The Opposite of Ordinary, Page 8

  I take five measured breaths before being able to nod. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  His fingers tremble as his hands settle on my hips, steering me toward the passenger side of the car.

  “Dating them both, huh?” Queeny calls after me as I lower my head and slide into the torn leather seat of Clove’s car. “I guess screwing Zane turned you into a little skank.”

  My fingernails return to my palms, digging deep as Clove and Maxon get into the car with me.

  “Tune her out,” Maxon tells me, slamming the door shut after getting in. Then he slants forward and catches Clove’s eye. “Let’s roll up the windows and crank up the music.”

  Clove nods, revs up the engine, and cranks up the radio, smothering the sound of Queeny’s sneering. Then they roll up the windows, and Clove backs out of the parking lot and drives onto the street.

  None of us speak as we drive toward school with the music blasting and Maxon’s leg resting against mine. I don’t even know if he realizes how close he’s sitting, to the point where I can feel his body heat radiating off of him. Under normal circumstances, I’d be giddy over the fact that the guy I’ve been crushing on for years is touching me. But I’m too riled up to be giddy.

  I hate Queeny so badly in this moment I can barely think straight. All of this—the name calling, insulting my family, and slut shaming—over a stupid lie someone told about me. Just thinking about everything she said makes me rethink my decision not to hit her.

  “Ash, you did the right thing,” Maxon says suddenly. “And eventually, it’ll get easier.”

  I want to believe him. I really do. But I know Queeny better than he does. This isn’t going to get easier. Things are only going to get worse. And maybe not just for me.

  The realization hits me square in the chest.

  “I’m worried I might have dragged you guys into this mess,” I admit shamefully. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Clove and I can handle Queeny and her tantrums. We’ve been doing it for years,” Maxon assures me then hands me his slushy. “Now drink up; you’ll feel better.”

  “Why? Is this a magical, anger erasing slushy?” I ask, almost smiling.

  He nods, his cloudy eyes sparkling. “It actually is. That cashier back there was a witch, and I had her cast an anti-anger spell on it.”

  My smile slips through as I take a sip of the slushy, trying not to think about how his lips were wrapped around the piece of licorice.

  “Feeling better?” Maxon asks as I take another gulp.

  I nod. “A little bit.”

  He smiles genuinely at me, maybe for the first time since grade school, “See? What’d I tell you? Magic.”

  “Yep. I guess you’re right.” I don’t think it’s the magical slushy making me feel better, though. It’s the guy who gave it to me.

  Guilt knots in my belly. After everything I’ve done to him—stuff I’ve never apologized for—I don’t deserve his kindness.

  I could try to apologize. He deserves that much—deserves more—but then I’d have to openly admit all the terrible things I’ve done to him and his friends, some of which he doesn’t know about.

  Just do it, Ash. Do the right thing.

  Before I can arrive at a decision, Clove turns into the school parking lot and parks the car. “All right, who’s ready for another day of hell?” he jokes, rubbing his hands together.

  I start to laugh when my phone buzzes from inside my pocket. I don’t want to look, and if I was a stronger person, I wouldn’t. I’m not, and therefore, I read the incoming message.

  Queeny: Nice stunt you pulled at the gas station. I don’t even know why you’re mad at me. You’re the one who screwed up, but maybe I didn’t make that clear enough yesterday. You were always a slow learner. Guess I’ll just have to keep teaching you lessons until you get it through your head. XoXo

  I fold my fingers around my phone. Yep, Clove, another day of hell, indeed. And a hell I might deserve to live in for what I’ve done.

  Chapter Seven

  Maxon and Clove don’t say much as we part ways in the hallway to head to class. I try to convince myself that their rushed exits have to do with the bell ringing and not because they don’t want to be seen with me. Still, my insecurities creep up as I walk down the hallway alone, hugging my books to my chest and trying to ignore the gawking of almost every single person I cross paths with.

  “So, Ass, I heard you like to pee on girls’ cars when they date a guy you like.” Judd grins smugly at me as I pass by.

  His two doofus friends cackle with laughter and give him playful bro smacks on the arms.

  “Dude, wasn’t that video so gross?” doofus number one asks Judd. “Seriously, what kind of girl pees on the tire of a car?”

  My stomach knots with humiliation. Not only did Queeny tell everyone I peed on the tire of a girl’s car, but she showed them the video. People saw me like that.

  “A pretty freaky one,” Judd replies, grinning at me. “But hey, think about all the other stuff she’d be willing to do if she did that.”

  I try to bite back the words wanting to spew out of my mouth, but do a sucky job. “I was drunk, and I only did it because Queeny dared me to. Not because I was jealous.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” Judd’s lips tug into an arrogant grin as he pushes away from his locker. “I know all about what jealous girls do when they get upset.”

  “Are you talking about Clarissa?” doofus number two asks, and Judd nods. “Yeah, that bitch was straight up crazy. Remember when she broke into your house and burned your clothes?”

  “Of course I remember,” Judd bites out. “She nearly burnt my house down.”

  “You’re so full of shit, Judd,” I say, knowing there’s no way Clarissa would ever do something like that, jealous or not.

  “No, I’m not.” He strides toward me, getting in my face. “You can even ask my mom—she had to call the fire department.”

  “Seriously?” I ask, leaning back as I get a whiff of his rancid breath. “You want me to call your mom? What are we, in second grade?”

  His jaw twinges. “Do you have any idea how many valuable items were ruined in that fire? She even burned my new Rolex.”

  I press my hand to my chest and gasp sarcastically. “Oh, God, not the Rolex.”

  He scowls, backing away from me. “Whatever. I don’t need to prove anything to you. You’re nothing but a loser who pees on cars and screws around with your best friend’s boyfriends.”

  “Zane wasn’t her boyfriend,” I point out. “And it doesn’t even matter because I didn’t do anything with him.”

  “Sure you didn’t.” His eyes burn with a hatred I don’t understand. It’s not like I ever did anything to him. Well, except for aiding in the breaking up of him and Clarissa.

  Okay, maybe he does have a right to hate me, even if he’s a douchebag who easily gave in to Queeny’s tricks.

  “Although, I gotta say, Queeny should’ve seen it coming,” Judd says smugly. “From what I hear, you’ll spread your legs for anyone who asks.”

  My lips part in shock. “Who told you that?”

  His lips curl. “Who do you think?”

  I grind my teeth at the stupidity of my question. “Well, Queeny is lying. That’s not true at all. Not even close.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t Queeny.” He grins as I frown. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but there are a lot more people who hate you than you think.” He leans close to my face again. “And the people who hate you are untouchable.” He smirks one final time before striding down the hallway, laughing his ass off with his friends.

  My mind flies about a million miles a minute. Who else would spread rumors about me? Sadly, probably most of the school. Janie, Reina, and even Clarissa could’ve told him that. And what about Knox? Would he do something like that to me?

  A day ago, I would’ve said no. After seeing him at the gas station with Queeny, I wouldn’t be surprised if he became her new sidekick.

 
Chapter Eight

  The rest of the day doesn’t get any better, but I wasn’t expecting it to. What I wasn’t expecting was for Maxon, Clove, and all of the other science groupies to be MIA. They don’t show up in any of the classes we have together, I don’t spot them in the hallways between classes, and they’re not in Mr. Chester’s classroom during lunchtime. I spend those forty-five minutes alone, messing around with my tarot cards and rotting my teeth out with vending machine junk food. I consider asking Mr. Chester if he knows where the science team is, but then I decide it’s none of my business.

  They may have been kind to me this morning, but we’re not friends. And with the exception of Clove and maybe Maxon now—I’m still undecided if he was being nice to me because he felt sorry for me—their detest for me blazes like hellfire, scorching every inch of land to flakes of charred ember and singed dust. Yeah, okay, I may have spent a little too much time at lunch attempting poetry for an English assignment, but you get my point.

  Being the social outcast does give me a ton of free time, though, which I chose to spend attempting to get to the bottom of who started the rumor about me hooking up with Zane, and who told Judd I was an easy lay. The more I poke my nose around, the more my list of suspects grows.

  Jeez, a lot of people loathe me, I think to myself as I walk away from Tina and Beth and toward the back of Mr. Chester’s classroom. We used to chat every day before class, and while I found a lot of the conversations mind-numbingly dull, I tried to be nice and pay attention to what they said.

  Today, though, when I walk into science class, Tina and Beth stick their noses up so I high I can see their nose hairs.

  So gross.

  Sighing, I plop down on a barstool at an empty table and do my best to ignore the smirks and whispers thrown in my direction as I dig out a pen and my suspect list from my bag.

  Just suck it up, Ash. One more class to get through. Then you can go home and wallow in a tub of ice cream.

  “Mind if I sit here?” Clarissa materializes by my table with her books in her arms and a I-want-to-be-anywhere-but-here look on her face.

  “Um, sure.” I move my bag to the floor, hoping I don’t appear as baffled as I feel. But what in the crazy Banshees is happening right now? She wants to sit by me? Me, the girl who aided in the destruction of her relationship with her boyfriend?

  Wait. Did Clove put her up to this?

  She compresses her lips into a thin line as she takes a seat on the empty stool next to mine. Then she sets her books down, crosses her arms on top of the table, and lays her head down. “Man, I have a killer headache today,” she murmurs with her eyes shut.

  I’m not positive if she’s speaking to me or thinking aloud, but I decide to give chatting with her a try. You know, test the waters and see if she detests me as much as she should.

  “I have some painkillers in my bag,” I offer, setting my pen down on the table.

  Her eyes pop open, and she glowers at me. “Yeah, I think I’ll decline the offer. I mean, for all I know, you’ll try to slip me a roofie instead.”

  “Hey, I’ve never drugged anyone before,” I protest, pressing my hand over my stung heart. “I may have done a lot of shitty things, but never something that awful.”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t.” She raises her head and flips her hair over her shoulder. “But your boss would, and probably has.”

  My gaze zips over to Queeny who is sitting at the front of the classroom. I used to sit beside her, but now Knox is occupying the chair. Her hand is resting on his shoulder, and her deathly bitch glare is targeted on me.

  When our gazes crash, she bends forward and sucks on Knox’s neck like an overly hungry vampire.

  If only I were a vampire slayer with a stake in my hand and some killer ninja moves, I just might go up there and put an end to the neck suckage.

  Such a nice thought.

  “She’s not my boss.” I haul my gaze off Queeny and pick up my pen. “Not anymore, anyway.”

  Clarissa unzips her bag and rummages around for a pen. “Only because she fired you. If she hadn’t, you’d still be working for her.”

  I press the pen to my list, deliberating whether or not to jot down Clarissa’s name. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  She gives me a wry look. “Yeah, right. You never would’ve just quit.”

  I shrug, doodling a witch’s hat on the corner of the list. “Maybe you’re right. But I did consider it quite a bit over the last year.” I wonder if she’ll put two and two together and realize that what I did to her played a part in my deliberation of resigning. “I probably should’ve. I probably should’ve done a lot of things differently.” It’s not an apology by any means, but I fully plan on getting there one day. I need to come up with something better than a few half-ass sentences to make up for what I’ve done, though.

  She strangles the life out of the pen she’s holding. “I don’t know why you’d do that. You’re the perfect sidekick to the evil villain.”

  Ouch. That stings. But I deserve it.

  “That might’ve been true, but I don’t want it to be true anymore.”

  She laughs hollowly. “So, what you’re trying to say is, if she decides to take you back as her best friend, you won’t return to the dark side? I have a really hard time believing that.” She shoves up the sleeves of her maroon shirt as she glances around the room, noting everyone watching us. “People like you never change. It’s not even programmed into your evil, malicious brains.”

  Double ouch.

  Sure, I get why she’s treating me so horribly, but after leaving me that shirt the other day, I thought—or maybe hoped—she held a drop of sympathy in her heart. Apparently not.

  “Maybe you’re right, but I really hope you’re not.” I dig her shirt out of my bag. “I think this belongs to you, right?”

  “Yeah. So what?” She snatches the shirt from me and stuffs it into her bag.

  “Thanks for leaving it there for me,” I say quietly as the bell rings. “It saved me from walking home from school half-dressed.”

  “Don’t say thanks to me,” she whispers as Mr. Chester enters the room, announcing we’re going to have a pop quiz and that the questions are on the board. “Maxon’s the one who asked me to do it. If I had it my way, you would’ve walked home half-naked.”

  Maxon asked her to do it? Wow. Oh, wow. That guy is one step away from becoming my superhero.

  “If you do anything to hurt him, I’ll make sure you pay,” Clarissa hisses while writing down the questions on the board.

  Crap. Did I just say my thoughts aloud?

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him when you think no one’s looking,” she whispers with her eyes on the board.

  “No, I don’t.” I play stupid. Inside, my heart has turned into a cracked-out hummingbird.

  That makes two people who noticed your stalker tendencies, Ash. Just how many more know?

  “Don’t worry; he’s completely clueless about your pathetic little crush,” she continues, disregarding my denial. “And it’s for the better. Maxon’s a sweet guy. The last thing he needs is for you to bring a bunch of ugly drama into his life.”

  I open my mouth to put her in her place, but the look she gives me causes me to zip my lips. She’s waiting for me to act like Queeny’s sidekick. For me to bring out bitch Ash.

  Besides, what she said about Maxon … She’s right. He doesn’t need me bringing my crappiness into his life.

  I focus on the board and spend the rest of class working on the quiz, and then the assignment. When I finish a little bit early, I work on analyzing my list.

  At the top of the paper, I’ve written: List of suspects who told Queeny I made out with her crush and who have been telling people I’m an easy lay. Below the exaggeratedly long title is a very long list of names that basically consists of half the school.

  “You might want to add Queeny’s name to that,” Clarissa tells me so suddenly that I startle and fling my pen through the air. It sails forward
, pegging Tina in the back of the head.

  She reels around, her hand darting to her bleach blonde hair, her gaze skimming the classroom.

  “Who did that?” Her eyes zero in on me. “Ash, did you just throw something at me?”

  I appear taken aback. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re a freak.” She shoots me a haughty look, a move she never would’ve dared pull when I was besties with the she-devil.

  “Yeah, that makes sense.” My voice gushes sarcasm. “Because I bet all the freaks sit in class and throw stuff at the back of your head all day. If that were the case, your head would be one giant goose egg.” I angle my head to the side. “Although, that would explain a lot.”

  Clarissa starts to choke on a laugh, quickly biting down on her lip and redirecting her focus on the assignment.

  Tina’s eyes narrow into slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I shrug. “Maybe you should work on speaking freak. Then maybe you’ll figure it out.”

  “Ha, like I’m that stupid.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and elevates her chin. “No one chooses to be a freak. You become one when no one wants you.” She faces forward and giggles with Beth.

  Seconds later, the bell sounds and Mr. Chester dismisses class.

  “I wish they’d banish giggling from school,” Clarissa says as she gathers her stuff and stands. “The cheerleader, hyena laughing, anyway.” She starts to follow the rest of our classmates flocking toward the doorway, but then abruptly hits the brakes and turns back around. “And I meant what I said about adding Queeny to your little list. I wouldn’t put it past her to start a rumor about her own best friend.”

  I stand up from the stool and reach for my bag. “I don’t know … I mean, she’s done a lot of stuff, but why would she do that to me?”

  She tosses a glance toward the front of the classroom where Knox and Queeny are full-on making out. “Maybe because she wanted something you had. Wouldn’t be the first time she’s ruined a girl’s life to get a guy.”