His vicious expression falters, and all that’s left is surprise.
The guys around him roll their eyes and brush past him, but Patrick Thomas is left standing there in front of me all alone. And he’s completely disarmed.
He sputters, “Uh, f-fine.”
I grin. “Good to hear it.”
And for one brief moment, Patrick Thomas and I are just two human beings on God’s green earth sharing polite small talk. He’s not a monster and I’m not his prey. I think maybe Patrick Thomas sees that, too.
He pushes past me, and I turn to head to class.
I smile back at Callie again, but she closes her locker and speeds off to her next period.
Callie
Twenty
During my office-aide period on Thursday, Mama asks me to run around and pick up all her attendance sheets, since her normal aide is absent.
It used to be that a chance like this to freely roam the halls for an entire class period would be the perfect excuse to rendezvous with Bryce in a utility closet. But now it’s just like a torture parade around campus so that people can get a better look at the girl who trashed a local business and screamed like a banshee when her boyfriend tried to break up with her.
Yesterday I started my period three days early, so I sprinted out of class to the nearest bathroom. While I was in the stall, I watched through the cracks as two sophomores came in and hovered at the sinks, reapplying lip gloss.
“I saw Melissa posted Shamrock Camp sign-up sheets,” said the first one.
Shamrock Camp was always one of my favorite times of year. Two weeks every summer, and anyone could sign up. We’d have long eight-hour days of grueling workouts andtraining. At the end of the two weeks, we’d host tryouts. In reality, though, the tryouts started the first day of camp, and the actual tryout was just a formality. At camp, it only takes a few days for the herd to thin.
“She totally lucked into that captain spot for next year,” said the second one.
I nodded along. These girls may be sophomores, but they knew what they were talking about.
Through the cracks, I watched as the first girl scooted in closer to her friend. “Well, I heard Callie Reyes was high on pain pills when she trashed that gym. They were all just going to TP the place, but then she was on this, like, drug-induced warpath and no one could stop her.”
“That girl was serious goals.”
The first one shook her head. “If goals equal having a public meltdown.”
The two started to laugh but stopped abruptly when I flushed my toilet and yanked my shorts up before pushing my stall door open. I took my time washing my hands, and instead of reaching for a towel, I flicked the water off my hands in their general direction. “Boo,” I said.
Both girls skittered off, and the second one even shrieked, like I might turn into a pill-popping crazed cannibal.
After retrieving the last attendance sheet from the freshman hall, I turn the corner into the social studies hall to find Melissa and Sam huddled together, with Jill at the other end of the hall, hanging up posters.
“Hey,” I say. The word falls flat on the ground like asingle forgotten penny. My eyes meet Melissa’s, and all I can think of is that middle-of-the-night phone call when she answered Sam’s cell. The two of them have treated me like the plague since I took the fall for the team, but this is the first time that there’s no noisy hallway to hide behind. This time, if they want to ignore me, they’ll have to do it to my face.
“Oh, hey, Callie,” Sam says. “How have you been?” she asks sympathetically.
I don’t take kindly to pity, but it feels nice that for the first time, someone is actually acknowledging how awful this is for me.
“Fine,” I say.
Melissa stands with her arms crossed just a foot behind Sam. I sneer at her, but she doesn’t budge.
Sam reaches out and takes my hand. “We just want you to take care of you,” she says. “That’s all that matters right now.”
My brow creases. Take care of me? “I’m good,” I say. “Great, even. Just sort of hoping there’s some way we can get me back on the team next year. I mean, all this will blow over soon enough.” I just need some other big drama to come along, and then I’ll be old news.
She glances over her shoulder. Jill’s looking at the freaking roll of tape like it’s chemistry.
