I twisted and turned in my bed, sheets forming something of a cocoon around my bare legs and oversized tee.
"Cassie."
I scowled even in my sleep at the sound of the stupid nickname. Brianna had taken to shortening my name every which way as of late, and I stopped caring enough to correct her.
"Yes, Brie?" Payback doth come in the form of cheese as a nickname.
"Blech," I heard her fake puke. "Wake up, lazybones. We have class in an hour."
I stretched my arms and yawned obnoxiously loud, reveling in the warmth of my big fluffy down comforter. The mornings that passed since the Garwin Kiss (God, was I really counting down the days in Garwin moments?) had been pretty routine for Brianna and I. Alarm would go off, I'd remain in my coma, she'd get up and snooze it, I'd remain in my coma, she'd shout my name out four or five times while I'd remain in my coma. Eventually I'd wake to an update of get-your-ass-moving-class-starts-in-t-minus-sixty-minutes.
Yep, things were peachy on our side of the dorms.
While Brianna and I got closer by default, other friendships - like Ry and I - simply dissipated until they were whittled down to a wave or a nod in passing, had the occasion ever occur. And it never really did, I realized. Ry wasn't usually in my vicinity; he was smart and accomplished and studied a lot. I took to my room or the cafeteria, pausing briefly through out the days to finish homework on the fly or take showers and do laundry.
And, unsurprisingly enough, Reid took to ignoring me. Again.
As if we hadn't sucked face in front of a large populus.
I'd totally prepared myself to ignore him, or at least brush him off, until I realized that he wasn't making an attempt at anything - not by word or look or deed. And with that, I grew even more annoyed because I could guess at what he was doing. He was putting himself in a power position - kissing me because he knew he could, and because he knew it'd bother Ry. He probably knew Ry trash-talked him. Gossip seemed to spread like wildfire here. And I was a pawn in the game that is Reid Garwin. I'd been warned. I didn't listen.
And I suddenly realized how foolish I felt at thinking someone so vital to the Spenser kids would actually pause for a girl like me. I mean, sure - I was different, a little out there on the scale of 'interesting', a good gossip piece for pillow talk. And I wasn't a dog. I got a few stares every now and then, from anyone who dared to check me out. But I wasn't a raven haired hottie like Kate or a wispy blonde like Sarah. They were dainty and delicate and - dare I say - sexy.
I couldn't help but snort at my own revelation: I have the sex appeal of a rock.
Kate doesn't pick fights in class. Sarah doesn't throw boys against lockers with intent to hurt them. Even my 'fake' sexy isn't all that sexy - Aaron Abbott was drunk; it's not that hard to rouse a drunken teenage boy.
I found Reid's indifference an annoyance for about a minute before realizing it for the blessing it was. No questions. No acknowledgments. No bullshit. I was free to pass Go and collect $200. I could return to passing my time here, get on the first flight home come August and pretend Spenser was just a bad dream I'd had for the past year.
Yeah, easy. Sure.
I still had to deal with Ryan Winstead. I'm sure he'll take to being my friend again, since I'm so keen on taking his good advice. And I'm sure I don't deserve any less than what he gives me - silent treatment, anyone?
"I hate this class," Lily groaned as we stepped into our first-period Drama class with the incorrigeable Mrs. Powell.
"I second that," I moaned. I wasn't one for acting, so I knew from the start that this class wouldn't be my strongest grade here at Spenser. And, to make it worse, Powell had assigned us three very boring movies over the course of three weeks - none of which I'd been able to stay awake through. All of which were going to appear on the midterm.
"What's up with you and Ry?" Lily gave me a side glance and a questioning brow.
"Nothing," I shrugged. Shit. So he was talking about me now?
"Didn't look like nothing when he cold-shouldered you in the library yesterday," Lily spoke sarcastically.
"Do spill," Cole spoke from behind us as he threw his arms around both of our shoulders.
"Oh no," I moaned. "Is it obvious that he hates me?"
"Well, Ry usually isn't so..."
"Distant," Lily finished. "Unsocial."
"I think he's mad at me for the Reid thing," I felt my head drop. "He warned me about him and I took it with a grain of salt."
"Oh please," Lily waved it off. "Reid practically attacked you, from what I've heard."
"That's not what I heard," Cole laughed. "I heard miss thing over here was all up on him like swimwear."
"What?" I spoke a bit too loudly. A few girls threw us looks from over their shoulders. "What do you mean?"
"That's not what happened," Lily elbowed him. "Reid's just playing his usual games with our girl here and it probably hurt Ry's ego."
"Well, duh," Cole looked at us stupidly. "Ry wants Cassandra. Bad."
My eyes nearly bugged out as I looked at Cole - and then Lily, for an explanation.
"Cole!" Lily threw him a warning glance.
"No, no," I grabbed Cole by his tie. "You can't say something like that and then not explain!"
"He's just kidding," Lily smiled fakely and kicked Cole under her desk. "Ry just knows things and doesn't want anyone to get hurt. He's a sweetheart like that."
"Sure," Cole muttered with sarcasm.
"I hope you're joking," I spoke solely to Cole. "I'd rather he hate me than..."
"Than like you?" Lily looked at me dumbly. "Ryan is a good guy. It's not a bad thing."
"No," I shook my head. "Ryan is a good guy, of course. But that's my thing. He's too good. Too good for me."
"Ugh," Cole moaned. "Spare me the pity party. If you ever plan on patching your friendship up with Ry, you better get on that-"
"Now," Lily finished for him. "So we can all be a happy group of friends again."
Lily and I had became almost as close as Brianna and I had; she was easier to talk to about Ry. I never knew where to draw the line with Brianna - I knew she liked Ry, that much was obvious. It only made talking about him awkward; I didn't want her to get any ideas about my feelings toward him (which were strictly amicable).
I slumped in my chair as Mrs. Powell made her grand entrance; I wasn't really looking at anything, sort of staring out into space - so imagine my surprise when I heard this come out of her mouth:
"Take a seat over there, Garwin."
My head shot up and I felt my mouth gape. What the hell was Reid doing in my drama class?
I watched him very inconspicuously as he walked to about the fifth row of seats in the lecture hall - two rows above mine - and took a seat next to this kid Henry Seville. As he sat I looked toward the front of the class and didn't dare turn my head even ninety degrees in his direction, even though I wanted to. I wanted to know why I had to bear yet another hour with this enigma - one was more than enough.
"Dude, you're taking this class?" My ears perked at Henry Seville's question obviously meant for Reid.
"I got kicked out of French," Reid answered nonchalantly. I could imagine him shrugging it off. "LeFrou didn't appreciate my strong personality."
I almost snorted. Henry Seville did, and a few girls giggled as well.
I felt Lily elbow me and I leaned my head toward her, knowing what she had to say was for my ears only.
"Lucky you," she spoke lowly and I could hear the sarcasm in her voice. I smiled as I reached over to her notebook and scribbled a little note:
Fuck. My. Life.
I heard her laugh and cover her mouth to prevent it from reaching Powell. Of course, that wasn't possible.
"Anything you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Miss Duffy?"
She shook her blonde head enthusiastically.
Mrs. Powell had us sitting through about forty five minutes worth of old-school Othello before announcing that we'd be watching a modern-day based movie on the Shakespeare classic next week. I didn't bother reading the book, although we were supposed to have been more than half way through it by now. And I should have been working more closely on understanding the dialogue, because we were going to be putting on a performance by Christmas break - which I was not looking forward to. Everyone had to re-enact a scene from the book, of Mrs. Powell's choice. She was going to assign us our scenes today, right before the end of our class.
"OK, everyone listen for your name and make note of who your partner is," she shouted above the low hum of a grumbling class. "I strongly suggest you work your time out together and meet at least once a day to practice."
She began listing off names: Corrine Bailey and Mark Carrigan, Denise Martiney and Quinn Malik, Rita Irizarry and John Davis...
"Lily Duffy and Cole Sutton," Mrs. Powell looked up at them from her half-moon glasses. "In keeping with the spirit of Shakespeare, that should be an interesting performance. Enjoy, you two."
Cole and Lily were an unbreakable coupling - even Spenser teachers understood that.
"I get to choke you out," Cole gloated.
"Sounds hot," Lily whispered. I snorted and shook my head.
"Cassandra Dean," Mrs. Powell shouted out, and I sat up almost instantly. "I originally paired you with Trevor Wallace but we're expecting him to be out sick for a while." Mono, I rememberd someone mentioning it in the hall. It was going around.
I almost groaned at the revelation of this fact.
"Therefore, I'm pairing you with Reid Garwin until I figure out what to do with him," she nodded at us and I slumped in my seat. "Reid, you have about a month's worth of work to catch up on, so I doubt you'll be ready for the play. Give me a chance to work around this and help Cassandra study her lines. Practice with her."
I suppressed a huff and turned my head slowly upward to where Reid sat, looking way too-cool-for-school. His eyes met mine and I raised an indignant eyebrow at him. He twiddled his fingers at me in acknowledgment and I looked away, returning my glance toward the front of the class. I didn't even want to really look at him, get a good look at him. I didn't want to have to remember his face as anything more than a blur.
The bell rang then and I gathered my notebooks, refusing to approach Reid about the whole stupid Othello thing. I could deal with it another time. If it had been my old high school, I probably would have just abandoned the whole project all together.
Ah, yes. Back when I didn't give a rat's ass. Back when my life consisted of getting wasted and arrested, in that order.
Now that Spenser was my second-calling to goodness, I actually had to care about things like homework and exams and stupid, stupid Shakespeare plays.
Luckily, Reid didn't bother asking me about it. I hadn't expected him to, anyway - it wasn't his problem. He didn't have to perform in front of the whole school. He was only assigned to help me.
The day passed by in a whirlwind of events, none of which I payed any special attention to. Lunch was as entertaining as it always was: Lily and Brianna and I would made random conversation as Cole and Ry and Donovan would talk sports or video games. I would most definitely not glance toward Reid's far-off table, where Very Important People clearly sat - Caleb and Pogue and Tyler, along with the girlfriends who occasionally greeted me and made small talk. It was sort of awkward, considering Reid ignored me as usual and I knew they knew that, as well - but they were sweet girls and we got along regardless.
My Criminal Law class let out early, and I got a chance to dip into the hallways before the midday mad rush back to the dorms. As I made my way from one building to another, anticipating a shower and long nap, I felt someone's presence behind me. I went to turn and look behind me, and yelped when an arm was thrown over my shoulder.
"Hey, Dean," Reid whispered in my ear. My heart both slowed and sped at the same time.
"Don't sneak up on me like that!" I snapped. He smirked his trademark Cheshire half-grin.
"I like scaring you."
"That's creepy," I replied. His damned arm was still around my shoulder. I wanted to rip it off me indignantly.
"You mean sneaky," he corrected, and continued before I could object. "Sort of like your little friend Ryan Winstead."
"What are you talking about?" I looked up at him and felt misty rain coat my skin. His eyes met mine and I was stupefied for a few seconds - the blueness of his eyes, the sharply defined structures of his face. It was all so...lovely.
Lovely? I almost scowled. Almost.
Instead I shrugged his arm off my shoulder.
"Ah, nevermind," Reid sighed and pretended the conversation got too boring for his liking. "When do you wanna study your lines?"
"Uh," I stammered, "I haven't even thought about it yet. Give me time."
"You don't have a whole lot of time for this," Reid scolded and smiled at the same time.
"Let me worry about it," I felt like wiping that smug look right off his face. "It's not like you have to memorize any lines."
"Dean," he lowered his head to meet my eyes, "I've been in six plays in the last two years. Powell knows I can act. That's why she's assigned me to you."
Oh, really? So now I was receiving pity help from Reid Garwin?
Is there anything this boy can't get away with?
"Huh," I snorted. "I've been in plays. I can act just fine."
"Clearly," he replied rather intensely. I looked up at him once more to find his fingerless-gloved hands dug in front pockets, bomber jacket unzipped and revealing the Oxford shirt and tie our uniform required.
He made it look good, no doubt.
"Tomorrow," I spoke, still looking up at him. "We'll practice tomorrow."
"My room?" He met my eyes.
"How about mine," I stated. There was no way I planned on being alone with him, in his turf. "Say, seven-ish. No earlier."
"Whatever you want," he shrugged and smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. His gaze was focused on something else, and when I turned to look forward I found Ryan pacing around outside the door to my dorm. Another wave of anxiety hit me.
Ry looked up and found my form, met my eyes and then met Reid's. He stopped pacing.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean," Reid lowered himself to fix his hushed voice on my ear, and I could only swallow hard and nod.
I didn't watch Reid turn and leave; I was too stunned to see Ryan outside my dorm.
I quickly walked up to meet him, covering my hair from the now-pelting rain with a textbook.
"Hey," I greeted him cautiously. He wasn't usually too responsive to my being overly friendly to him these days.
"Hey," he nodded once. "Do you have a minute?"
I paused to take in his presence: full out Spenser uniform - unconventionally handsome, I'd thought him once to be. Then I yanked my room key from my pocket and jammed it through the door, letting us both in.
I dropped my books and took off my sneakers as Ryan made his way over to Brianna's bed and sat; I plopped on my own and crossed my legs Indian style, not forgetting that I was still in a skirt.
"What's up?" I asked him casually.
Ryan looked perturbed, unsure of what to say next but knowing what he needed to say, as well. Funny how I could read all that just from his facial expressions.
"I sort of owe you an apology," Ry looked up from Brianna's sham and met my gaze. "I've been rude to you for a while now."
"I guess this is the part where I say I deserved it?" I spoke a little harder then I'd meant. "It's easier than telling you what really happened with Reid and I, since you don't want to hear any of that."
"It's not that I don't want to hear it, Cassandra," Ry shook his head. "I'm just frustrated with myself is all."
I contemplated my next words carefully. There was a part of me that wanted to believe Cole's revelation in drama class to be a farce, though I knew it wasn't. Why else would Ryan care so much about my interactions with Reid?
"I just want you to know that when Reid kissed me, it wasn't what it looked like."
"Cassandra..." Ry sighed
"I wasn't expecting it-"
"I know."
"No, you don't," I bit back. "I know how it looked, but I was caught off guard. And the awkwardness of the whole situation only made it harder to react the way I normally would have. I didn't want to kiss him, Ry."
This time, Ryan's chest sunk in exhale and he saw that I wasn't bullshitting him; maybe the kiss itself wasn't awkward, but the surprise of his attack was, anyway. And I didn't have to mention anything about slightly liking it. I didn't want to push my luck and it wasn't his business, anyway.
"Listen," Ry paused my mini-speech with outward palms. "I'm apologizing because I know what Reid really thinks about you, about girls in general...and I just don't want you to get hurt. I took out my frustrations on you and I'm sorry for that. But I'm not sorry about warning you. What you do with it is your own business."
I crossed my arms and sat quietly, looking out the rain-pelted glass window above Brianna's bed. What did he want me to say? Did he want an apology from me? Assurance that I'd leave Reid alone?
"Why was he walking you back here, anyway?" Ryan's tone wasn't defensive or accusing. Merely curious.
"Powell assigned him the duty of helping me study my lines for the Othello play," I groaned. "He wanted to know when we should meet up."
"Ah."
My eyes involuntarily darted toward Ry and I saw him blow a pent-up breath. He looked so...strained. Confused. I couldn't even help the words that left my mouth at that moment. I wanted to swallow them right back up the moment they were said:
"Why do you care so much?"
He didn't answer right away, actually. He just sat there and stared at me, not dumbly - but contemplatively. And then he shrugged it off, as if it didn't matter.
"Just feel bad is all," Ry stood from the bed. "If you heard Reid in the gym locker rooms, you'd know what I mean."
Luckily I wouldn't ever, ever have to.
"So," I dragged. "Friends?"
"Still friends," Ry agreed. I smiled at the easiness of his voice.
I walked him to the door and leaned against the frame as he turned to face me. He immediately dug his hands in his pockets.
"Cassandra," he looked me in the eyes as he spoke. "I don't want you to think this has anything to do with making you choose between Reid and I. Our issues have nothing to do with you..."
"I know," I chirped perkily. Very unlike myself to be perky but damn, I felt lifted. Relieved of one stress, at least.
"He's dangerous," Ry's voice turned dark instantly. "The four of them are all dangerous. I've seen people close to them get hurt, and I don't want that to happen to you. So please..."
My breath hitched as his fingertips grazed my cheeks, light as dovefeathers.
"Be careful."
I dropped my gaze, preferring the view of my Puma socks - like the emotionally-incompetant that I am - and felt the absense of his hand immediately. It couldn't have been helped, my next thought.. if telepathy existed, Ry would have been sending me memories of strange moments as warnings...
'We never found the body...'
Secret whispers in black-out hallways, talk of dead boys and burning barnhouses. It was strange. More than that, it was scary... they thought he was dead. But who? That transfer from Hastings? Was he dead?
And more importantly, did the Sons want him to be?
I shouldn't have wanted to know, but I did. I really, really did. The secrecy of those boys... the strangeness that is Reid Garwin - it hit close to home. I had secrets once, ones that shamed me, and the misunderstanding of my past hurt me. I didn't kill anyone, but I might have. I almost killed myself. If people knew the truth, maybe they'd understand...
I wanted to know the truth.
And by the time I lifted my head in determination, I found that Ry was already gone.