted, watching as he tried to make his way down the steps.

“Shut up," he grumbled, nearly slipping. His hand gripped the railing as I snorted.

“Do you need help?” I asked him and he tried to glare at me, or the blob version of me, which is what I’m assuming he sees.

“No," he barked, gripping the railing tightly. I walked beside him, watching his feet as they idled in the air slightly. He would watch me take steps before he took them himself, so in a way, I was helping him. He managed to make it down the bleachers safely as he matched my footsteps.

“Do you want me to walk you to the boy’s locker room?” I offered and he didn’t say anything in response so I took it as a yes. Once he entered the locker room, I walked away, watching as the gym teacher talked to Ronnie. He was sitting on the bleachers, blinking his one good eye. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but at one point, Ronnie glared in my direction before nodding at the coach.

The locker room door opened and Noah exited, blinking a few times before his eyes skimmed the small crowd. Everyone else was late for class, aside from me and about six others- Noah and Ronnie included. Noah was almost past me when I spoke up. “What? No ‘thank you?’”

Without glancing at me, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and responded. “Nope.”

 I shrugged, it’s not like I expected him to.

<<>><<>> 

American Literature was better. There was a familiar face in the class, even if he doesn’t like me very much. Not to be mean, but not many people like him either- so he might know what I’m going through, at least somewhat. “I’m assuming you guys read your chapters and wrote the paragraphs.”

A few people groaned and she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Everyone was sat with their groups and I was sitting diagonal to Noah, knowing that it’d be weird if I sat directly across from him, especially because he has a problem with eye contact. Unless he’s glaring from afar, because I can tell you that he has no problem glaring into your soul.

I may not know Noah well but I know that he isn’t like most studets here at school. For the most part, he doesn’t feed into drama and he doesn’t go to parties. As far as I know, he doesn’t drink or smoke, which is a rare find among the junior and senior class. Hopefully he doesn’t change that about him, because that’s a good trait. The more I pay attention to him, the longer the list of good traits gets.

My attention was drawn to Ms. Walters, who let out a large sigh. “Read your chapters and write short summaries. Next class, if you aren’t prepared, it’s a zero for the class period. And the odds of you failing the even larger project gets larger and larger.”

I turned my attention to Noah who was staring intently at the cover of the book, a piece of loose leaf paper with his neat handwriting on his desk. I had scribbled mine into my notebook, finishing it in less than an hour. “Can I see your paper?”

He motioned for me to grab it, so I did. I put my paper in the corner of my desk that was closest to him so if he wanted to, he could grab it. But I made sure not to force it upon him. I skimmed his answers. They were similar to mine, aside from the fact that he included his opinion about the book in the summary. He said that on the surface, the book is boring but if you actually pay attention, which I did, it’s interesting. I can’t help but agree with him. After putting the paper down, I watched him read my answers. This is the first time I’ve worked with someone in any of my English classes since the start of high school, mainly because I was always ahead of the class. It’s good to have someone who is on the same level as you, or maybe even higher. I need to get on his level, if he does happen to be higher than me.

“Please tell me you two did to assignment," Ms. Walters muttered once she reached our table. Noah and I nodded and she offered us a tired smile. We glanced around and practically everyone else was reading. “You did the paragraphs, too?”

We nodded again and she smiled. “Do you guys have your packets?”

And again, we nodded. “Well, the next portion requires you to discuss what you read aloud. But since practically everyone is reading, I’m going to send you two to the library. Can I trust you guys to not skip?”

We repeated our previous actions and she laughed as she grabbed a post-it note from her desk. “You two are like bobble heads.”

I smiled as she handed me the pass. Lifting my bag up, I grabbed my copy of A Precarious Treasure, my notebook, and my packet. Noah led the way to the library, even though I was well aware of its whereabouts. We arrived at the library, handing him our pass. He nodded and accepted it, allowing us to travel to a table in the back. There were a few other people sitting around, mostly kids who have free periods- which is common among juniors and seniors, but I noticed a few sophomores among the group. Most of them were on their phones, so it wasn’t hard to tell that they were skipping.  

Once we sat down and got settled, I looked at Noah, whose eyes were directed at a bookshelf behind me. I glanced behind me only to see nothing there so I shrugged it off before speaking. “So…do you wear your glasses a lot?”

He snorted. “I don’t recall talk of my vision being in the book.” 

I huffed loudly before leaning back in my seat. “So do you like the book?”

He shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Any predictions?” I was taking on the role of a teacher.

He shook his head. “None yet.”

I nodded, glancing around awkwardly. “Well, did you find anything interesting while you were reading?”

He shook his head. “No, other than words on the page, this was expected and anticipated. Oh, and a small ketchup stain on page 14.”

I groaned. “Do you have to be so difficult?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I choose to be.”

“Why?” I asked him.

“Do you plan on telling my sister?” he asked me, his eyes narrowed at me.

I knew exactly what he was talking about- how I drank at the party. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you really care whether or not I tell her? Or do you just want her to realize how great of a big brother you are?”

He snorted. “I really don’t need any more brownie points, I think I have enough; it’s just better for your friendship if you tell her now rather than later. I’m only trying to help you.”

“Help me? By dropping guilt bombs on me?” I scoffed, furrowing my eyebrows.

“What’s there to be guilty about?” he asked, his eyes shifting from the bookshelf behind me to my eyes for a moment. “Is it the fact that you broke your deal the first day it was put into action? Or is it that you resorted to calling her cruel brother for help? Or is it how you lied to her face when you had the perfect opportunity to tell her?”

I clutched my fists under the table, staring at him with annoyance evident in my features. It annoys me how his face is always void of emotion, no matter how angry or annoyed he is. “I don’t think you understand, okay?”

“Enlighten me, what is there to understand? What is so difficult that my miniscule brain can’t seem to grasp?” he responded, his voice annoyingly leveled.

My nails were digging into my palms now, to the point where my skin was breaking. I really need to cut my nails. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“But you need to explain yourself to my sister," he rejoined.

“You aren’t your sister, though, as far as I’m concerned," I bit back.

“Either you tell her or I will," he dealt. “And I’m not going to fluff up the story to help you, either.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” I clenched my teeth, my eyes narrowed into slits.

“Well, tell me, because it seems that it’s the only thing you can do. I doubt you’re going to tell my sister. You don’t have the nerve to.” He crossed his arms. “What happened? Did you see the drinks and you couldn’t help yourself? Did you decide that you wanted to give up on your responsibilities for a simple shot of liquor?”

“I’m not going to make myself seem pathetic to you," I told him, shaking my head.

“Too late,” It was a slap to the face. Pursing my lips as if I just tasted something sour, I gathered my things and left the library, ignoring the librarians’ threats to call Ms. Walters.

<<>><<>> 

‘Do you have a free period after this?’ I sent the text to Marissa, glancing at the detention teacher as I slipped my phone into my pocket.

What Noah said was bothering me but it also made me want to get rid of this guilt that was sitting on my shoulders, weighing me down. ‘No, but I can get out of class for about seven minutes. Why?’

‘I need to talk to you about something.’ Seven minutes definitely isn’t enough time but it’s enough to tell her what happened. I guess it could be, depending on her reaction.

‘Okay, third floor girl’s bathroom? 12:40?’ I responded with a positive reply before shoving my phone into my pocket. I was the only person here; it stinks because it’d be fun to experience this with someone else, with a best friend possibly- but I don’t have one, so that’s impossible. Detention is boring when you’re alone.

When I was finally released from lunch detention, I slowly made my way to the girl’s bathroom on the third floor, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. Students, who aren’t in wheelchairs or on crutches, aren’t allowed to use the elevator. There’s the occasional exception. You can usually get on when you’re with a teacher or someone of authority. Thankfully, I have a study hall period- which isn’t really of use because I study at home, but most teachers are in their classes so I can use the elevator as often as I want. But of course, there are always secretaries and the principal roaming the hallways looking for someone to strike with the wrath that they’ve managed to build up in a day.

I stood in the girl’s bathroom, resting against a sink. A few minutes later, Marissa came into the bathroom, a smile on her face. It will be gone soon, I just know it. “What’s up?”

I offered her a smile before kicking off of the wall, not bothering to beat around the bush. “You know the first party we went to together, right?”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I didn’t drive you and the other girls home,” I replied.

“Yeah you did, you told us that you did," she nodded her head and I shook mine in response, struggling to keep calm.

“I didn’t, okay? I got drunk and I called Noah to come and get us,” I admitted, rubbing my sweaty hands against my pants. The hands I used to beat up Ronnie.

“What?” Marissa asked, seeming confused.

I shook my head rapidly. “I got drunk so I called Noah to come pick us up. Then I lied to your face about it because I didn’t want you guys to hate me.”

“Why?” Marissa asked and I glanced up. Her arms were crossed and her eyebrows were still furrowed. I couldn’t place a name to her expression but it wasn’t happy. “Why did you drink?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does," she retorted.

I let out a shaky breath. “Do you know Spencer?”

"The senior who's always seen smoking in the parking lot?" she asked me and I nodded my head, looking down at the floor.

“He was holding me so tight and wouldn't let me leave. He kept insisting that I drink and no matter how many times I said that I didn't want to, he'd keep trying to get me to. His grip on me would only tighten and I was very scared. He was drunk and I didn't know how he'd react if I hit him, so I drank. First he made me finish his beer, which tasted off, and then he demanded that I take shots with him. When he went off to the bathroom after believing that I was too drunk to move, I ran upstairs to a bedroom. I puked before calling your brother.”

It was silent as I stared at the sink. I risked a glance at Marissa and her lips were pursed. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because your brother kept making me feel guilty for not telling you; it got to me. He threatened to tell you if I didn’t, and I’d rather tell you myself; he doesn’t know the full story. I just wasn't ready to tell you after it happened. I was spooked for a while. I kept thinking I was going to see Spencer in school and he'd know that I told someone what happened and he'd try something again,” I told her. “But if Spencer wasn’t there, I swear that I wouldn’t have- I just felt pressured, I didn’t know what to do. I'm sorry, Marrisa.”

“Why are you telling me this now? You and I both know that my brother wouldn't have said anything. He likes to be right, and he wouldn't put himself in a situation where he could be proved wrong," Marissa spoke.

“I betrayed your trust and that isn’t a way to start off a friendship. I felt like I was hiding something from you,” I responded, my eyes dropping to the floor again. “I could have killed you guys if I hadn’t called your brother.”

“But you didn’t," she told me.

“I could have. I could have said no to Spencer, too. I could have shoved him off of me, or done a better job at it. I could have shouted for help. I didn’t have to swallow the beer or the shots. I could have spit them on him, like I wanted to. I could have lied and told him that I’m allergic to alcohol. I shouldn’t have consumed alcohol when I had three girls depending on me, despite the circumstances. I was just scared,” I muttered, feeling angry tears spring to my eyes. The first time I have friends in practically two and a half years and I break their trust the first time they depend on me for something. "I'm sorry, Marissa."

“It’s okay, I don’t really care," she tried to comfort me. “Noah overreacted. He was probably just angry that you interrupted a good chapter of his book—.”

“No! You don’t understand! After two a half years of not having anyone, the first friends that I make put their trust in me and I break it! I go and drink! If I would have been too scared to call your brother, I could have gotten into the car and killed you guys! Your brother is right! I’m irresponsible and I’m not capable of anything.” I was breathing heavily.

“You’re not irresponsible. I think you’re pretty darn responsible; even drunk, you were smart enough to call my brother. And that takes nerves considering at that time you guys weren’t getting along at all. Don’t take anything my brother says seriously. What does he know?” she stated.

“He knows enough to deem me irresponsible,” I told her before motioning for the door. “Seven minutes is up, get to class or else you’ll have detention. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marissa asked me, disbelievingly.

I didn’t bother answering her question. We both know that I’m not okay. “Besides, you can’t risk a detention with volleyball and everything. We both know you need more practice.” My joke failed miserably, but she caught on to what I was trying to say. I wanted to be alone. She probably thinks I'm a weak, unstable loser who can't control her emotions. That's partially true. I do cry a lot, and I take pity on myself more than I should. And I'm trying to get over that, but it's a bit hard. I'm trying, though.

Letting out a sigh, Marissa slowly walked towards the door. “Text me if you need anything.”

I just nodded as she left the bathroom. I turned on the sink and rinsed my face. I let out a tired sigh as I stared into the mirror. I let out a frustrated groan. After drying my face, I exited the bathroom and headed to art class even though I would be fifteen minutes early.

<<>><<>>

I approached the detention room that I was in only about two hours ago. Rather than being here for half an hour, I’ll be here for an hour and a half, which is terrible. A few people were already seated; most of them leaning back in their seats carelessly as if nothing was wrong with sitting in detention for what must be the thirtieth time this marking period.

I noticed a nerdy boy sitting in the back of the class. I recognized him from my physics class; he is always the first to raise his hand. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes darted up and he wrinkled his nose as if studying me. I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question but I should have. “I forgot my homework for AP Calc.”

My eyebrows rose involuntarily. He forgot his homework? That’s why he’s here? I just nodded before shuffling towards the middle of the classroom, taking a seat at a random desk. I started reading two chapters of A Precarious Treasure before recognizing that Noah and I didn’t come to an agreement on which chapter we should read up to. I decided to read two more chapters. That’s easy enough.

Once detention ended, I was the second one out of the classroom. The nerd was the first, if you were wondering. It’s not cool to call people nerds, I know, but I’m a nerd too, so I guess it is okay. At least I admit it.

We all walked as a crowd in the direction of the parking lot, every so often someone breaking off to head in a different direction but for the most part, we stayed together. When we were passing the gym, I heard a stampede of feet and noticed the volleyball players all rushing towards the doors. I caught Marissa’s eye and she smiled at me before scanning the crowd I was in.

“I never expected to see you amongst this crowd," she joked, nudging me in the side as I detached myself from the walking detention goers. I noticed a few feet behind her, Noah was exiting the gymnasium. I quickly looked away from him and back to his sister.

“To be honest, it’s not that bad. It’s quiet, for the most part; I just hope it stays that way this whole week,” I muttered as we walked side by side.

“It’s Monday, so not a lot of kids got in trouble. Come Wednesday and that place will be crowded,” Marissa nodded her head, her eyes wide as if remembering a certain event.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” I responded, holding the door open for her and the other volleyball girls as they all exited the hallway, flooding into the parking lot. The crowd thinned out as people walked in all different directions, going to their cars. Noah was approaching the door and I had the urge to let the door close in his face but decided to be the bigger person and wait for him. When he arrived at the doors, he opened the other door while I stood there with an annoyed look on my face. I let the door slam shut.

Marissa walked beside me when I got my feet to work again. I glared at Noah’s back as she spoke. “But yeah, I’ve had detention twice.”

“What for?” I questioned, hoping that he trips on a rock and falls. Trip, trip, trip.

“I skipped volleyball practice three times in my sophomore year," she admitted. “I hated it, the coach made us run so much.”

I snorted. “That sounds like something I would do.”

My car was first in line and Marissa and I stopped there. “I have to give you this invitation.”

She dug around her bag for a moment before she retrieved a red envelope, one used for Christmas and birthday cards, or other special events. It had a small, thin bow on the outside of it and my name was written neatly in black ink. It wasn’t Noah’s handwriting, so it was probably Ethel’s. I stared at the envelope in my hands, not bothering to open it. It’s for the gala; it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “I don’t know if I’m going.”

“What? We already bought dresses!” she frowned. “And I wanted to buy matching shoes on Friday.”

I shrugged. “I want to go, I just don’t know if I still have a date.”

“What?” She furrowed her eyebrows and I looked backwards towards her brother who was leaning against his car, which was beside Marissa’s. He probably didn’t want to go home because her mother was there. What a coward.

“I don’t think he wants to go with me anymore, or that he ever wanted to go with me,” I admitted. “He hates me.”

“Noah may be a jerk, well he is, but he wouldn’t do that. He went with us when we bought the dresses. He knows you want to go. Besides, he wouldn’t have said yes if he didn’t want to go with you," she told me.

“But—,” I started but I was cut off by Marissa.

“What is he getting out of going with you?” she asked. “He gets the bad part of the deal. You get to go and hang out with me. He has to go to his wretched stepmother’s party. He hates parties. He has to wear formal clothing. He hates formal clothing. My family is going to be there. He hates my family. Why would he agree to go with you in the first place just to back out later, when it’s the same circumstances the entire time? Nothing has changed. It’s not like you back out of your part of the agreement; there is no agreement. Everything is still the same.”

I stared at her, my lips slightly parted. “But—.”

I was cut off yet again by Marissa. “Chloe asked him to go with her to one of my mother’s galas last year.”

“He said no and slammed the door in her face," she stated bluntly. “She even bought an outfit so she would look cute while asking him, thinking that he couldn’t say no to a blonde girl with a pretty outfit. He did without hesitation, in case you’re wondering.”

“But we made a deal. I won’t bother him at the gala,” I told her. “He’s only my admission.”

“That’s another bad reason why he could have said no, too.  At least if you two were to talk- he wouldn’t look so lonely," she stated. “But you’re going to be taking to me and he’s just going to be sitting there, in a crowd of adults and my teenage cousins.”

I stared at her, only managing to blink in response. Why did he even agree to go with me?

“He doesn’t hate you as much as you assume he does.” She offered me a smile before walking in the direction of her car. All I could do was stare at the envelope in my hands.