CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
January is usually a blah month, but this year it’s kind of magical. Shane and I have become a couple that people pay attention to. They yell, “Sup, Shage,” when we walk past; we’re a smush name now. Most days this strikes me as a good thing. I’m not sure why, but they’re not calling me Princess anymore, though I’m still writing pink Post-its in purple glitter pen, and I love that Shane’s not embarrassed by this. Sometimes he even points people out to me who could use some cheering up, a long way from the boy who wouldn’t look anyone in the eye at the beginning of the year.
I manage to bring my grade up to a B? in geometry and my aunt is delighted. She cooks Shane and me a special Italian feast to celebrate. If I read her right, she likes him a lot and no longer worries that we’re too attached. But I make sure we spend an equal amount of our time with Ryan and Lila, so they don’t feel left out. It’s cool that we’ve all gotten to be friends, and I’m not the only glue holding our group together.
*
At the end of January, we all eat lunch at Mel’s house because she’s been bothering her mom to have us over. In other words, I have a social life. It’s so weird.
We cruise toward Valentine’s Day, and I’ve almost forgotten that Dylan Smith exists. Until he reminds me. He must think he’s safe—that I probably won’t repeat what I know about his mom—and I catch him hassling Shane. It’s early, before most other students are around. Dylan and his crew have Shane hemmed in outside. Shane looks like he wants to start swinging, but there are too many, and I can see him reminding himself, No more trouble. His fists uncurl.
That’s more than I can take. I overlooked the thing with my bike, but this? No. I quietly go and get Mr. Johannes. “Some guys are bothering Shane outside. Do you mind? It’s really unfair, six on one.”
“No problem. I think I left something in my car anyway.” He winks.
From my vantage, I glimpse how the jocks spring away when Mr. Johannes steps outside, giving Shane the chance to slip into the building. When he sees me, he says, “You sent him?”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah. Better than a punch in the face. I don’t know what that guy’s damage is.”
I do. But this is a battle between Dylan and me. He might have lost interest in Shane if I hadn’t stood up for Lila. So I intend to enlist her aid in teaching the asshole a lesson. At our lockers, after Shane heads to his first class, I tell her what went down.
She’s scowling. “What is his problem?”
“You know one of them.”
That’s mean, I tell myself.
But Shadow Sage is stirring in her shallow grave, raking the earth and whispering in my ear. Since I’m holding a figurative sword over Dylan’s head, I have to decide what to do. I could retaliate for him picking on Shane, but I’m not ready to ruin so many other lives. Yet he shouldn’t get away with hurting people. Someone needs to show him how it feels. Only I don’t want to drag his mom into it, let alone the principal, his wife, and his kids.
Lila snickers. “I never knew you could be so bitchy.”
“It’s a closely guarded secret.”
Then she sighs, watching Dylan and crew sweep past. “I wish we could bring him down a peg or two.”
Tall and fit, dressed in jeans and letterman jackets, the jocks are untouchable because being good at sports makes them the next thing to royalty at this school. None of them got punished for underage drinking out the Barn, unlike the rest of the student body. I hate that they get away with everything. In particular, there are no consequences for Dylan. He flattens people like a steamroller but nobody ever brings the fight to him.
“Give him a taste of his own medicine, you mean?” An idea takes shape, though it’s absolutely the inverse of being the Post-it Princess.