Chapter 16: Chapter 16

They’re back to their old tricks. In the morning, Beth and I approach my locker, and someone has taped condoms to it spelling out the word slut in blue and gold foil.

“Not this old shit again,” Beth yanks off the S. “Can’t these kids learn how to spell anything new? Why is their vocabulary so limited?”

I laugh while I peel off the L. “There’s a lesson here.”

“What? Practice safe sex?”

I laugh harder. “No,” I lower my voice. “I always have to be on guard and watch my back. Not everyone will accept me.”

Beth carefully sticks the condoms onto the inside flap of her messenger bag.

“Plan to use them later?” I ask.

She wrinkles her nose. “Not alone.” And then she winks. “Yeah, you know what? We’re going to use them later.”

My eyebrows shoot up, and Beth laughs. “Trust me.” She smiles with a devilish curve to her lips. “We’re going to have fun.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Even lunch is boring. Arielle remains at the first table only because I don’t want to stir up catfight drama. Mrs. Petrenko stands by the wall nearest to the first table, trying her best to look casual while another math teacher circles the room. After Lucas and Arielle’s latest meltdown, Cromwell added an extra teacher to lunch duty as if their presence could change the dysfunction into something healthy. Thank God Cromwell didn’t have us in another assembly lecturing us about peace, harmony, and getting along.

But I’m not going to let Arielle have her way one hundred percent. I invite Beth and Mancuso to sit at the second table. Cora’s like a stray magnet and she keeps wandering over to speak to Mancuso. They’re so cute to watch. She sits on his lap instead of getting an extra chair, but when Arielle calls, Cora goes scampering back. But I’m not doing it just to be kind. Mancuso is our link to Cora, and Arielle won’t be suspicious if she sees Cora hanging around us when he’s close by.

My phone chimes, and I check it. There’s mail in my account. I hardly ever check my mail, but this is marked urgent. It’s a notification that someone was trying to get into my account earlier. I look up and scan the lunchroom. Beth wouldn’t do this again, and Arielle is actually busy talking to a junior girl—a hopeful candidate that will want to take her place after she’s graduated. The girl’s a recruit, and I guess screwing with me is the dare. But neither of them have their phones out.

My gaze scans the room until it lands on Anthony. His eyes widen as I glare back at him, and quickly, he shoves his phone into his backpack. I’m on my feet and moving before I consider being cautious. Anthony’s been sitting alone at his table at the back. The table where the three of us used to sit together, but Beth has definitely moved on as she sits with her back to Anthony, joking with Jacob.

Anthony slings his backpack off the table and onto a chair. His old bag is gone, replaced with a new one with a bazillion zippers and a socket for his electronics. The tag is some upstart tech company, and I know they’re pricey because Uncle Phil was looking to buy a similar style in a messenger bag.

“Let me see your phone,” I demand.

Anthony leans back and barely looks me in the eye. “It’s not your business.”

“I want to see it anyway,” I hiss.

“And what happens when I say no again?” His eyes meet mine, challenging me to lash out. “You going to call your boyfriends over to get it?”

I yank the chair out beside him, not caring that people are staring over at us. Watching, Jacob is turned in his seat. He’s ready to run over and clamp down on Anthony like a pit bull. I wonder if they’ve always hated each other.

I follow Anthony’s gaze straight to Arielle. She glances over but continues to talk to the junior. Casually, she pats her blonde hair as if Anthony is of little interest to her. I look back at Anthony, and I know by his guilty expression who gave him that ridiculously overpriced backpack.

I face forward, not looking at him as I speak. And Anthony mimics me. To a casual observer, we don’t look as if we know one another.

“Arielle isn’t what you think she is, Anthony,” I say quietly.

He scoffs. “You mean she’s not like you.”

“I’ve heard that dig before, and it’s getting dull. I mean that she will use you the same way she used Beth.”

“Beth is fickle,” he replies. “And she wasn’t up front with her.”

“What does that even mean?” I shake my head in disbelief. Jacob turns in his seat, so he’s facing us, but the posturing only makes Anthony laugh.

“Tell your boy that I’m getting a restraining order against him if he raises a fist to me again.”

I sigh, realizing that this intervention is useless. Any friendship that we had is long gone. Anthony and I don’t have the connection that Beth and I have. Beth and I can have bad times and still find each other again. Anthony will always be lost.

“Look.” Stubbornly, I try again. “She’s vindictive, so be careful. And stay out of my accounts. My uncle secured all of them. So you’d have to do more than just try to guess a password.”

I don’t look at Anthony as I walk back to my table.

“What was that about?” Jacob turns to face me sternly. In fact, they’re all screwing up their faces into judgmental scowls as I sit down. I laugh when I notice Mancuso looking overly concerned, as if I should also answer to him.

“I was just telling him to behave,” I reply lightly. I don’t want to tell a lie, but I also don’t want to broadcast my business in the cafeteria. “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but he sent a text to Uncle Phil asking for a reference. Nothing big.”

“What a loser.” Troy scoffs. “If I ever catch him at your uncle’s house ...”

“Look,” I groan in exasperation. “Will you guys stop beating him up? If you keep punching him in the head, he won’t be able to count past two. I want Anthony to graduate and move on. Just leave him alone.”

“Ignoring him fucks with his head more,” Beth adds to the conversation. “He wants to look cool, not be the fool.”

The boys laugh, and Jacob pats Beth heavy-handedly on her back. She pitches forward, and his face falls in alarm. Beth scowls and then slaps his hard stomach. She winces as her hand makes contact with ripped muscle.

Beth laughs. “Like a drum, mutha-fucker Fleming.”

But the laughter dies down as we look toward the first table. Vicki is standing at the far side of the table, talking to Arielle. Vicki is the center of attention in head-to-toe Montlake plaid and black. Her long blonde hair is shaggy over her oversized plaid shirt, her black bra is visible under her black turtleneck, and her plaid mini meets the tops of her suede thigh-high boots. She looks like a reality TV star.

The outfit is so fearless that even Beth is gawking. “Goddamn,” she stares with an open mouth. “I feel old.”

Carefully, I glance over at Troy. His face is red, but not from embarrassment. He’s in a fury. Vicki’s outfit doesn’t speak money; it’s hollering issues. Troy is on his feet, across the room, and hauls a kicking Vicki out of the cafeteria by her upper arm.

We all look to Jacob, and he holds up his hands. “I know nothing about that shit,” he replies.

“You talk to him more than I do now,” replies Lucas. “Did you know his sister was back?”

I knew, but the code told me to keep my mouth shut. That’s not it. Screw the code; I just didn’t want to gossip. And I didn’t expect to see Vicki at Montlake.

“She can’t be a student,” I whisper as we all hunch shoulders toward the center of the table. “It’s too late in the year.”

“Not if your last name is Saunders,” says Lucas. “The Saunders practically built Montlake, remember? I’m sure Cromwell was willing to make an exception for them if she’s a student.”

Beth scoffs. “Why else would anyone be here?”

Arielle leaves her seat and saunters out of the cafeteria, out of sight. Beth hisses until she gets Cora’s attention. Cora frowns, placing a slim finger to her lips. She leans back, dangerously close to falling out of her chair, to look around the corner.

“Way to go, Reds,” whispers Mancuso.

Troy comes around the corner, and we all start shoveling food into our mouth as if we’ve been eating all along. Troy sits down but doesn’t speak. He stares at his grilled chicken sandwich as if he ordered vegan instead and doesn’t want this mess on his plate. He pushes it away with a hard scowl.

I’m bursting to know, but we can’t talk here. None of us can speak here. Arielle comes back into view, smiling, but Vicki doesn’t return with her. She smiles graciously at Troy, and Troy gives her a look of disgust. I’m thankful he never gave me that wicked look because that would’ve been the day I moved out of state.