The Opposite of Ordinary

  I’m thrown back to reality as I spot Knox striding down the hallway toward us, looking pissed off and ready to have a bitch fight. Maxon tracks my gaze then stiffens, his hands remaining on my waist.

  “Ash, what the fuck are doing?” Knox hisses, stopping in front of me, his face bright red.

  I straighten but don’t move away from Maxon, seeking his comfort, though I know I shouldn’t. “That’s really none of your business.”

  He slants toward me, lowering his voice. “Please tell me you’re not hooking up with this guy?”

  “If I was, again, it wouldn’t be any of your business.” My voice is all smooth, like cool silk, while in reality, I’m more lost than a bird that’s crashed into a window.

  Why does he seem to care what I do all of a sudden? When he saw me with Clove and Maxon at the gas station, he didn’t give a damn. Then again, I wasn’t participating in a very steamy—at least on my part—tickling fight with Maxon when we were at the gas station.

  “I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” Knox snaps, glaring at Maxon standing behind me with his hands still on my waist. “I can’t believe you’d throw our year-long relationship away for some loser.”

  “He’s not a loser, and don’t you dare call him that! And I can’t throw away a relationship that doesn’t exist anymore.” Something snaps inside me—shatters—and suddenly I’m shoving him back. “And that year-long relationship was nothing but a joke.”

  He staggers back, wide-eyed and shocked. Then the shock rapidly shifts to anger.

  “How can you call what we had a joke?” he growls. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t to me.”

  “Sure it wasn’t,” I bite back, heavy on the bitter sarcasm. “That’s why you screwing around behind my back the entire time we were together was nothing but a stupid joke.”

  “Stop saying joke like that! And you’re the goddamn cheater! I was faithful all the way up until the end.” He leans into my face, a vein in his forehead bulging. “I’m not the whore. You are. You’re the one who should be suffering, not me.”

  I shiver from his horrible words and the fury burning in his eyes. Up until this point, he’d been so blasé about our breakup that I didn’t think he cared. Now, the look in his eyes …

  I shudder.

  “All right, that’s enough.” Maxon’s loud, clipped tone shocks me so badly I jump. He folds his fingers around my upper arms and tows me down the hallway away from Knox. “Come on, Ash; let’s go.”

  Nodding, I let him steer me away from Knox in a daze, his fingers gripping my arm tightly.

  “You can’t walk away from this!” Knox yells after us, causing jaws to drop around us. “Both of you can’t!”

  My muscles constrict at his subtle threat directed toward Maxon, but I keep walking, one foot in front of the other, and Knox doesn’t follow us. Thank God.

  “Are you okay?” Maxon cups my cheek a few minutes later after we’ve rounded the corner and have gotten far, far away from Knox and the tizzy fit of his glare.

  I bob my head up and down, dazed out of my mind by his hand on my cheek. “Yeah … I’m fine.” My voice sounds breathless, soft, totally lovestruck dumb, the epitome of what I’m feeling.

  Come on, Ash; could you be any more obvious?

  I shake myself out of the daze and focus on alleviating the worry in his eyes. “Sorry about that. I have no idea what the heck got into him. He’s usually not such a douche …” I trail off as Maxon elevates his brows, giving me an okay look as he lowers his hand from my face. “Fine, maybe he is, but not to me.” Remembering what Queeny said about him being a dirty little manwhore, I add, “Well, not in a way I was aware of.”

  “I’m sorry you have to go through this. Whether he thinks you cheated on him or not, he shouldn’t yell at you like that. He was completely out of line. You need to stay away from him, okay? Don’t go near him anymore. Promise me you won’t.” The tremble in his tone causes me to pause. That’s when I realize he’s trembling all over.

  “Are you okay?” I touch his arm, and he stiffens. Guilt washes over me in a powerful, violent wave.

  Clarissa was right. I never should’ve dragged Maxon into this bucketful of shitty drama that has now become my life. Now that I have, Knox has threatened Maxon because of my stupid decision.

  “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve brought you into this drama. I promise Knox won’t do anything to you—I’ll make sure of it.” How I’m going to follow through with that promise is a mystery. A mystery I will solve no matter what.

  “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.” Uneasiness crawls into his expression. “I don’t want him coming after you.”

  “He won’t do anything to hurt me,” I assure him. “He’s mostly talk with no bite. Trust me.”

  He swallows hard, his body continuing to tremble. “Everyone who’s ever been hurt by someone has probably said that at one time or another, so please be careful.” Then he turns and walks into the classroom, leaving me to wonder how he arrived at that conclusion. Was it just a theory? Or did someone he didn’t think would hurt him do exactly that?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Maxon remains fairly quiet during class, only chatting with me a bit during the few minutes of free time. When the bell rings, he seems distracted and barely says good-bye before heading off to his next class.

  I remain stuck in a sticky pit of unease quicksand for rest of the day, worrying what could be bothering him—if it was Knox threatening us, worried he’ll come after us, or maybe he just had a harsh awakening of what he was going to have to deal with while being friends with me.

  I plan on talking to him during the drive home, but my mom sends me a text during the last period, telling me she needs me to work at the store for a while, and that she’ll pick me up from school. I don’t see Maxon in the hallways when the final bell rings, so I don’t get another chance to talk to him. I do bump into Clove, though, on my way out to the parking lot.

  “You’re not riding with us?” he asks as I walk toward my mom’s car parked near the back.

  “I wish I could,” I tell him, my boots splashing in the fresh rain puddles covering the ground. “But my mom’s here.”

  He walks backward in front of me with his hands in his back pockets. “You’re going to ride with us tomorrow, though, right?”

  “If you’re offering, then yeah.” I pause. “You might want to check with Maxon before you do.”

  He huffs an exhausted sigh. “I thought we already went over this. Max is totally cool with you riding with us. In fact, I think he kind of prefers it.”

  I pull my sunglasses out of my bag and slip them on as the sun peeks out from the clouds. “Yeah, but he might have changed his mind after this afternoon.”

  “You mean after Knox yelled at you?” Clove asks, stopping next to the trunk of his car.

  I frown. “You heard about that?”

  He offers me a sympathetic look. “You know how rumors travel around here.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I sigh, leaning against the back of his car. “Maxon seemed really upset after it happened, and he barely said anything to me during class … I think he might be a little upset that I put a bunch of drama on him.”

  Clove digs a set of keys out of his pocket. “I don’t think that’s what it was about.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  “Okay.” I scuff the tip of my boot against the asphalt. “And if you guys decide it might be best for me to get my own rides and find my own place to eat lunch, just let me know.”

  He rolls his eyes as he unlocks the driver’s side door. “We’re not going to decide that, so stop saying that.”

  I rest my arms on the trunk. “I just want to make sure you guys don’t feel obligated to hang out with me.”

  “We don’t feel that way. If we do later, we’ll send you a memo.” He sighs, resting his arms on the roof and looking at me. “Ash, look, I get why you’re a litt
le confused about how this friendship thing works, considering who your friends were, but usually when someone decides to be your friend, you don’t have to keep double-checking to make sure they don’t want out of the friendship. It’s kind of an unwritten rule that friends will stay friends unless they get into a huge fight or something. Even then, it doesn’t mean the friendship’s over, okay?”

  I blink at him. Holy mother of all friendship speeches.

  “Okay. I’ll try to stop asking so much.” I back away from his car. “Nice speech, by the way. Ever thought about taking debate?”

  He laughs, pulling open the door. “Yeah, right. Have you ever seen me stand up in front of a crowd before?” He exaggeratedly opens his eyes wide. “I suffer from deer-in-the-headlights syndrome.”

  “That’s really hard to believe. You seem like such a people person.”

  “Only around people I like.”

  I press my hand to my heart. “Aw, are you saying you like me?”

  He holds his finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe just a little.” Then he lowers his head, slides into his car, and starts up the engine.

  I walk away, his words floating through my mind. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am confused about how friendships work. Queeny always made me feel like I had to be on her good side or I was out, so I spent the last six years attempting to make her happy and making sure she wasn’t annoyed with me. Six years of not being myself, of lying, of pretending, of fearing, all so I could hang out with the cool kids. For what? Just so I could get kicked out of her little clique the one time I pissed her off.

  You know, when she told me we were never friends, I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart. Now, after listening to what Clove said, the wound doesn’t seem so deep anymore. Maybe because our friendship wasn’t as meaningful as I wanted to believe it was.

  “Everything okay?” Mom asks as I climb into the passenger side of the car.

  I nod, closing the door. “You know, I think it might be.” Well, it will be eventually. I just need to get through a few steps first, one being telling Maxon and Clove what I did. Because I don’t want a friendship built on lies and fear with them. I want the kind of friendship Clove described.

  I want a good one.

  I just hope they’ll still want to be my friend when the truth comes out

  Chapter Fifteen

  I plan on going over to Maxon’s house after work to talk to him, but by the time I get home, it’s almost eleven o’clock at night, so I decide to wait until morning.

  Then, during our drive to school the next morning, he’s quiet, like he’s stuck in his own head and can’t get out. The longer his silent treatment goes on, the more I worry he’ll never talk to me again. Clove doesn’t agree with me.

  “He just gets moody sometimes when he gets stressed out about something he can’t quite solve,” he explains as he walks me to my first class, gym, which … yuck.

  “Do you know what he’s stressed out about?” I ask, stopping in front of the girls’ locker room.

  “It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. He could just be stressing out over some project, or he could be working through what happened with Knox in the hallway.” He runs a hand over the top of his head, smoothing his hair into place. “My bet is he’ll be over it by tonight.”

  I pick at a loose thread on the hem of my black, floral dress and crack a nervous joke to cover up my anxiety. “Why? Does his moodiness have a twenty-four-hour bug or something?”

  His lips spread into a cheerful smile. “And there you are. I thought I lost you for a moment.”

  “Huh?”

  “You weren’t acting like the snarky Ash I talked to on Monday, who I like very, very much.”

  “Well, I’ll try to bring her out for ya, but she’s kind of sleepy today because she slept like crap last night.”

  “You weren’t worrying about friend stuff, were you? Because I told you to stop doing that.”

  “No, it wasn’t that.” I drag the zipper of my leather jacket up and down, feeling restless and fidgety. “My dad’s had all of these surgeries because he fell off the roof of our house, and sometimes he wakes up in a lot of pain. And whenever he does, I always end up lying in bed, wishing I could help him.”

  He steps forward as a group of cheerleaders walk by, giggling, and I fight back a giggle myself when he leans back to check them out.

  “Aw, Ash, I’m sorry that’s happening.” He blinks his attention back on me. “That’s gotta suck.”

  “It does sometimes, but I’m sure it sucks more for him. I just hope the next surgery does the trick.” According to what my mom told me last night, there will be one more surgery.

  He opens his mouth, but the bell intervenes.

  “Shit, I have to get to my locker, or I’m going to be late for class. I already have, like, fifteen tardies this semester.” He waves good-bye from over his shoulder as he hurries away.

  I enter the locker room, my thoughts stuck in Worrying-If-Maxon-Is-Ever-Going-To-Talk-To-Me Nightmare Land. Then my ass is kicked back to reality when I hear Janie’s high-pitched voice squeaking with excitement.

  Shit. I screech to a halt at the end of the row of lockers and line my back against the metal to eavesdrop and to avoid crossing paths with her.

  “I can’t believe he really went through with it.” She lets out an ear-splitting squeal that I swear makes the lockers around me vibrate. “It was so epic.”

  “I know, right?” Reina agrees, chomping on her gum, something she does a lot and always drives me crazy. “This plan is so dope. I can’t believe you thought of it, Queeny. Seriously, you’re awesome.”

  “Why is it unbelievable that I thought of it?” Queeny questions in a tone that used to make me skitter like a squirrel, but now I just roll my eyes. “Are you questioning my intelligence? Maybe I should remind you of what happened to the last person who did that.”

  “No. That’s not what I was saying,” Reina squeaks. “I just meant that it was so cool you thought of the plan. I swear that’s all I meant.”

  “Sure you did,” Queeny snaps then laughs. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Like I really care if you think I’m smart.”

  Reina and Janie both let out forced laughs, but Queeny doesn’t join in, so their laughter quickly fades.

  “Seriously, though, having Knox yell at her was so epic,” Janie tells her over a locker banging shut. “Did you see her face?”

  “Yes, I did.” Queeny sounds very displeased. “It wasn’t what I hoped for, but it did give me an idea on how to destroy Asslynn Wynterland. A really, really good idea.”

  I don’t know what her good idea is, but her gleeful, villainy tone isn’t a good sign. I need to find out what she’s up to before she puts this good idea into motion.

  Instead of getting changed into my gym clothes, I hide out at the end of the lockers until everyone clears out of the locker room. Then I tiptoe out of my hiding spot and sneak up to Queeny’s gym locker.

  My gym teacher has a strict no phones policy, and the punishment for breaking the rule is spending the entire class running laps and sweating your ass cheeks off. Since Queeny hates getting sweaty, she puts her phone in her locker during class. A phone that contains every single text message she’s sent over the last month or so—she rarely deletes them. And one of those messages could clue me in to what she’s up to and maybe even who started this whole dramafest.

  I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing this before!

  I don’t know the combo to her locker, but I saw someone in a movie crack the code by twisting the lock and listening for clicks. I give a quick glance over my shoulder before putting my ear up to the lock. I twist right until I hear a click then do the same to the left. A smile creeps across my face as I rotate the lock back to the right and …

  Click.

  “Winner, winner, chicken dinner.” I do a little dance as I flip up the handle above the lock and open the locker. Then my smile twistedly grows.

  Sitti
ng on top of her neatly folded up dress is a glittering, diamond-encrusted phone. I snatch it up, punch in her passcode, and do a little happy dance that she hasn’t changed it.

  “What are you doing?”

  I spin around, clutching the phone, worry pounding through my body.

  Clarissa is standing behind me, sporting a pair of netted gym shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, and her expression is unreadable, which makes me even more uneasy.

  “What’re you doing in here?” I try to play it cool. “Hasn’t class started?”

  “Yeah, it has. I just came in here to grab something.” Her gaze drops to the phone in my hand. “What’re you doing?”

  “Um … getting dressed for class.” I turn back to the locker and pretend to search for my gym clothes. “But I can’t seem to find my shorts.”

  “Maybe because they’re in your locker, not Queeny’s,” she says with a drop of insinuation in her tone.

  “Oh, my Gosh, did I open the wrong locker?” I slant back and glance at the numbers on the front of the locker. “Whoopsie. I guess that’s what happens when I forget to drink my morning coffee.” I slowly start to close the locker, hoping she’ll leave before I completely close it so I won’t have to try to open it a second time. But her sneakers stay securely planted to the floor.

  “Ash, cut the crap. I know you’re holding Queeny’s phone.”

  Frowning, I face her. “Okay, maybe I am, but I have very good reason for having it.”

  Her brows elevate. “Really? Because usually when someone steals someone’s phone, it’s to snoop.”

  “Okay.” I pick at a diamond on the back of the phone, unsure how much to divulge. Sure, she hates Queeny, but she’s also not a huge fan of me, either. “Maybe I am snooping. But it’s for a good reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “Um, to look through her messages.”

  She raises her hand in front of her, palm up, and wiggles her fingers. “Come on, Ash; you’ve got to give me more than that. Otherwise, I’m going to report you.”