Chapter Seven
252 days until graduation
FOOTBALL GAME VS. ST. PETERSBERG PREP: TONIGHT @ 7
I glance at Logan as we walk through the main hallway in between third and fourth lesson. “Are you going to the football game?”
“I’m going, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says.
“No.” I shake my head. “I want to go.”
I’ve never been to an American football game, and I want to make the most out of my time here, so I might as well do the things all the other kids are doing.
We walk into sculpture class and sit in our seats.
I’ve noticed that Ms. Geller hardly bothers us, which makes the class more independent. She gives us a general outline for a project, and the materials we need, but other than that, she allows us the time we need to work on our own
We have finally gotten to where we are working on actual projects now that Ms. Geller has gone through all the class procedures. Right now, we are working on carving Styrofoam into sculptured heads, attempting to recreate what the ancient Greeks did with marble.It’s an interesting but tedious process, and like nothing I’ve ever done in previous art classes.
“Who did you choose to do?” Logan asks from across the table.
He’s attempting to sculpt George Washington, claiming that he has a face that’s easy to replicate.
“Plato,” I say, staring at the picture of the Greek philosopher while taking another sliver of Styrofoam away from what is supposed to be his cheekbone.
“Gen loves that guy,” he replies. “What”s so cool about him?”
I shrug, expecting to be laughed at for what I say next. “I like his idea on soulmates.”
“Soulmates?” Logan asks, and I nod. “What did he say about soulmates?”
“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature.”
Logan almost laughs but rubs his hand over his mouth to restrain himself. “He thinks soulmates cure the issues of human nature?”
I shrug, continuing to carve Plato’s face. “I think it makes sense. The more people who are happy and in love, the more peace the world will have. I think many people’s troubles come from anger, and if they met who they were truly meant for, maybe they would mellow out and therefore make the world a better place. The most insufferable people are the ones who are fueled with aggravation, and maybe if they had the right type of love, they would be less… intolerable.”
“If Gen found her soulmate, do you think she would be more ‘tolerable?’” Logan asks.
It’s hard to think about because Genevieve doesn’t seem like the type of girl to long for love.
A lot of people have this idea that they need to fall in love in order to live a fulfilled life, but I think Genevieve is confident and secure with herself alone. She would never feel the need to find contentment in another person.
“From the looks of it, she’s perfectly content on her own.” I say.
“I guess only time will tell whether that’s true.” I turn to find Winnifred Carter standing behind me.
She makes her way toward Logan, standing behind him to see what he’s working on. “How’s it going?” She asks.
He shrugs, dropping his tool and turning around so he’s straddling his chair and facing her. “Not sure. How are you doing?”
I waver between whether I should block them out or eavesdrop. Yet, I can’t get what Winnifred said about Genevieve out of my head.
“Does she have a secret boyfriend or something?” I ask, wanting to palm myself in the face as soon as I say it.
They’ve already moved on from the topic of Genevieve, so when they hear me, they look confused.
“Who?” Winnifred asks, tilting her head.I swear, she looks like the sweet innocent girl in every animated Disney movie.
“Genevieve. You said that only time will tell whether or not she needs love.” The two of them are looking at me like I’ve completely lost my head.
“No, she doesn’t have any type of boyfriend,” Winnifred replies.
“Then…What did you mean by that?” Again, I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
She shrugs. “I meant exactly what I said.”
Logan looks at her with an adoring expression. “You know, if you really want to know whether Gen is longing for love, she’s right over there. Go ask her yourself,”he says.
“I don’t want to know that much; I was just curious,” I say.
“Is it just me or do you not sound as British as I would have expected?” Winnifred changes the subject.
“I grew up going back and forth between London, the Americas, and then Italy, so I guess I’ve developed an unconventional accent.”
“Where did you stay in America when you came?” Logan asks.
“New York mostly, sometimes California. I was usually with my dad while he was on business trips, so lots of big cities. ”
“Interesting,” Winnifred replies, glancing back toward her table. “Well, I need to get back to work on my Anna Pavlova.”
“A ballerina?” Logan asks, but I can tell he already knows.
“Yup.” She smiles. “Seriously, I have to go back, every time I look at Evie, she gives me these eyes like I’m conversing with the devil. No offense Jameson, really, I think you’re great.”
I grin at the compliment. “None taken.”
“Hopefully I’ll see you guys at the game tonight?”
Logan nods before she turns back and heads for her seat.
“So, you and Winnifred, huh?” I ask in a teasing tone as soon as she’s out of earshot.
“I’m afraid not,” he says, “She’s just a friend.”
I whistle slowly. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”
“Well, that’s all it is. We don’t see each other like that.”
I can tell it’s a sore subject, so I don’t push it any further. I wonder if he and Winnifred ever tried to be together how I originally thought they were. Did they not work out? Did something happen between them that forced them into a strict friendship?
“My burning question never got answered.” Logan changes the subject before I have to.
“Did you ever ask your burning question?” I counter.
He grins, like the question he’s about to ask isn’t going to be an easy one to answer. “You seem to like Plato’s idea of soulmates, but do you believe in them?”
“In soulmates?” It’s a rhetorical question, I already know that’s what he’s talking about, but I’m trying to buy myself time to articulate my answer.
“Yeah, do you think there’s someone out there for everyone?”
“I’m not sure, obviously there”s no way to know for certain. I think it’s feasible, but more often than not there are factors that obstruct people from being with who they are truly meant to be with.”
“So, Ted Bundy’s soulmate is somewhere out there?” Logan asks.
I laugh, “Maybe.”
“Do you have hopes for your soulmate?”
“Jeez, asking the hard-hitting questions, aren’t you?”
“Answer the question. I won’t tell anyone.”
I cave, answering, “No, I don’t have any hopes for my soulmate because I worry if I have hopes for the person I’m supposed to fall deeply in love with, I won’t recognize them when I meet them. What if they are less than what I expect them to be? Then, I’ll never acknowledge that they are the person for me.”
“Wow,” Logan sighs. “That was deep.”
“Announcement everyone!” A girl I don’t recognize stands on a table in the center of the classroom, “The theme for tonight’s football game is Hawaiian! Bring your leis!”
I don’t think she would get away with doing this in any class except this one. In fact, when everyone in the room starts hooting and hollering, Ms. Geller joins in.
I lean toward Logan amidst the chaos. “Do you have an extra lei? I forgot to bring mine from London,” I joke.
“Do I have an extra lei? Do you know who you are talking to?” He looks at me in mock horror. “I am the absolute king of the student section, of course I have extra spirit gear.”
“Perfect.”
We are on our way to the football game. Logan and I are both wearing white, ribbed tank tops and brightly colored swim trunks with leis around our necks, per the Hawaiian theme.
Almost all the guys are planning to go against school rules and rip their shirts off at halftime. While they tried to convince the girls to wear bikinis, I heard through the grapevine that Genevieve shut that down quickly—saying something about how the girls should only wear bikinis if they want to, not because it’s ruled they have to.
Logan has been unusually quiet almost the entire ride to the school, and when he finally speaks up, it is a conversation I was not expecting.
“If you’re trying to get Gen’s attention, what you are doing now will never work,” he says.
“Huh?” I ask in shock, “Gen? As in Genevieve Alderidge?”
Logan doesn’t look fazed. “I saw the way you acted when Winnie brought up Gen’s male escapades.”
I shrug. “I was just curious.”
“No boy is that curious about a girl’s sex life unless he wants to be a part of it.” He laughs.
“You sound ridiculous.”
Logan pulls his Mercedes into the school parking lot. Somehow, even with the rest of the parking lot being packed, he’s able to find a spot up front, like it was reserved for him.
“Whatever you say,” he sing-songs. “All I can tell you is that Gen hates you. She doesn’t do well with competition that she isn’t able to obliterate.”
“Clearly.” I move to get out of the car, but Logan locks the doors before I can.
“Listen, Jameson, Gen is one of my closest friends, and I love that girl. I know you don’t see it, but she’s a good person, and we all want the best for her. Please, don’t fuck her up.”
I look at him sincerely, no longer wanting to joke. “I don’t think I could fuck her up if I tried. That girl is steel.”
Logan smiles. “She never claimed to be a minnow, that girl has only ever been a shark.”
If there was anything to take away from Genevieve Alderidge, it would be that.
The girl is a fucking shark. She circles her prey until it surrenders to her will, and on the rare chance they don’t concede, she rips them apart.
The football game student section is an absolute mess.
It’s the first home game of the regular season. There are people throwing water bottles to soak the crowd, some are spraying silly string, and there’s even an entire group of people covering others in navy and white paint.
The chaos surrounding me causes the lei around my neck to feel much more snug than before.
“Do you want to stand on the bleachers or at the bottom?” Eloise asks as we reach the bottom of the student section, looking up at the mass number of kids—all dressed in a slight variation of the same outfit.
Most of the seniors don’t occupy the bleachers, and prefer to stand against the railings, making for a difficult half time when everyone has to find somewhere to sit, but at least we get the best seats for the game.
I scan the mass of people, looking for Winnie.
“We can stay at the railing, I enjoy being the center of attention,” I tell her, feigning superiority. She grabs my arm, dragging me toward the middle of the sizable crowd. “I didn”t mean the direct center.”
I’m surrounded by people, to the point where I could likely decipher what half of them ate for dinner. The air becomes thicker the closer I get to the center of the crowd, making it feel as if the people surrounding me are stealing the air from my lungs.
Noah Sommers breaks through the center, commanding the entire crowd and forcing people into starting chants when someone places a megaphone in his hand. Just what he needs.
The closer we get to the start of the game, the rowdier the crowd gets. Seniors start yelling at underclassmen to get their asses to the top of the bleachers, and the large group continues to disperse along the railing.
The game begins, and our team is off to a good start. In return, our student section is going absolutely nuts, cheering after Luke scores one hell of a touchdown.
“Yes!” Eloise shouts, and I step away before she damages my hearing. While she’s outwardly passionate about our friend’s accomplishment, I prefer to smile and clap.
Eventually, we spot Winnie in the crowd. She drove herself since it would have been more out of my way if I had to pick up her and Eloise.
The game is going well, and our team is winning after scoring in both of the first two quarters, and once halftime approaches, Eloise and I quickly meet Winnie near the top of the bleachers to get a seat.
“Why aren’t you at the bottom with all the seniors?” Eloise asks Winnie as we take a seat next to her.
“It’s too crowded for me.”
Of all of us, Winnie has the worst social anxiety, making it harder for her to enjoy these types of school events.While I don’t love them, I can withstand the shoving of the crowds and the loud spoken people, but Winnie cannot.
The halftime show passes where the marching band performs, and I become increasingly aware of the fact that Jameson is here, directly behind me, a few rows back.He is collecting attention like a kid in a candy shop. Guys are trying to become friends with him, girls are attempting to become…more than friends with him.
I’m sure the attention is doing wonders for an ego like his, and I can’t help but hate him for how likable he seems to be without even trying.If only people saw what I saw in him, maybe they all wouldn’t be so drawn to him.
I snap out of my daze, refocusing my attention on the game.We’re still winning by a long shot, which only makes the crowd more and more wild as time goes on.
The clock is ticking down, and I have yet to be assaulted by a water bottle or silly string.
Thank God.
“Gen, where is Winnie Carter?” Someone calls to me down the long row of people. I look to see a boy I recognize from school, though I don’t know his name.
My brows furrow in confusion. “Why?” Did something happen?
“We’re trying to find someone to crowd surf!” He yells.
Good luck with that. I think to myself
Winnie would never risk herself getting injured like that. She’s not adventurous or daring like Eloise; she cares too much about ballet to even think about the possibility of a sprained ankle, or God forbid, a broken leg.
“She’s sitting with Logan Callaghan!” If they want to try to convince her, let them.
“They realize they’re never going to get her to do that shit, right?” Eloise asks from where she stands next to me.
I can only laugh. “They’re about to find out.”
I look back at Winnie, possibly to warn her, but I’m too late.The three guys who had just disappeared into the sea of people to find Winnie are standing in front of her, and she’s shaking her head at the offer.
“Please, Winnie, please!” One guy looks close to getting on his knees and begging her.
She continues to say no.
They’re attracting attention now and Logan inches closer to Winnie, informing the guys that she will not be crowd surfing.
“Winnifred Carter’s personal protector at her service,” Eloise mocks when she sees the steam rolling over Logan’s features.
“Seriously, I think he might pop a blood vessel.”I laugh.
Eloise and I continue to watch intently as the scene unfolds, and as soon as the guys realize Winnie will not do what they ask, their heads whip back in my direction.
“Gen!” They call, bounding toward me again. I wonder whose location they are going to ask me for next. “We’re going to crowd surf you!” One says.
“Me?” The three of them nod. “Why me?”
“You are like the unofficial mascot of our school, and since Winnie won’t do it, you’re our next best option!”
Eloise chokes on a laugh. “I can’t wait to see this.”
I look down, examining if my outfit is appropriate for what they are asking of me, hoping it’s not so I have some type of escape.
My black leggings, white tank top, and Hawaiian shirt are not the excuse I’m looking for. I sigh, looking back at Winnie. I have a fairly good feeling that, if I don’t do it, they will continue to badger her.I don’t want to put her in that position; I also don’t want Logan to get in a fistfight.
“Fine,” I say. “What do I do?”
Each of their faces light up with a smile, and one of them turns on the megaphone in their hand.
Where the hell did that come from?
“Listen up, everybody!” His yell rings out through the megaphone, making the whole student section go quiet. “We are going to crowd surf Gen! Everybody get ready!”
“Ready?” The third boy asks me, already grabbing me by the calves.
My eyes widen as I look at Eloise. “Um…”
“Send her up, boys!” Eloise tells them. Before I can refuse, they are catapulting me up into the crowd that has gathered in the center of the bleachers.
“Holy shit!” I yell as I feel myself continue to travel further up the stands.
I stop moving through the crowd moments later, and I look down to see that Logan is holding my legs. “What are you—”
“Look at the power I’ve got over you, Genova.” I recognize the voice almost immediately.
Jameson.He’s the one holding both my shoulders.
“Genova?” I look at him, my eyebrows furrow at the nickname.
Is it a nickname, or does he just not know my name?
“I reckon this may give me a god complex, love.” He smirks, stopping me from moving any further through the crowd. “I could let you drop at any second.”
“Don’t you dare,” I seethe.
“What would you do if I did?” His lips are remarkably close to my ear, and his breath sends a chill down my spine.
I don”t think he means to elicit the reaction out of me that he does, but his closeness still makes my entire body go numb—partly out of innocent attraction, but also out of anger. He could drop me at any moment.
“I…” My voice falters when he drops his arms out from under me, making my whole body begin to fall.
I don’t know how far up the stands I am; I haven’t quite been paying attention, but I know it would be a brutal fall no matter what. “Jameson!” I scream, my voice breaking as I claw onto his shoulder.
Right before I feel like I’m going to hit the metal of the bleachers, his hands find me again.
He grabs under my arms and heaves me up again. “See how thrilling that was?”
I punch him in the shoulder. “No, you asshole!”
Logan’s laughing next to me, as if he hadn’t noticed a bit of what just happened. “Do you want to go further, Gen?”
I shake my head. “Please, put me down.”
“Oh, come on, that’s no fu—” Jameson starts.
“Put me down!”
That’s when Logan drops me.
I think I scream, bracing myself for impact again, but I’m too worried about the fact that my fate now lies in my rival”s hands.
“Bloody hell, Logan!” Jameson curses. I feel his body shift and I expect him to drop me too, but his arms wrap around my torso.
I’m too taken aback by the fact that Jameson Beaumont saved me from what felt like a near death experience to even register what happens after that.The next thing I know, I’m on my feet on the bleacher next to Logan.
“That wasn’t funny.” I look at Logan. “You were seriously going to let me fall to my death.”
“It was a trust exercise,” he says. “And look, it worked. Jameson caught you.”
“Because he had no choice,” I sneer. “I don’t trust people because they do what’s morally right.”
“Well, now you know he’s a good guy and wouldn’t let you plummet to your death.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s here under immoral pretenses.”
“He didn’t know about the valedictorian position before he got here,” Logan says.
“That changes nothing!”
“Can you guys stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Jameson asks.
“I need to go.” My head is throbbing from stress, and being surrounded by people is getting to me.
I turn my back to the two of them, making my way down the bleachers and back to where Eloise is waiting.
The game is almost over, and by the time I make it back to Eloise, her eyes are filled with concern, almost like she had heard my entire conversation with Logan and Jameson.
“Can we leave?” I ask. “Please?”
Eloise senses my panic, nodding, “let me drive.”
I hand over my keys easily, anything to get me out of here. “Let’s go.”