Day Ten

As the day went on, I felt increasingly worse about finding dirt on Gwyn.  Not only was it difficult because of the time constraint Damon had given me, but I also had rehearsal after school, so my only hope after our awkward lunch conversation was speaking with her in Art.

"That's so pretty." she said, leaning over the table to peek at my tiger lily oil pastel drawing.  "I want that shade in lipstick."

"Thank you," I laughed, looking down at my messy work.  In comparison to Gwyn's buzzing cityscape drawing, mine looked like a loopy kindergartener's, but I smiled at her compliment nonetheless.

"I feel so sorry for Mark,"  Gwyn puckered her lips, smudging her drawing with her thumb.  "I totally forgot about our date today.  He looked so sad," she pouted,  "I had no idea about the play, either.  It's like a double whammy."

"I know,"  I sympathized, setting my oil pastels to the side.  "He's a trooper, though.  I'm sure he'll move on."

She looked up at me, resting her cheek in her palm.  "Do you think so? Does he move on easily?"

"Um,"  I thought about it for a second.  "I guess it depends, really, on the situation.  Why do you ask?"

She bit a glossed lip and looked to the side, "Just a question."  She gave me a reassuring smile before picking up a navy pastel and scribbling on her drawing.  "He just doesn't seem like the type.  I could be totally wrong, though.  We're still getting to know each other, and everything."

I couldn't deny how strange it was to have this conversation at this point in time, but maybe it was just what I needed to show Damon--Gwyn doubted Mark. It was harmless, but substantial enough. 

If I were to rummage through my bag for the camera he'd given me, it would have been too obvious and too late.  Instead, I glanced down at my phone and started an audio recording.

"I think you guys know each other pretty well.  You've been together for like, two months, right?" I looked up at her, but she was oblivious, smudging her paper. 

"Almost three,"  she said, "But I still feel like we don't know each other.  He doesn't really open up.  Like I ask about his home life, or anything other than school, and he completely shuts me down.  I can't get anything out of him."  she sighed, "I just don't know how much longer I can keep it up."

It wasn't a surprise hearing that Mark was closed off to Gwyn, but I didn't expect her to be so upset by it. 

"What do you mean?"  I asked, but before I could say anything else, the table buzzed as Gwyn's phone lit up with an incoming phone call.

She looked at it and a small smile crept onto her face before she glanced up at me, "Sorry, girlie, I need to take this."

No, no, no.  I bit back a protest as she sat up from the table and made her way out of the building.  Just as I was about to get the details.

What was so important that she needed to leave the classroom?  Who was so important?

The brief, vague audio recording wouldn't suffice for Damon.  I needed hard proof.

I looked up at the clock on the wall and over at my sleeping Art teacher, deciding that it was worth it to slip out of class and investigate.

Quickly, I put my supplies away and grabbed the camera from my bag, my chest tightening with excitement and anticipation as I tip-toed through the halls, following the sing-song echo of Gwyn's voice.

"Yeah, I'm on my way, silly.  See you soon."  Her laugh faded, leaving only the clip-clop of heels against the tile floor.

If she were to see me, I could always use the 'bathroom card', but I kept a safe distance just to be careful.  My heart sunk once she disappeared from my sight, but as I crept around the corner,  I caught a glimpse of her platinum hair in the sunshine of the courtyard.

Pacing down the hall, I crouched next to the double doors, just below the window where Gwyn stood, holding her phone as a mirror to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss.

If anyone had told me two weeks ago that I'd be skipping class to spy on Gwyn with a Nikon camera, I'd have thought it was ridiculous.  But now, even if I wanted to change my mind, I had no choice but to stay.  I'd have to crawl down the hall like a bug or else she'd see me.

Raising the camera to the window, I managed to press record, and slowly poked my head up, blood pumping loud in my ears.

Gwyn paced from side to side, combing her fingers through her hair as both of us waited.  After what seemed like minutes, her cherry lips broke out into a wide smile.

A boy appeared in the opposite corner of the courtyard, his bouncy brown curls instantly recognizable. 

Hunter Hollingsworth.

With unwavering eyes, I locked onto Hunter's face, which reciprocated Gwyn's delight.  He jogged over and scooped her up, spinning around like two Bachelor contestants reunited.

A wave of nausea flooded through me, the same churning in my gut as when I'd seen Gwyn show up in Kyoto's last night with a guy.  It couldn't be coincidence that she was meeting Hunter again, today.

"Oh, my God,"  Gwyn laughed, her arms folded tightly around his neck, "Put me down before someone sees."

Too late, Gwyneth.

"Come on, you love it."  Hunter set her down, his hands reluctantly sliding off her waist.  "You look gorgeous, by the way, as always."

She rolled her eyes, an irrepressible smile on her lips.  "You're too nice to me."

"I don't think I'm nice enough," he smirked, closing the distance between them to brush his lips against her cheek.  He mumbled into her ear, and although I couldn't make out his exact words, the look on Gwyn's face said enough.

"Not now,"  she muttered, glancing in my direction. 

I ducked under the window, hoping and praying that she hadn't seen me.  Silence waved in the air, my heart thundering louder with each passing moment.

Gwyn cleared her throat and continued, "We have to make this quick.  Do you have it?"

"Yeah, its right here." he said.

Slowly, I peeked up, raising the camera to the window. 

Hunter pulled a small, silver bracelet from his pants pocket and placed it in Gwyn's open hand, cupping his palm over hers.  Although I'd only caught a glimpse, it was undoubtedly the same bracelet Mark had given her when they'd started dating. 

"Thank you,"  she said, smiling up at him.  "Can you clasp it for me?"

Hunter smiled and delicately pinched the clasp around her wrist, holding the back of her hand as they examined the sparkling silver in the sun. 

"It's beautiful."  he said, twisting it between his fingers. 

"Tiffany, of course."  she said, pursing her lips.  "He's been asking me all day why I wasn't wearing it."

"What'd you say?"  Hunter looked between her eyes.

"That a friend was polishing it for me."  She smirked up at him.  "Still looks pretty dirty."

"Well, excuse me, princess."  Hunter's eyebrows raised, his pearly white smile widening.  "You're the one who left it behind for me to find last night."

"By accident."  she pouted.

"On my pillow,"  he laughed, and the blonde shook her head.  "Classic G.R.H. move."

"I told you not to call me that,"  she whined, pinching his cheeks.  "Double H."

He laughed and grabbed her face, leaning in till their faces were mere inches apart.  "You can call me whatever you want, Gwyn." 

And then he kissed her.

I tried to look away, but my eyes were fixated on WBHS's two most popular students' locked lips.  It was horrifying, and the longer I sat on the tile floor recording them, the sicker I felt.

I couldn't believe she was doing this to Mark.  He had been so good to her--so loyal, yet here she was meeting one of my closest friends in secret, sleeping in his bed, kissing him in the courtyard.

I clicked the camera off and ducked under the window, wishing I could wipe the scene from my memory--wondering how in the world I was going to tell my best friend that his girlfriend was cheating on him.