Chapter 8 Tabitha
This is ridiculous. Ugh. Why did Cammy and I have to be so loud when we talked in class? Although, I doubt we disrupted everyone from learning what Mrs. Field was droning on about.
I mean, is it really our fault that other kids can’t concentrate?
Isn’t it up to them to pay attention to their teacher?
I can’t force them to learn this gibberish.
Besides, shouldn’t Mrs. Field take some responsibility?
Or is this part of her game? She can’t admit she’s a bad teacher, whose whole class has zoned her out.
Oh my gosh, this cow has made every single student switch seats just because she can’t control her classroom. And even worse, she’s blaming me and Cammy for her shortcomings. Should we report this? Our principal should probably know about this appalling behavior.
Ugh. Mrs. Field has likely already brown-nosed Principal Harvey and blabbed about her allegedly unruly students. I wouldn’t put it past her. She did tattletale to my mom, for crying out loud.
So, here I am, sitting next to Kai Freaking Nelson, of all people.
Truly, I should be worried about my wellbeing.
Without warning, this guy goes nuclear, taking out anyone in his vicinity.
Worse, he has no problem with browbeating women.
How is he still enrolled at Ashworth Academy?
I bet it would appal the Ashworth family to find out a guy like this roams their namesake school halls.
I clear my throat, staring at the page corners of Kai’s textbook stabbing through the pages of mine. “Umm, your stuff is on my side of the desk.”
Kai picks up a metal ruler and slides his book away from mine. “Wouldn’t want that,” he mutters. “I don’t know what kind of disease I could get.”
I sit back, offended. “Disease? From me? As if.”
He glares at me. “Oh, you don’t like when other people say such nasty things?”
I cross my arms. “Why should I be surprised? You say nothing but nasty things.”
He taps the metal ruler against the desktop. “Only when provoked.”
I click my tongue. “Is that a threat?” I toss my curls off my shoulder. “Another threat?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised you ditzes have to twist my words to fit your narrative.”
“We don’t have to do anything. Your actions speak louder than words.”
He smirks. “So you confirm you’re all legit ditzes?”
I roll my eyes and turn away from him. “Who’s twisting words now?”
“Tabitha and Kai,” Mrs. Field blurts, striding toward our desk. “All I hear is chatter coming from your desk. Tabitha, must you keep interrupting the class?”
I puff out my shock and point to my chest. “Me?”
“Was it not enough that I rearranged the entire class to minimize your negative impact?” Mrs. Field looks down her nose at me. “What else do I need to do to get you to pay attention in class?”
“It’s not just… He’s the one…”
Mrs. Field gestures at Cammy and Diane’s lab desk. “Camila is thriving with her new lab partner. Why can’t you shape up and get with the program?”
My jaw drops, watching Cammy scribble down notes. My eyes slit as I watch her signature hair twirl around her index finger. She’s playing a role. She’s not working with Diane. She’s putting on a show for Mrs. Field and making me play the bad guy.
Mrs. Field draws a pointed finger between me and Kai. “I need you two working together. No more bickering. The only words to come out of your mouth must have something to do with the class assignment. Got me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kai and I say at once. His tone makes my skin crawl. He’s loving seeing me hung out to dry.
When Mrs. Field walks away from our desk, “Wow,” draws out of Kai. “Even Camila is pulling her weight. You really are the worst one out of the bunch.”
“Shut it,” I hiss and slap a hand onto my open textbook. “Does Camila have anything to do with this assignment?”
“Don’t get angry with me,” Kai says, stabbing at all my buttons. “It’s not my fault you’re not getting with the program.”
“Wipe the smirk off your face. Remember, if I fail this class, so do you.”
His Adam’s apple bobs, giving me a glimmer of delight. He then sits taller, and the light dims inside me. “Do you know anything about this subject that’ll pull your grade up from an F?”
I hook a finger between the collar of my blouse and my neck. “Well, I’m not actually an F-grade student.”
“But can you actually study?”
I shrug. “If I care.”
“Do you care about failing?”
An exasperated groan rolls out of me. “Duh. Of course, I do.”
“Then can you stop death-staring the teacher, or worrying about where my textbook is, and actually pick up a pen?”
My lip upturns and I cock an eyebrow at him.
He smirks. “The answers aren’t written on my forehead.”
I huff again and snatch a pen from my case.
Kai goes back to writing in his notebook, and I scan my textbook to figure out what the heck he’s writing.
I lift my gaze to the whiteboard where Mrs. Field wrote a paragraph of gibberish.
I copy it all down, hoping something correlates with something in the textbook.
This is usually how I coast through science classes.
None of it makes sense to me, but if I can just program a few things into my memory, I usually get by at exam time.
The problem with chemistry is, part of the assignment is working on an experiment with your lab partner.
At least with Cammy, it could’ve been fun.
Maybe. But with Kai… Ugh. I can’t even imagine working with this guy.
He obviously hates every girl except Jamie West.
My pen has a mind of its own as I zone out at my handwriting. Soon, there are hearts, flowers, and clouds doodled around my notes. I only snap out of the trance when the bell rings. I gather all my stuff, relieved to get far away from Kai.
“Kai and Tabitha,” Mrs. Field calls from her desk. “I need you two to stay back.”
Mutterings from other students pass us by, and I ignore them as I meet Cammy’s gaze. She’s sniggering at me while she saunters out of the room. I don’t know why she’s acting like she’s suddenly a grade-A student. We all know she’s gonna have Diane doing all her work for her.
“I told you two I only wanted you discussing schoolwork,” Mrs. Field says after the last student leaves the lab. “Correct?”
“Yeah…” Kai draws it out like he’s answering a trick question.
“Then I left your station, and you two were immediately arguing again,” Mrs. Field says bluntly. “I can’t have this in my classroom.”
Kai throws his hands up and then winces as he fumbles with the books hiked under his arm. “Easy solution,” he says, easing out of his gritted teeth. “Separate us.”
“I can’t do that,” she replies.
“Why not?” we protest in unison.
“I’m not uprooting the class again. It’ll cause upheaval to the other students.”
Kai gestures at me. “Ma’am, you already did that. This is a recipe for disaster.”
“Kai, when you’re in the real world, you’ll deal with people you don’t like,” Mrs. Field says, gathering papers on her desk.
“For instance, if you work in an office, you might deal with many clashing personalities. It’s the resilience you build from an early age that prepares you for those encounters. ”
“I won’t work in an office,” he replies bluntly. “My career will be on the soccer field. I’m already dealing with big personalities on my team.”
Mrs. Field looks down her nose at him. “Not all kids have a sports team to work out their issues with teammates.”
“That’s not my problem. Everyone should play a team sport. If we’re all forced to learn the crap they teach in the classroom, it should be mandatory for everyone to join a team.”
I suck in a breath. If I used the word crap in front of Mrs. Field, I’d get one heck of a lecture.
“The only thing mandatory in my classroom,” Mrs. Field replies, “is lab partners working together as assigned.”
“You want me to learn resilience,” Kai doubles down. “Well, this is one heck of a lesson, ma’am, because there’s no personality on my soccer team as demonic as Tabitha’s.”
“Excuse me,“ I spit.
Mrs. Field lifts a hand to silence us. “That’s enough. I don’t want you two bickering and name-calling any longer. You will show me you can pull together and finish your assignment. You will leave hallway politics outside the classroom. Do you understand me?”
“Not in the slightest,” Kai says bluntly.
Mrs. Field narrows her stare at me.
I look up and off to the side, slouching as I sigh. “Fine. Whatever.”
“You two can go,” she says, gesturing to the door. “I don’t want you to be late for the next class.”
I push past Kai, muttering as I leave the lab, “That’ll be a first.”
When I get into the hallway, Cammy’s nowhere in sight. Part of her good girl routine. Wouldn’t want to be caught loitering in the hall and lose cred with Mrs. Field.
Kai moves out of the doorway behind me, and before he can make a crass comment, I march my way to health class.
There’s a stain on my tongue from even thinking about the word health.
It’s the grossest class imaginable. Sitting with a bunch of girls as we discuss our bodies, boys’ bodies, and the possible dangers of us mingling together.
Somehow, the idea of going to the gym and chucking a basketball around actually sounds fun. Heck, I’d even run laps to get out of hearing Coach Oliver lecture about STIs.
I drag myself to the classroom and find Cammy and Yvie whispering behind cupped hands. The desks next to them are already taken. When they notice me entering the room, they nudge each other with laughter.
I look around the classroom for an empty desk and then I’m nudged from behind.
“Take a seat, Jones,” Coach Oliver orders, removing her hand from my back.
I trip over my feet from her force and stumble into a vacant chair. My friends’ laughter hits me like a tidal wave, and I brace myself as I take my seat. A bead of sweat rolls down my back, and clings my blouse to my skin. My blazer stiffens, conducting heat by the second.
I didn’t expect to be longing for my gym T-shirt.
But who wouldn’t be sweating bullets when Cammy and Yvie are staring at their back?
The only safe place in this classroom is sitting next to Cammy.
The fact she didn’t save me a seat is deliberate.
I’m not sure why she wants me to suffer, but who can ever know Cammy’s reasoning?
When Coach Oliver gets class underway, I’m both tense from the lesson topic and the threat of a Cammy attack.
When we’re instructed to look over a diagram of the human body, the class relaxes into small conversations.
Behind me, Yvie laughs to herself about how well the diagram measures up to the body of her current crush, Zane.
“Oh my gosh, Rochelle.“ I squirm at the way Cammy over-pronounces Rochelle’s name. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
My spine springs into a dead-straight position. My jaw throbs in pain as I bite down hard on my molars. My clammy hands slide and stick together as I interlace my trembling fingers.
Why the heck is Cammy banding together with the girl we alleged did her hair with a weed whacker? I mean, I get why Rochelle would buddy up with her. Anyone can see the benefit of gossiping with Cammy and possibly avoiding her verbal attacks.
But does Rochelle know it’s only a possibility?
Is she aware Cammy could turn on her at any moment?
Me, I’m counting on it. I want the possibility of Cammy bringing me back to her side.
But I’m not deluding myself. Cammy set me up to sit without an ally and become her primary target.
I can only hope that when we get to lunch, it’ll be a different story.
If my sanity can survive until then.
An exaggerated gasp shoots out of Cammy. “Oh my gosh, she’s not that bad.”
Giggling sounds beside her. I can’t help myself. I glance over my shoulder and find Rochelle leaning into Cammy with a cupped hand over her mouth. Her shoulders jiggle with her soft laughter.
I face forward and feel every nauseous ripple in my stomach. I swallow hard, commanding myself not to dry heave in the middle of freaking health class.
As Cammy continues to make vague, soul-sucking comments behind my back, the hypocrisy bugs me the most. She spent chemistry pretending to be some kind of good girl. The second she’s out, she’s back to regular form.
Part of me wishes Mrs. Field would walk in right now. I’d jump up from my seat, point at Cammy, and scream, “Look! See! She’s not falling into line! She’s the same as always.”
My chest aches, and I let the dream dissolve.
That scenario might give me a nano-second of satisfaction. But swiftly, the repercussions would beat me down.
One, Mrs. Field reacts to me disrupting a classroom again.
Two, Coach Oliver has me running something ridiculous like ten laps of the gym.
Three, Cammy will never forgive me and will torture me worse than I could imagine.
I look down at the gold charm bracelet she gave me.
It’s like a shackle, keeping me tied to her.
I’d take it off if it weren’t so dang pretty.
Oh gosh, now I just feel sad when I look at it.
It’s a reminder of one of Cammy’s good days.
When she was actually the best friend I remember, before all the crap with her parents went down.
The Cammy that bought me this bracelet can be kind and tons of fun.
Why won’t she come back?
There’s a cackle of laughter behind me, shooting prickles along my spine. I cross my arms and dig my manicured fingers into my elbows and focus on the pain. I focus on the sting in my jaw from biting down so hard. I focus on the headache burrowing deeper into my skull.
Pain is all I have.
It’s my one savior.
It’s my best distraction from whatever Cammy throws my way.
Oh Lord, I wanna get back in her good graces.
I want to be sitting beside her.
I want to be laughing with her.
It’s better than this.
Being by her side halves my fear.