Page 15 of Dirty Liars
“Press this against your head right here, and hold it tight,” he tells me, then repeats himself while demonstrating when I don’t do it right the first time. “Tighter!”
I do as he says, and then I look around. The boat is half submerged, and even Wills looks as if he’s given up.
“Can we fix this?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. We’re lucky it hasn’t sunk completely yet. We’re going to have to sit here and wait to be rescued. Nice job, Blondie.”
He goes to the furthest edge of the boat just a few feet away and squats with his back to me while he rummages in the remains of our emergency kit for a flare. I try not to stare, but I just can’t help it. He’s so incredibly built, and because he’s not looking at me, it gives me a sneaky chance to take in his amazingly sculpted physique.
I might not like him, but he’s definitely worth staring at when his back is turned. I blame the head injury.
Thankfully it isn’t long before the teacher arrives on another boat, and we clamber on. Wills’ wrath is nothing compared to his. He lets Wills have it, telling him that his parents will be billed for the damage and he can expect at least a week’s detention for leaving before the rest of the class.
I’m expecting similar treatment when he turns to me, but instead, the teacher just checks the cut on my forehead before pronouncing me fine. I guess being new has its perks, for once.
I go to sit beside Wills, not exactly to thank him, but maybe as a sort of apology for him taking all the blame. He just keeps those eyes of his trained on the boat sinking beneath the waves behind us.
Wills isn’t speaking to me or looking at me at all, he’s so mad. As I watch our sailboat finally sink down beneath the lake waters, I guess I can’t blame him.
As reckless as he was, I still feel guilty for not being able to help. He probably wouldn’t have sunk if he had an even somewhat reliable sailing partner.
Once we’re back on land, he starts to walk away without even so much as a glance toward me, but I run after him and grab him by the arm. He turns with a scowl at me.
“What?” he demands irritably.
I hand him his wadded up soaking and bloodied shirt. “I thought you might want your shirt back.”
He scoffs. “Not now. That was John Varvatos, too.” He shakes his head in total disgust. “What a waste.” He walks away and I wonder which he means. Me or the boat.
CHAPTER7
Victoria seesme in the hall as soon as I head back to the school and her mouth falls open in shock. I tried my best to dry off beforehand, but I’m guessing I still look like an absolute wreck.
There are two girls with her; each of them standing just behind her, like wingmen. She comes to me and picks tentatively at my wet hair and white blouse with her fingertips, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing or touching.
“What happened to you?”
“I went for a swim in the lake,” I say. My voice is the only thing dry about me.
“Oh my god … that rumor about you sinking a boat today is true?” She blinks and then laughs hollowly for a second. “Who would have thought?”
Great. It’s already going around the school. How many rumors can I get going about myself in one day, I wonder? Maybe I can set a Guinness Book World Record.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
She watches me interestedly for a moment, and then brightens and introduces me to her friends; Alisha Kane and Laura Brighton.
Alisha looks exactly like Malibu Barbie, and Laura looks like a brunette version of Alisha. Their vapid eyes tell me that there’s not a lot going on behind the designer makeup and fake eyelashes. That’s alright with me. It’s the smart ones you have to watch out for.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I offer them a polite smile.
The sinking boat escapade made me miss my next class, but Victoria is quick to fill me in as she hauls me back off across the quad to find a sunny spot to dry off in. At this point changing completely is pretty pointless. I’m just a bit damp now—nothing a little sunshine won’t fix.
We stop at a beautiful area with some flower beds in the corners, paths, grassy areas, and tall, old trees growing overhead. She passes a few empty benches and parks us on one at the far end of the quad where some other students are hanging out.
A few tables have been set up with sign-up sheets for clubs and sports. A decent number of students are milling around, laughing, and catching up about the goings-on of their summer holidays. There’s a general feeling of excitement, and it’s infectious.
I’m about to ask Victoria if there are any clubs she thinks I should join, when I catch her positively preening beside me. I try not to stare, but it’s so ridiculous it’s hard not to. If I did say something to her now, I doubt she’d listen.
