Fake Girl

With August's arm around my waist, I hurried into school. I had my eyes on my bright pink pumps, my hands gripping the thick braid that hung over my shoulder. I could hardly stand to look at anybody - couldn't stand to see the hate in their eyes. Because now, everybody hated me. It had only taken a day for the rumors to spread - only a day to make the entire student body hate me. I'd known this would happen. Everybody adored Will and tolerated me for the sole reason that Will adored me. But now that Will hated me . . . All that tolerance evaporated, to be replaced by disgust.

The thoughts and gossip were harsh. I wasn't used to being this hated. I was used to people thinking I was bitchy or weird, or more often then not just ignoring me completely. I'd heard some hateful things when Will and I had first starting going out . . . But that hate wasn't really hate. It was just petty thoughts from jealous girls. It was completely unlike what I was experiencing now. This was, in some cases, actual hate. And there was a lot of it - coming from all sides.

The only person who didn't hate me was the one person I wished hated me. August. He loved me so much it frightened and confused me. He hadn't left my side from yesterday morning. He'd taken me home yesterday and spent the whole day coddling. I'd always loved it when Will cared for me - but when August 'cared' for me . . . Well it didn't make me feel cared for at all. It made me feel smothered.

For the time being though, I was too busy trying to block out hateful thoughts to feel smothered. I ran my fingers over the bumpy contours of my braid nervously as I kept my eyes down, watching my bubble gum pink, white polka dotted summer dress swish as I walked. I felt like I was in some kind of twilight zone. The thoughts around me seemed louder then the voices - reverberating through my head. Everybody who saw me thought about me - thought about the rumors about me. There were countless rumors about my breakup with Will, each more outlandish then the last.

"Huh," the little noise came from August. It was a combination of curiosity and vague appreciation. I lifted my eyes to see what had gotten his attention and saw that his eyes were on my locker. Down the hall from us was my locker . . . Covered in an assortment of colorful papers like fliers on a bulletin board. I was close enough to read some of them.

Cheater.
Skank.
Bitch.

I bit my lip and exhaled very slowly. This was extreme. People were actually congregating to let me know how much they hated me. Sure, they'd done it anonymously. But usually, people were too spineless to even do that, preferring to hide behind their computers and harass people via 'formspring' or some other Internet garbage.

"People are stupid," August said simply, not offering any words of comfort.
"Mhm," I murmured, my voice breaking as I slipped away from August's hold on my waist. I put a hand over my mouth and blinked away tears and made my way over to my locker. Aware of the eyes on me, I began to rip down the papers. I felt August's presence behind me but said nothing, concentrating on not crying.

"Would ya like some assistance?" he asked in a neutral tone.
"Can you please just leave me alone?" I asked, my voice sounding more vulnerable then I would have liked.

"If you'll just look at me first," he said. So I held back my tears and turned around to face August. He was staring into my eyes with his emerald ones. There was no compassion in them. Only greed.
"You shouldn't let those silly lil' pricks get to ya," he assured me.

I wiped my dry eyes, knowing that my desire to cry showed in them despite the lack of tears. "Fine, fine. Just go, okay?"
"Alright love, alright," he said, fingering my braid before releasing it and letting it thump back against my shoulder.

"I'll see you later," I mumbled dryly.
"I'll see you in a -" he cut off abruptly when someone called his name - well a variation of his name.

"Auggie!"

He froze, and his expression altered completely. From the one he usually wore - one of barely concealed smugness to one of confusion. His usually tense jaw relaxed a bit and his lips parted slightly. And his eyes . . . His eyes changed color right in front of me. For an instance, the green was gone, replaced by a sky blue color. I couldn't help but note how it suited him better. His green eyes usually seemed so . . . sinister. Like a snake. But the light blue . . . It reminded me of an innocent little blonde child.

"August?" I asked, confused.
"What? What's going on?" he asked, seeming even more confused then I was. His voice was different too - slightly. This new accent still sounded vaguely British, but it was different. Not as crisp and proper.

"August, what's the matter with you?" I demanded, not out of concern for him, but out of curiousity.
"August!" came another voice, a much louder, male voice. The same one that had called him just a moment ago.

And just like that, August was back to normal. His eyes flashed back to the sinister green and his expression became hostile - much more hostile then usual. His jaw clenched and he narrowed his eyes as he turned to look at the door. I followed my gaze to see that he was scowling at a man I did not recognize. He like he was in his late teens - maybe early twenties. He was tan with a mop of black, curly hair and a pair of bright green eyes. He was dressed well - similiarly to August with his black sports' coat and designer jeans. He was striding in our general direction.

"August!" he announced, clamping August on the back. He said the name like it was a grand joke in itself.
August exhaled dramatically in annoyance, turning to look over his shoulder at the taller guy. "Marshal," he returned curtly like it was some kind of horrid insult.

"Been lookin' all over for ya mate," Marshal said grandly in a distinct British accent. All I could think was "Not another one."
"Well I've been 'ere," August said in a clipped tone.

"Testy, testy," Marshal said, rasing his hands as if he'd been accused of something.
"I told you not to come see me 'ere," August said plainly, refusing to meet Marhsal's eyes.

"This is important," Marshal said, his voice immediatly becoming firm as he placed a commanding hand on August's shoulder in a possesive way. It faintly reminded me of the way August touched me.
"Fine," August hissed, his eyes snapping back to me. I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"I'll see ya after school," he said in a stressed but light tone, pecking me hastily on the forehead, "I have some buisness to attend to."
"Okay," was all I said.

"Be good," he said before walking away with Marshal, both speaking in hushed tones. I watched as they both walked out the door. I was completely lost, but I welcomed the feeling. I'd rather be confused then depressed. I was glad for this suspicious development. It gave me incentive to look more into what exactly August was. I'd lost interest when I'd lost Will but now . . . Well my curious was instatable. And maybe, just maybe, finding out what August was would help me get rid of him somehow. Maybe it would help me get my life back. A feeble, feeble hope filled me. Enough to keep me from crying. More then enough.

I went back to work, ripping down the hateful papers, my mind hard at work. I was thinking of the strange event I'd just witnessed - August's weird little trance and the cryptic encounter with Marshal. They were both very suspicious. Sure, pretty much everything August did was suspicious, but this stuck for some reason. Maybe because I knew nothing about August other then his name. I didn't know where he lived, or about his family, or if he even had a family. I'd never seen him react with anyone outside of school. I knew nothing of his past. I knew nothing about him at all. He was like a phantom who had just shown up in my life with nothing to offer but a life of imprisoment for me.

"You're not fooling anybody."

Clutching the papers to my chest, I whirled to see Heather standing next to my locker. I looked at her closely, thinking. To anyone else, she would look like an average girl. Kind of plain, but with looks inhanced by an expert makeup job. Long, combed out, wavy dirty blonde hair. Pale skin and a tall, gangly frame. Average clothes - skinny jeans and a striped blue and white sweater. To anyone else, she seemed . . . average. But to me . . . Well I saw more. I saw someone who was kind and strong and loving and inteligent. Someone who was happy but not blinded by love. Someone who cared. Someone I wished I could be.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, surprised that she was even talking to me. The set of her lips and the way she crossed her arms over her chest made it clear it wasn't a social call though.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about Nettie," she said, shocking me by using my nickname, "You always know."

Of the many things she'd noticed, my ability to know everything had not gotten past her.

"Well, I don't," I said, opening my locker.
She pursed her lips, aware that I was lying but deciding to save time and just explain it to me anyway. "I know you didn't use Will to get to August."

"Oh yeah? How?" I growled, not looking at her as I stuffed some of the papers into my locker.
"Because . . . because you love him," she said lowly, even though nobody was around. The hallway was clear - seeing as the bell for homeroom had already rung.

"And if I did, how would you know?" I quipped, hoping to deter her by answering her question with a question. I didn't want to lie and say that I didn't love Will. Not again.
"I have an eye for these kinds of things Amunet," she said, "I know when people are in love. I can just see it. The chemistry between them. It amazes me that not everybody else can see it. But that's not the point. The point is that I saw it between you and Will."

"I know that you and Mike are soul mates and whatever," I said, angrily stuffing papers into my locker, "But not every other couple is deeply in love."
"I agree," she said solemnly, "But you and Will were."

"If I was in love with him, why would I have broken up with him?" I asked rhetorically.
"That's the part I'm trying to figure out . . ." she mumbled.

"Well, good luck," I muttered, slamming my locker closed, only to realize that I'd left one on it. A bright pink peice of paper with the word Slut on it. Charming.
"I don't need your luck. I'm gonna find out what's going on here. I'm gonna find out how August got you to break up with Will and why," she said, a fiery glint in her eyes.

"What makes you think August made me break up with Will?" I demanded, deciding that answering questions with questions was a safe way to go.
"The fact that you love Will and hate August," she said curtly, "And the fact that I don't trust that foreign freak."

"You shouldn't stick your nose into other people's buisness Heather," I told her. It sounded like I was threatening her but really, I was warning her. I didn't want August to have any reason to hurt her.
"I know you want me to help you Amunet," she said, "But you're too afraid to ask. You're afraid of someone. And that scares me."

"I'm not afraid of anything," I hissed, ripping the last paper down and looking her dead in the eye as I lied. There was only one thing I was really afraid of anymore and that was something happening to Will.
"Let me help you with that," she snapped, grabbing the paper from my hands. She pulled a pen from her pocket and flipped the paper over and then leaned against the lockers to angrily scribble something on the paper.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this. With, or without your help," she growled, slamming the paper down on my locker. It stuck due to the tap that lingered on it. With that, she just turned and stomped away. Her thoughts were centered on figuring this out. I sighed and looked at the paper. The worst slur so far was written on it.

Liar