E is for "Envy"

Rated T

Clyde: 15

Lynn: 17

Anyone taking a cursory glance at Lynn's present demeanor would've found nothing amiss. To the untrained eye, all that would've been seen was a disinterested girl, lying in her bed as she flipped through the pages of her sports almanac with listlessness. And as far as Lynn was concerned, that was exactly the way she wanted it—the last thing she needed was anyone judging her exposed emotions if she didn't even think that she could make the right call on them (at least not without cringing at what immediately came to her as "obvious").

Had she decided to wear her heart on her sleeve, she'd be beating the shit out of her Wavemaster right now, flinging wild punches and kicks at it until her moody anger was spent and she could breeze through the rest of the day on relatively high spirits. She thought about dropping her façade of indifference and doing just that at least three times in the past hour before she was reminded of what would happen if she did.

Lynn flipped through another page and sighed angrily through her nose, thinking about the person that was responsible for all of this—at the thought of his cheery grin, a sharp pang stuck through her heart, and she muttered angry gibberish under her breath. This was all stupid Clyde's fault. He was the reason she couldn't chill out in the comfort of her own room. He was the reason that she was stuck inside on a Wednesday night with nothing else to do but try and pretend that everything was okay.

For all the wonders of imagination that all those educational children's shows taught her as a kid, they sure as hell couldn't make her imagine Clyde has anything but the backstabbing jerk that he was. Hey, if it looked like a duck, walked like a duck, and quacked like a duck, it was a rotten, no-good, son of a...duck.

But yeah, Clyde McBride could seriously go to Hell.

…

Okay, fine, that might've been a little too harsh (just a little, mind you). Still, what kind of so-called "friend" flaked on their friends like he had done? No, scratch that, had been doing for days now?

The one that had the hots for someone and forgot all about her, apparently.

Last week's Saturday was supposed to be just the two of them at the batting cage that afternoon. She had set up the time and date days ago, making sure that Clyde wasn't inconvenienced (y'know, like a good friend would do). Not only did Clyde bail on those plans at the last second, he didn't even have the luxury of telling her what that oh-so "important stuff" was. Yeah, apparently his nondescript plans held soooooo much more importance over the time that she was gonna pour into his practice so that he wouldn't strike out when he applied for their school's softball team tryouts. Pssh, jerk.

On Monday morning, he was the one that did the inviting. At the beginning of the school year, they found out that they had subjects in school that they weren't so hot at but the other could knock out of the park with their eyes closed. So, like most Mondays, they'd meet up after school at his house and help each other out with studying. Heck, Lynn was gonna go so far as to invite him to see a movie on Sunday (as a token of her appreciation, of course). But hark! Look up in the sky! Was it a bird?! A plane, perhaps?! Nnnnnnope! It was another last minute bailing out from Clyde as he called off the study session because of an "important guest" that was coming over, and he couldn't make the time for her because of that. Of course, Lisa was around to get her through the terrors of Calculus (something that Clyde was at least kind enough to recommend). Still, it...just didn't feel right if Clyde wasn't the one leading her by the hand.

Oh, but today? Today was the straw that broke the camel's back worse than one of her camel clutches ever could. Earlier during lunch, she approached him with an offer that he shouldn't have been able to refuse. She was never into all those geeky comics of his, but she was certain that he'd accept her proposal for them to get done with their homework early so that he could spend the rest of the day easing her into the world of Ace Savvy, one issue at a time. Hey, as long as she and Clyde were doing something together, that would suit her just fine.

And for the third time within a week, she struck out—the situation would've been far less painful if the bases were loaded and it was the bottom of the ninth. What made the rejection worse wasn't the words he had said but the actions had accompanied them. Once again, he turned her away in favor of "other ideas".

And that's when she saw..."it"—the sneaky sidelong glance he made to his left, along with the sly, little grin that she assumed he thought was inconspicuous. What made it worse was when those same gestures were returned in the same fashion from that, bespectacled. red-haired girl he had in his sights to begin with. It took everything she had and much, much more to lay her frustration to rest and excuse herself before her bubbling cauldron of emotions could boil over and get the better of her. But that didn't make the realization of everything that was going on any better now that she was alone to process the intimacy of that silent exchange.

Out of nowhere, Clyde managed to get himself a girlfriend. And for some reason, that bothered her more than all the times he ditched her lately. But then again, maybe it was a lie to chalk it up to "some reason" when, again, what kept coming back to her as "obvious" made her squirm.

But how could anyone blame her when that notion, against her better judgment, had the audacity to suggest that she was...jealous. Her? Jealous of what's-her-face? What did she have to be jealous of? The poor girl looked like she couldn't even have a brisk jog from her front door to her mailbox without keeling over.

Her looks? Lynn wasn't one to make a fuss over physical appearance, but she didn't think she was all that and a bag of chips. At least, not compared to her. Last she checked, she was only seven percent body fat. Meanwhile, that girl probably had love handles for her love handles. Did she even have so much as a visible four-pack? Hmph, probably not.

Lynn flipped through another page. So, what did Clyde see in her anyway? Must've been something pretty damn impressive for him to forget that she existed. It couldn't have been how much she knew him as a person. Last time she checked, she had her beat in that department.

Another page. But even then, that didn't give him the right to just...just leave her. She didn't have to be jealous to feel hurt that all the time they spent together meant nothing as soon as he started drooling at the mouth at other girls. Pervert.

Another page. They were probably making out right now. What else could that silent exchange mean? Guess playing tonsil hockey with some jennie-come-lately was better than another rousing game of street hockey that had never failed to produce some of the most fun that they ever had together.

Another page. Fine! They could have each other for all she cared! If all it took was a pair of pale legs and a short skirt to make him primarily think with his second head, then so be it! Jealous?! She was better than that, and she wasn't gonna let anyone else tell her otherwise!

Anoth-riiiiip! The sound of tearing paper yanked her out of her defiant stupor, and she instantly became acquainted with the cost of her suppressed anger. The almanac, much like her friendship with Clyde, was torn down the center. Her shaky hands and boiling blood stilled under the sudden rush of sadness, and she limply let the ruined magazine fall out her grasp. Her head drooped down, her bangs casting a shadow over her eyes.

She...s-she wasn't jealous. She wasn't.

But that didn't mean that she didn't want to cry in her pillow right about now.