Page 13 of Dirty Liars
I make sure I ask in a nonchalant way, but I really want to know. “Victoria said this morning that Astor’s family founded the school. Is that true?”
If it is, then that means he’s going to have a lot more clout and popularity than any of the other boys, and I cringe to think that I blew my first meeting with him. He could really make it hard for me here if he wants to. I saw it with Thomas … and that was just the first day. I’ve already gotten a reputation for standing up for the school’s pariahs.
It’s not a way to make a good first impression with the person who’s responsible for making them pariahs in the first place.
“Yes, and because of it he seems to think it makes him totally immune to the rules here. Even basic human decency rules.” She goes back to picking at the last of her salad. “He’s the poster child for jerks, but Victoria really seems to like him. I don’t know what it is she sees in him. But then again … I don’t know what I thought she’d see in me.”
She mutters the last part to herself.
This strikes me more than it should. All my life, even before Ms. Martin, I’ve been told I would never amount to anything. I’ll wind up homeless and in the gutter. I don’t have a brain in my head. I’m nothing at all, and I’ll never be anything but nothing.
I know how it feels to have all the odds stacked against you.
Yet here I am. I’ll prove them wrong. And I’m starting with a whole lot less than Dana.
Against my better judgement, I reach across the table and rest a reassuring hand on hers.
“Victoria would be lucky to have you.”
Dana won’t do much to help me socially, but sometimes you can’t help who you end up being friends with. And just like Victoria would be lucky to have her, I think I am too.
CHAPTER6
It may still beearly September, but the breeze carries a chill across the lake.
This is the closest I’ve ever been to something even remotely similar to an ocean. I’ve never been lucky enough to be placed in a home near a body of water bigger than the local duck pond—also, simultaneously, usually the place where the local druggies go to score meth. Yeah … I’ve been some places. Just not the good ones.
The grass slopes gently down towards a rocky, curved beach. Far up to the north of us on a craggy outcrop is a worn white lighthouse only visible here from the shore. It’s a clear day, warm, sunny, and marked by the soft rhythmic lapping of silver water on the shore.
It’s almost enough to still the racing of my pulse.
The rest of my Phys Ed class is already gathered down by the boathouse. From the lazy way they’re all sprawling out on the beach, I realize most of them probably already know how to sail … or at least got to watch someone else firsthand. I don’t even know if I get seasick. I should have used the White account to buy some Dramamine.
Wills Stryker, the boy from math, is among the students waiting for class to start. He’s in his element here. Cocky. Self-assured. That insecure slump has been replaced with pin-straight posture and muscles coiled for action. The ‘new girl shine’ gets me some looks when I approach, but none strike me more than the way he looks at me.
Everyone else is so easy to read, but not him. He’s not letting out anything that’s going on behind that stare. He’d make a great poker partner.
I match his gaze for a few long moments and he doesn’t flinch or even blink. I don’t want to be the one to look away first, but eventually I have to. If that was some kind of competition, I just lost.
As soon as I break the connection, he lifts his chin and struts over to me with casual purpose. I cross my arms over my chest and look up at him again when he stops a couple of feet from me. He speaks, and his voice is deep and strong.
“New girl.”
I sigh quietly and tilt my head just a little, so he knows he’s trying my patience.
“I have a name,” I say indifferently. The other boys in the class step up behind him, watching him, listening to him, and I realize that I’m not just looking atanyjock. This is the top jock of the school. Great.
“You going out for any sports?” He asks it as a challenge, not a question.
I hadn’t given it any thought. I’ve never been one to go out for sports … or anything else extracurricular for that matter. Unless you count minor shoplifting from the local convenience store.
“Should I run it past you first if I do?” I smart off instinctively, and then realize that I’m trying to be Sadie White, not Teddy Price. It was such a Teddy thing to say, and I try to temper my tone a little for whatever comes next.
“Damn straight.” His tone is dripping with arrogance. “This lake … these fields … the courts … they’re my turf. This whole school is my turf. You better remember that.” He reaches a hand forward and flips my long, now bleached-straight hair toward my face. “Blondie.”
If I was still just Teddy, I’d punch him right now. I clench my fists and grit my teeth. It takes everything in me to channel my inner Sadie. What would Sadie say? She’d come back with something shallow and flippant. I can do that.
“Is that supposed to be an insult? You’re blonde too … genius.”
