Chapter 10
It hurts.
The revelation that I care about how he speaks to me, what he thinks of me, is an unexpected discovery.
Our first meeting in kindergarten was casual.
We weren't friends, merely acquainted classmates because I made up my mind that I couldn't stand him.
And then he stole my juice box, solidifying how I felt.
So, at first, it made little sense why I cared about the opinions of someone I have been talking to for about seven days.
But that's why it hurts. Of everyone I know, he's the one who has kept me company while I was bedridden and miserable. Confined to my bedroom or the living room, our phone calls would stretch well past three hours. Sometimes, he would text me silly memes and videos.
He thought I could use some light in my life while imprisoned at home for a solid week.
He was my escape. He kept the unwanted thoughts at bay.
Sasha and Ashton texted. The others queried my return. But it was different when he called because I looked forward to our conversations.
He's surprisingly thoughtful, open-minded, and a good listener. He doesn't judge me the way my friends do and because of that, I allowed myself to grow closer to him. I'm comfortable talking to him about things I typically wouldn't with my friends.
Their conversations are usually shallow, revolving around materialistic, trivial matters, trends that everybody else is talking about which I don't care about.
Things that highlight their vanity, falsity, and lack of individuality that makes me wish I never allowed myself to be lured in by the perks and glamour of popularity.
With Sky and his friends, it's different.
They're popular too but for different reasons.
They hail from powerful families – the founding families of Jasper Falls.
They're county royalty, generationally wealthy, and will most likely grow to become part of the elite circle that secretly runs Jasper Falls.
And yet Dale, Sky, and Asher are shunned because Blake and Brent decided they should be for a reason I'm not aware of or one I'm privy to.
I don't know. Brent stopped telling me things a long time ago despite numerous and fruitless efforts to save our dying friendship. One day we were fine, and the next, he started to cut me off as though I'm important.
I learned to accept it. A lot of people still think we're best friends because we hang out together, but that's the image – it's all about appearances to look like an exclusive, united front.
It's annoying the way they mocked and snickered at Sky when he approached us at lunch.
I wanted to stand up and defend him but that would invite unnecessary drama I'm not in the mood to deal with.
Blake would make a comment that would irritate my soul to heaven and back.
Brent would read into it too much and start getting ideas.
Not wanting to damage my reputation, I reverted to the bully persona. I ridiculed Sky's invite, but nothing prepared me for the bitter tone or the quiet fury.
After that, it was difficult to concentrate on school because I kept thinking of how to approach him without getting my head ripped off. Thought about how to apologize and make it sound genuine.
But he avoided me. In the hallways. In the classes we shared that afternoon, he never looked at me.
Sky is intent on giving me the cold shoulder.
I texted him that evening to apologize but got no response.
I'm not sure why I bothered hounding him to accept my apology.
We aren't awfully close, but I've started to consider him a friend.
One whose opinion matters to me, one who I enjoy being around.
Fixing things with him is suddenly the most important thing, so, I was emotionally drained, defeated when 7:36 AM rolled around on Friday morning and realized he had blocked my number.
He didn't look my way the entire day.
It's now afternoon and school is done for the week. Katy's party is the last place I want to be but talking my way out of attending is proving more of a task than I care for. Almost every weekend this semester, there's been a party I made an appearance to.
This weekend, I want to do something else.
I'm getting fed up with the same old routine:
School.
Basketball.
Shallow friends.
Party.
Repeat.
I want to do something spontaneous and fun. Something that doesn't call for alcohol consumption, loud music until I'm sure I've gone temporarily deaf and every molecule in my body is vibrating from the bass.
I would hang out with Sasha and Ashton when we don't want to party. We're a close-knit unit and practically inseparable, but I'm out of luck this weekend.
"I don't know," I apologize lamely to Brent and Katy. A few of my other 'friends' are close by, gathered near our cars.
Among those friends is the principal's son, Blake Dalton.
"Why not? You missed out last weekend's party," he points out. Sometimes I wonder if all that popularity goes to his head because he says the stupidest shit.
"I was sick. You expected me to show up when I couldn't even get out of bed?" I fire, not at all afraid to let him hear how stupid he sounds. Blake takes the jab into stride turning back to the girl plastered to him like a leech.
I'll never understand this asshole. He hooks up with every girl he gets his hands on, but it never escapes my notice how he longingly stares at Alexa Peters, a girl in the class next door.
Everybody knows that Blake Dalton has a big, stinking crush on Alexa Peters.
Before the height of his popularity struck, they used to be friends, and he wasn't subtle about his feelings.
Neither was she. She was proud of him and flaunted him, cheered him on at every turn.
Then he got really popular and ditched her for different girls.
Everyone knows that Blake never stopped liking her. Yet he continues to treat her like shit.
People suspect Alexa might still hold feelings for him.
But here's the thing: She's unfairly cute.
Deep chocolate brown eyes, freckles dotting her cheeks and nose.
She's light years out of his league. A bit of a tomboy but a total sweetheart who speaks to anyone.
She's kind, mature, and fiercely protective of her freshman brother.
Blake is too immature to handle someone like her, and he knows it.
That's why the girls he dates can't hold a candle to her and he changes them like he changes underwear.
Ever since Sky and I started talking, I'd find his blatant condescension off-putting but at the same time, I never disagree because his opinions of my friends have been a true eye-opener. I'm beginning to see those flaws myself.
It's always been there, just ignored. The more flaws I recognize, the less I want to be around them.
"That's understandable," Brent returns, slinging an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. Katy leans into his side. "But you've recovered now. Why not show up?"
"I'm not in the mood to be around a bunch of people and loud music."
"Boring!" Blake sings like an obnoxious jerk who thinks he's hilarious, unknowingly testing my patience. My mood is soured with Sky's silent treatment draining me more than usual. I'm already physically drained from the cold as my strength hasn't fully returned. Those fevers did a number on me.
Another indicator. Another sign.
I hardly muster a sigh of frustration, debating the pros and cons of telling them.
How would they react? I don't think they have the capacity to care that while they are living life burden free, mine is quickly falling apart on the inside.
I am afraid. It's why Ashton doesn't know. It's why Sasha has no clue about it. It's my burden to carry anyhow.
Though I want to stay at home this weekend, allow myself to recover however best I can, part of me wants to accept Carter's invitation. A change of pace would be a nice distraction, avoiding my mind from wandering to darker places.
"I don't have to explain myself to any of you. I've already made up my mind," I spit, control on my irritation with them lapsing, lacing each word.
It stuns them. Blake looks at Brent in confusion, probably silently asking what my problem is. How would he know?
Ashton and Sasha give me questioning looks. They understand I'd prefer spending my weekend some other way but it's rare I lose my temper.
"You're thinking about accepting Hayes' invite, aren't you?" Brent fires. His gaze is ever judgmental.
I don't respond, letting them reach their own conclusions from the silence. Blake laughs as 'girl of the hour' leans into his side clinging to him like white on rice.
"You're really going out on a limb here.
Hanging out with those losers? Man, I thought I knew you!
Who knows? Maybe next time we see you, they'd have brainwashed you or some shit.
" Blake shakes his head morosely as if I'm about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
Girl of the hour giggles along, clinging to the bastard like he's some prized possession.
I suppose he is.
If you're into douche.
A smile teases the corners of my mouth. How bold of them to decide that they knew me at all?
"Last I checked, Dalton, I don't need your approval. If I want to hang out with Carter and his friends, I'll do so."
"You're going to ruin your reputation." Brent stares at me, urging me to change my mind, to retract my statement.
"Yeah," his girlfriend pipes up, "if you go, you can't hang out with us anymore. We have a code and if you don't fit –"
Katy is cut off by my scoff. "You accept Carter without fuss."
"Carter's different," she responds, glaring at me.
I'm sure he is and that his old-money wealth and powerful family name have nothing to do with it. He's not likely to be ridiculed for the company he keeps because he's the star quarterback on top of the social status attached to his last name.
"Carter invited me. Besides, it's one evening."
"One evening?" Blake squawks. I wish his lungs would croak for a full minute. "You think we didn't notice how friendly you've gotten with Daniels? What's up with that?"
Brent is full-on glaring now. He could take that glare and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. I have no energy for this petty high school drama.
"You've been hanging out with that guy?" Brent all but yells as if I'm his bitch.
I roll my eyes, aware that Ashton and Sasha are getting irritated too.
Ashton continues scrolling through his phone to ignore the conversation, but his face is set like stone, eyebrows pinched.
Sasha clings to my arm, her nose and mouth buried in my shoulder. A classic Sasha Vernon tactic to avoid chewing out our lovely friends. In confrontations like this, she'll use me as an anchor to keep her mouth shut. If there's food, she'll pretend that satiating hunger is the lesser evil.
"He's been tutoring Sky," she snaps, losing her cool. "Then the storm came, and he was stranded at Sky's home. What's wrong with Jace making a new friend?" she challenges, squeezing her fingers into my jacket to hide the tremble.
Katy scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Do what you want. We're just trying to help you save your reputation because we're your friends. If we suddenly stop hanging out with you three, you know why."
"That makes no sense," Ashton fires, speaking up for the first time since this dumb conversation started. "If you're his friends, you'll understand that he doesn't want to party. You'll respect that and be okay with him making new friends, too."
"Whatever," Blake says. "Let's leave, guys." As if they're mindless sheep, they disperse at his command. Brent says nothing to me, departing with a disappointed side eye, tugging his girlfriend along to his black GMC Sierra.
"Maybe you three will start thinking properly when Monday rolls around," Blake comments slipping into the driver's seat of his metallic gray Mustang GT, girl of the hour sliding into the front passenger's.
One by one, the cars of the popular crowd exit the parking lot leaving us three behind, leaning against the hood of my Camaro. Silence passes between us as Blake's Mustang drives out last and he flips us the middle finger before speeding off.
"Why are we friends with them?" Ashton questions. It's rhetorical because he doesn't need an answer, simply questioning the desperation that drove us to this point.
By the laws of nature, we shouldn't be friends with them. We wouldn't. But still, I grace him with a response applicable to our predicament.
"Peer pressure."
And it rings true.
Ashton is a vital player to the basketball team, but his status could plummet with a few fabricated rumors that would turn the entire school against him. He would lose the respect of his peers and with his social relationships falling to shit, he'd be forced to quit.
It's the same for me, despite being captain of the basketball team, and the same for Sasha, even if she singlehandedly shaped the cheerleading squad.
At Jasper Falls High, rumors are powerful weapons. People at school are sheep. If they're not blind followers, they fall in line to avoid the hungry wolves lurking near the edges of the meadow.
If Sky, Dale, and Asher – as popular as they are, hailing from wealthy, founding families – still have their reputations mouthed off to for some reason or the other, what chance do we stand for daring to be associated with them, or to defend them?
"Whatever," Sasha finalizes. "We don't need their opinions or permissions.
" She turns to me. "Look, Ashton and I are booked this weekend.
If you want to hang out with Carter and his friends, go ahead.
Or you can always tag along with me. Just, we're leaving this afternoon and mightn't return until Sunday evening. But you could still come along."
I smile at her offer, her consideration. I may have accepted but both of them have familial affairs, and I don't wish to intrude.
Sasha's grandfather is turning seventy. In celebration, the entire family planned a trip outside of Schrattner's County into the more sophisticated Cassiopeia, a town in Murdoc Province over the bridge.
Ashton has been talking about his weekend for almost two weeks. His military father is returning home after one year's deployment. He rarely speaks of it, but I know he misses his dad. I can't imagine being the child of a military parent, praying the day never comes when a box is what comes home.
"It's fine. I don't want to impose."
Sasha doesn't persist, understanding how I feel.
"I'd hang out with you, but I haven't seen my dad in over a year," Ashton says. "Hey! Maybe if you're up to it, we could hang out on Sunday." His offer makes me laugh.
"It's alright, guys. I could use the rest anyhow. I haven't fully recovered from the cold –" My phone vibrates, and I fish it out to see Carter's name flash atop the notification bubble.
I check the two messages from him. The first is an address sent with mapped location, and the second reads, 'Be there, tonight. 6 pm. It's the house with the yellow and pink flowers. Or I'll kidnap you and drag you along.'
I hold up the phone. Ashton leans closer to peek at the message. "Looks like Carter isn't giving me much of an option. He sent me his address."
My phone vibrates again, and another message pops up. This one says, 'Walk with clothes. We might run out because you're staying the weekend. The WHOLE weekend.'
Why is he so demanding?
'What if I don't want to spend the weekend?'
His message comes in a moment later. 'You dare challenge the might of the king, mere mortal?'
'I don't have a choice, do I?'
Carter's reply comes immediately. 'Glad you realized,' it reads, topped with a winking emoji.
It appears my weekend is booked because I've no intention of getting kidnapped and dragged all the way to Carter's house. At least I won't spend my weekend pretending to like people who aren't nice, trying to avoid getting hit on or groped by intoxicated, horny people.
I want to be around people who make me comfortable which is how I feel around Sky and company. I'll admit, I'm looking forward to seeing Sky if it means clearing the air.
There's something about that guy I can't pinpoint. He has an air of mystery around him, like he's wrapped himself tight in walls of steel. I can never tell what he's thinking.
Besides, I can't handle the idea of him being angry with me or harboring disappointment. After spending time with him, I'm seeing him in a different light.
But there's something I noticed about him the night that he made pancakes from scratch. It happened when I mentioned his mom.
I don't think Sky has properly coped with his mother's passing.
I picked that up from the way he reacts when she is mentioned, or if he's asked about her.
It's not that I'm unnecessarily observant.
Growing up with a mother who works professionally as a psychiatrist, I've learned a thing or two about the behaviors people exhibit and the possible meanings behind it.
As much as I want to see Sky this weekend, I won't go unless one condition is met. Entitled, I know. But like any sane person, I'm not about to spend the weekend looking over my shoulder.
'Will Lianna be there?'
The dots pop up, and Carter's reply comes seconds later. 'After what happened, Sky doesn't want to be anywhere near her. You're good. And this is a guys' night, anyhow.'
That makes me breathe a little easier.
"Guys, I've got to head home," Ashton informs, checking his phone. "My sister just texted. Mom's gone to get dad from the airport and there's still some things that need to get done for his party."
"Tell your parents I said hello," I call after him as he starts for his car.
"Have fun!" Sasha calls, waving after him. Ashton drives off, leaving Sasha and me alone. She turns around with a bright smile. "Want to get something to eat?"
"Sure. Hey, Sasha?" She looks at me with a soft smile, waiting for my next words as I draw her closer, putting my hands around her waist. She hugs my shoulders. "You're okay with me hanging out with Carter and his friends instead of going with you, right?"
Sasha twists her lips with a raised eyebrow.
"Want me to be honest?" I nod, and she mimics my actions.
"I'd rather you hang out with a fish all weekend than those superficial bozos.
" Sasha places her hands on both sides of my neck, staring deeply into my eyes.
"You don't need permission to make new friends.
So, what if Carter has friends Brent and the others don't like?
I'm sure if they were terrible people, Carter wouldn't be caught dead with them. "
"So long as you're cool with it."
"Frosty cool! Now, pizza," Sasha chirps, grinning so hard her cheeks are seconds away from swallowing her eyes. I laugh at her swift change in attitude and together, we head to the hottest spot in town for the best pizza.
Vega's Bar and Eatery. Though they don't specialize in pizza – the menu made up of burgers, pizza, and other greasy foods – it's far better than Rich's Pizza Palace.
It used to be the pizza hotspot a few years back but now they've gone downhill.
From what I've heard, the restaurant isn't doing as good the last decade or so.
With very few customers, and most of the staff leaving because of the unsafe location and rising numbers of robberies and shootings, I'm surprised the place is still open.
Our pizzas in hand, Sasha opting for two slices of pepperoni and cheese, and I, a family-sized chicken and jalape?o, I drop her off at home where her parents are already milling about the driveway, packing suitcases into the trunk of the family SUV.
She leaves with a cheek kiss, and I go home, eating three slices of my delicious pizza and leaving the rest for my parents. I'll have to inform them of the last-minute change of plan, so I busy myself with homework and packing a bag for the weekend.
My parents are laid back people despite working many long hours and fussing over me relentlessly. They never stop me from hanging out with friends, partying and whatever else so long as I return home by curfew, don't come home drunk, or do something incredibly idiotic like drugs.
I don't need to jeopardize my already uncertain lifespan.
My parents trust me, so I know they wouldn't mind me spending a weekend away. They'd just give me a lengthy lecture about things I already know.
I'm killing zombies when the front door opens and closes, the cheerful sounds of my mother's giggles fluttering into the living room.
Behind her is Dad, wearing a big, goofy grin, looking at my mother as though she's the most beautiful woman in the world.
It amazes me how they still love each other so much after all these years of marriage.
Mom and Dad sober their laughter and flirting as they spot me and Dad drops one last kiss on Mom's cheek. Dad grows curious seeing me dressed and with a packed bag.
"Going somewhere?" he queries, shrugging off his jacket as they walk into the living room. "But first, how are you feeling?"
"I'm okay, Dad. Nothing happened today."
My father nods, picking up my bag and inspecting it. He sets aside and takes its spot next to me.
"What's the bag for, sweetie?" Mom prods, sitting on the other side of me, slipping off her heels. She flops against the backrest and lets out a puff of air before affectionately patting my cheek.
I'm now caged between Mom and Dad as they wait for an explanation.
"Some friends invited me to spend the weekend."
Mom purses her lips in judgment. Dad voices his disapproval – the same one I am sure my mother is thinking. They're like-minded that way.
"Those buffoons?"
I shake my head. "Carter Hayes. He and some of his friends are getting together and they asked me over."
Carter is Jasper Falls royalty. Born into one of the town's most prestigious families, he is well-known and liked.
"Oh!" Mom chirps cheerfully, "I guess you'll be back on Sunday?" When I nod, Mom giggles, stretching out her arms to engulf me – no, squish me – with a big hug. "Okay, then. Have fun, my sweet little munchkin."
"Mom," I protest, sitting limply in her embrace.
"And don't do anything stupid," she scolds.
"I know, Mom. Please stop."
"No," she retorts, peppering my cheek with kisses. "Ever since you hit that growth spurt, you never have time for me." Oh, what a big, fat, exaggerated lie. "But I've caught you!" She hugs me tight, rocking back and forth. I swear, sometimes this woman forgets that I am not five anymore.
"Dad, help!"
"Remember to walk with everything," he reminds, ignoring my pleas for rescue. Giving up on resisting, I figure that if I sit there, eventually she'll let go. "Don't make me call you or get a call I don't want," he adds, shooting me a warning stare that I can't help but roll my eyes at.
"Call us at least three times over the weekend," Mom suggests, keeping her embrace tight. At this point, she's teasing me, hoping I fight back, whine and groan about how it's not cool for a mom to be this way about her nearly full-grown son.
Like I would reject her. Or Dad. Every hug counts.
"Of course. I don't need Dad putting a GPS on my phone, again."
Dad grins wide with no shame over that stunt he pulled a few years back.
One time I went to the beach with Sasha and Ashton without notifying them.
They tried calling me because it was getting late, and I'd lied about where I was.
When I got back, Dad downloaded a GPS app and told me never to take my phone off.
I was grounded for two weeks, and my only source of transportation was either him or Mom.
They didn't trust me to take the bus to school.
After that, I never lied to them again. But what could I have done? Fifteen years old and I'm perfectly certain they would've persuaded me to let them tag along though it's a ten-minute walk to the coast.
Mom and Dad aren't strict but they worry about me incessantly.
Dad cackles, his entire body trembling with laughter at a memory he fondly recalls. "Good times! But really, don't make me keep tabs on you."
Mom frees me as I reach for my bag saying, "I'll call if something happens."
"Good man," Dad comments, doing that thing he always does where he ruffles the back of my hair.
With a wave to my parents, I head to my car.