A long delayed Chapter 4, thanks to a) lots of procrastination, and b) lots of inappropriate plotbunnies. Sorry, everyone. Many thanks for all ya'll's kind reviews, and don't forget to review this one too.
All standard disclaimers apply.
You'd think Monday would be a hell of a lot more interesting after all that drama on Saturday. Five kids from five social circles, meeting each other and breaking all those barriers and so on...it doesn't happen every day, you know? I mean, with all those fucking pressures back in place on Monday, and at least Andy and me having to deal (or not deal) with all our friends, you'd expect someone to be entertained.
Yeah. I can definitely see John being entertained by high school psychodrama, even if he was in the middle of it.
Except not, because I haven't even seen any of them, except Andy and that was only briefly, in the hallway. And only because we run in the same circles.
Funny how that works out. We're perfect for each other, in a way. We're both popular richies, we know the same people, we have the same attitudes, sometimes. We both struggle with the same social pressures. And I won't deny it, Andy is very attractive...Shannon about faints every time I so much as mention him. She's convinced Andy and I are fucking soulmates or something.
But, you know, after Saturday, I wouldn't dream of it. Not even if this whole deal falls apart, even if everything that can go wrong goes wrong (it's like Bender uses careless words as weapons or something, and then there's Brian and how he can't let insults roll off him, and...oh God, how is this ever going to work – we're all too sensitive...).
Anyway, Andy looked over and saw me standing with Chelsey and a few other girls by my locker, and there was this question in his eyes. Like he knew why I was barely listening to the girls' chatter because I wasn't thinking about them at all. I was thinking about...well, I was thinking about John.
I still remember the kiss. Damn one-track mind. Day, night, morning, evening...ever since he kissed me, it's like that single event is a core that my mind revolves around constantly. I guess, I don't know, I guess that I'll always remember it. My first, surprisingly.
God, I'm such an idiot.
I didn't have a response to Andy's question. How could I? I haven't seen any of them. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head a tiny bit, to let him know. I guess he understood, because he nodded and left.
I hope he finds the strength to think for himself.
Better than I can do.
Shannon noticed him leaving. "OH MY GOD, is that ANDREW CLARK? He..." and then I left, because I couldn't stand to hear her talk about Andy. I know how she gossips, how she thinks of him. As a mass of blond hair and muscles, a stud, to add to her fucking trophy collection...and it doesn't hurt that he's almost as popular as Justin O'Riley.
Oh God, who am I kidding? I talked the same way, I thought the same way. Hell, I made it my life's game to catch every eligible bachelor in school. Not an easy task, but it was one worthy of Claire Standish, the fucking princess. I didn't even think twice about...oh hell, I was tease. A fucking tease.
"You said it yourself, sex is a weapon, you use it to get respect!"
"No, I never said that, she twisted my words around!"
I lied. I didn't think I was lying, but John called me on every excuse. Allison did, they all did. They saw my blouses, my miniskirts. God, what a little bitch I was. Every word I said to Allison...she's no innocent, but at least she didn't pretend to be pristine. Like I did. And then tried to deny that, too.
Oh, did I say I hadn't seen any of the others? I lied. I saw John Bender in the hallway, too, and I'm such a fucking coward.
He was lounging casually against the wall, off to the side of one of the busiest intersections in the school. Everyone else was running to get to class on time (40 seconds left, I was timing it), but he...he just leaned there, arms folded, a smirk on his face that was known and feared, despised, among most of the student population. But then he saw me, too, way across the hall. Surrounded by my friends, natch.
I could have sworn I saw the smirk disappear, and his eyes flashed as I nearly passed through the intersection. I could have stopped and said hi, even across a very wide, very crowded hallway. I could have done anything, but all I did was twist around and walk backwards for a few seconds, watching him.
I couldn't help it. The look on his face...it was the same stare he'd caught me in during detention, the one I couldn't turn away from. I about had a heart attack, but then Chelsey yanked me around the corner.
"Sweets, you couldn't ignore me if you tried."
Nothing happened the rest of the day, but I couldn't – fucking – get him. Out. Of my head. Mrs. Withers could have been speaking Greek, Jackie could have been chattering about magpies, I could have been floating in hell for all I cared. His hair – his face – his eyes – the way metal rattled on him wherever he walked...nobody, I mean nobody has put a hold on me like this.
I'm scared.
And now the day is over, and nothing's changed. Still waiting for my dearest mommy to pick me up (it won't be for another 20 minutes at least), still trapped in the same circle. Trapped in my fucking mind. Maybe I should call Allison tonight, she might understa—
"Well, if it ain't the prom queen. Looking for a ride, Cherry?"
Oh God.
He's still wearing my earring.
