Page 18 of Dirty Liars
Well, aside from the necessary ones.
“You should really stop obsessing over her, Dana. As both of your friends … I can honestly say that I don’t think Victoria is ever going to notice you. Not so long as she’s only got eyes for Astor.”
“Astor,” Dana grumbles, then she laughs. “Astor is an ass. He really is.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter back. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t know if I’m getting bullied on a near daily basis … or if I’m just really, really unlucky. I mean …the showers can only go cold so many times when I’m the only one in there. Not to mention the whole new uniform I had to replace because justmylaundry somehow accidentally got mixed in with bleach.
Dana props herself up and leans her head into her palm as she regards me seriously. “Listen, I know the holy trinity has been giving you hell since you started, but I really think you should watch out for them. I don’t trust them at all. Not Astor, Wills, or Blair. They’re trouble, and not the good kind of trouble. You be careful around them.”
I tell her I already am, but then my thoughts go a little further than I want them to. It’s true that I don’t trust the ‘holy trinity’, but there’s something about each one that’s such a draw for me; something deep in me that’s like a gravitational pull. It’s probably some poorly-repressed need for acceptance thanks to my fucked-up childhood. I wish it wasn’t there, but it’s undeniable.
One of the many courtesies of being an outsider my whole life.
All I can do is push it down and ignore it, and hope that none of them senses it, because Dana is right. That’s trouble I don’t need. I’m still trying to fit in around here, and I’m being careful about every step I take. If I let anyone too close, even Dana, I risk letting out my secret.
We finally have to head off to class for English Lit. All the pine trees around here have made my allergies flare up again, so as soon as I set my books on my desk I have to dart to the back of the room to grab a tissue.
Before I can turn around I hear that soft, sensuous voice in my ear. It’s Blair, and as usual, he’s standing much too close to me.
“Hey, Bunny,” he murmurs, and I feel his strong chest against my shoulder. I lose my breath completely for a moment and when I try to breathe in again, his faint cologne teases my senses and I have trouble surfacing.
“What do you want, Blair?” I ask, trying to sound irritated. It’s the first time we’ve really spoken since that first day. I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding getting cornered by him, for just this reason. The moment he stands close to me, it’s like the rest of the world melts away. It’s just me and Blair.
“Mmmm … that’s a long, long list where you’re concerned. What if I start with something simple?” I hear the crooked smile in his voice rather than see it. “Come out with us tonight. We missed you last week. It’s Friday so we’re going to go have some fun. I want you there.”
Suddenly there are butterflies bouncing all over the walls of my stomach, and my heart begins to race in my chest so loud that I’m sure he can hear it. Part of me wants to say yes, and part of me wants to tell him hell no. I should know better. I should.
“I’m … busy tonight,” I say as nonchalantly as I can, hoping that he can’t hear my rapid breath.
“Blair Rashnikov, what are you doing in this room? You aren’t in this class,” our teacher, Mr. Davis, scolds him from the front of the room. We both turn to face Mr. Davis, and Blair wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“I was just coming to see a friend,” he answers with a naughty lilt. Then he turns and kisses my cheek softly, and I gasp as my eyes widen. Mr. Davis is furious.
“Mr. Rashnikov, we do not permit that kind of behavior in this school, and you know it. Detention, both of you, Monday.” The teacher’s stern expression hardens. “Now please leave, and I don’t want to see you in here again until you’re scheduled to be here.”
With a red face, I head to my desk and take my seat. I am equal parts mortified and enraged. Now I have detention because Blair decided to kiss my cheek, which he shouldn’t have done to begin with. Mr. Davis speaks out over the class as Astor, who is sitting immediately to my left, begins to snicker. I glance over at him and see that he’s laughing at me. Great. His friend gets me in trouble, and he thinks it’s funny.
Mr. Davis announces that our Shakespeare essays are due, and I dutifully open my folder only to see that it’s empty. I stare down in disbelief that quickly turns to horror. I wrote the essay. I spent the last two weeks working on that essay and now it’s not there. Panic floods through me and I can hear blood rushing in my ears.
“Lose something, Sadie?” Astor grins as he eyes me with a wicked glint in his eyes.
I turn to look at him and I realize what’s happened. Astor must have gotten into my folder and taken my paper while Blair was distracting me at the back of class.
I wait for Mr. Davis to start pulling up attendance on his computer to lean in to Astor.
“Give it back,” I demand. He only laughs at me and reaches into his own folder to pull his out and pass it forward.
“You’re going to have to take your work in this school seriously, Sadie, or you’re going to wind up asking people if they’d like fries with their meal.”
He laughs, and I want to punch him again, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m not about to make things worse by calling out Astor Hawthorne in front of the whole class.
Mr. Davis flips through the papers and then eyes me in concern. “Miss White, I don’t see your essay here. Do you have it?”
I didn’t expect to be the one called out in front of class, and I’m lost for words.
“I … I must have left it in my room. I’m sorry. I can turn it in on Monday.” My mind is blazing, and I think to myself that maybe I could rewrite it all tonight. I still have all my notes and my rough draft in my room where they can’t be stolen, thankfully. Hawthorne makes us hand-write all our papers because they think it helps decrease plagiarism but it also means I can’t just slip away and print another copy like I would have literally anywhere else.
Dana, who is sitting in front of me, turns in her chair and gives me a worried look. “Where is it? You worked so hard on that!”
