A/N: Sorry to take forever. I had a bad cause of Suckuitisis. Enjoy.
It is, or was, or will be common in some obscure areas of the world to sacrifice a random member of a tribe to whatever power may be. I always figured I couldn't be sacrificed; who would they shun? But now, as I contemplate the meaning of the world 'sacrifice', my theory is suddenly utterly chicken or the egg. Which came first... the Heather or the sacrifice?
Hazel looks at me and I look at Spinner and Spinner looks at no one, feeling in his pocket. I imagine what is in his pocket as Hazel imagines a rope around my neck, the-best-friend's-man-stealer hanged because she is a skank. Welcome to the human fucking race, Hazel Aden. At least, that's what I want to say, but I don't because of the lump in Gavin 'Spinner' Mason's pocket that could be a thousand and one things. A necklace for Paige, or maybe just some change, or maybe even some E. Heather, I imagine him saying. Dude. Want to, you know...
Then he makes me say it but I don't say it because he doesn't say anything in the first place. I sigh and run my finger across my jaw because he's stupid. Or because I feel something there. It is my hair and I'm imaging things again. I determine my entire life is imaginary and before I can deeply analyze this thought, tear it apart and leave it marooned on the floor, the bell rings and I slowly pick up books and papers.
Hazel hesitates, waiting for me at the door, but I hesitate for Spinner, who hesitates in general, waiting for us to leave. We hesitate and wait, but this endless triangle of not doing anything kills me so I make the first move for the door.
"Heather!" Hazel touches my arm, stopping me. I stop and look at her. "We need to talk." I watch Spinner as she pulls me to the side. I see him moving inside the classroom, reaching in his pocket again. What IS it?
"Yeah?" I'm not paying attention to her, because I know what she'll say, what she wants to say.
"I've really been debating all weekend whether or not to tell Paige about..." She hesitates yet again. "About the party. I would have done it in a second already but... well, Paige really... really loves Spinner and I can't believe he'd do this without..." She stops but I'm not offended because I've already stopped listening. Spin glances at us and turns quickly away. Now it is he alone who is waiting for our exit. He goes into his pocket and then to his mouth, like something has hit him in the face.
"What I'm saying is," Hazel says finally, "Are you going to go after Spinner, or was this the last time?"
"I'm not interested in Spinner," I reply, staring at him. "I never was. I was just a little... uninhibited for some reason." I look directly into her eyes. "You don't have to tell Paige because there is nothing to tell. Nothing actually happened. And nothing will." I see doubt in her eyes, shaking in little pearls in the back of her mind, but she nods anyway.
"Okay," She says, her doubt coating her voice like honey. I smile as if to say, 'It's okay, I wouldn't believe me either,' but it fails and my smile turns into a half smile which melts into a frown as she walks away. I glance at Spinner and know what the lump was. He pulls out the contents and looks at it intently in his hand. A crumbled Pop tart rests in his palm as I turn and walk away from the room.
It is, or was, or will be common in some obscure areas of the world to sacrifice a random member of a tribe to whatever power may be. I always figured I couldn't be sacrificed; who would they shun? But now, as I contemplate the meaning of the world 'sacrifice', my theory is suddenly utterly chicken or the egg. Which came first... the Heather or the sacrifice?
Hazel looks at me and I look at Spinner and Spinner looks at no one, feeling in his pocket. I imagine what is in his pocket as Hazel imagines a rope around my neck, the-best-friend's-man-stealer hanged because she is a skank. Welcome to the human fucking race, Hazel Aden. At least, that's what I want to say, but I don't because of the lump in Gavin 'Spinner' Mason's pocket that could be a thousand and one things. A necklace for Paige, or maybe just some change, or maybe even some E. Heather, I imagine him saying. Dude. Want to, you know...
Then he makes me say it but I don't say it because he doesn't say anything in the first place. I sigh and run my finger across my jaw because he's stupid. Or because I feel something there. It is my hair and I'm imaging things again. I determine my entire life is imaginary and before I can deeply analyze this thought, tear it apart and leave it marooned on the floor, the bell rings and I slowly pick up books and papers.
Hazel hesitates, waiting for me at the door, but I hesitate for Spinner, who hesitates in general, waiting for us to leave. We hesitate and wait, but this endless triangle of not doing anything kills me so I make the first move for the door.
"Heather!" Hazel touches my arm, stopping me. I stop and look at her. "We need to talk." I watch Spinner as she pulls me to the side. I see him moving inside the classroom, reaching in his pocket again. What IS it?
"Yeah?" I'm not paying attention to her, because I know what she'll say, what she wants to say.
"I've really been debating all weekend whether or not to tell Paige about..." She hesitates yet again. "About the party. I would have done it in a second already but... well, Paige really... really loves Spinner and I can't believe he'd do this without..." She stops but I'm not offended because I've already stopped listening. Spin glances at us and turns quickly away. Now it is he alone who is waiting for our exit. He goes into his pocket and then to his mouth, like something has hit him in the face.
"What I'm saying is," Hazel says finally, "Are you going to go after Spinner, or was this the last time?"
"I'm not interested in Spinner," I reply, staring at him. "I never was. I was just a little... uninhibited for some reason." I look directly into her eyes. "You don't have to tell Paige because there is nothing to tell. Nothing actually happened. And nothing will." I see doubt in her eyes, shaking in little pearls in the back of her mind, but she nods anyway.
"Okay," She says, her doubt coating her voice like honey. I smile as if to say, 'It's okay, I wouldn't believe me either,' but it fails and my smile turns into a half smile which melts into a frown as she walks away. I glance at Spinner and know what the lump was. He pulls out the contents and looks at it intently in his hand. A crumbled Pop tart rests in his palm as I turn and walk away from the room.