“Sure, Cyn. We hang in the courtyard during break,” Michael told me. He kissed Cyndra and grabbed her ass.
Cyndra walked away. She was moving fast, sending her red-gold hair swinging.
When we were near her classroom, she stopped and whirled. “You knew, didn’t you? I thought you didn’t suspect, but when you saw me shake my head, you knew.”
I shrugged.
“I would never have done that,” Cyndra said, and at first I thought she meant that she would never have played their stupid trick on me. “I would never have taken that.”
I felt my lip curl. “Well, I’m guessing a little girl like you doesn’t have to take much of anything.”
She moved closer, suddenly smiling all sweet and cute, like I was Michael instead of me. “Is that what you think?”
I took a step back. “It’s what I know, princess.”
She was smiling before I called her princess. When I finished, you could strike sparks off her eyes.
She stomped into class. I smiled at the way her hips whipped from side to side. She sat down near two preppy girls I’d seen hovering in the parking lot that morning. They cut me glances and whispered.
I leaned in through the open doorway. “Hey, Cyndra!” I called across the room.
The class went silent. Eyes shifted to me. Even the teacher stopped puttering at her desk.
“See you at break,” I said.
If looks could kill, I’d be in a drawer with a tag on my toe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Usually I’d meet Clay in the hall outside the lunchroom for break. I showed up in the courtyard instead, ignored Cyndra, and made sure Dwight saw me still carrying the Burger King cup. Let him think about the putrid contents and his lunch.
But break was a nonevent. I made listening noises, looked at people, and saw what you’d expect to see: posing and stupid pranks and a bunch of bored kids. Mostly I just stood near Michael and acted like it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be transported from nobody to inner-circle darling.
Some of the girls kept walking past. I didn’t mind watching them walk by, but didn’t think they were doing anything special until Cyndra cussed.
“Told you,” Michael said.
“Shut up.” Cyndra hit him lightly, like he was being funny.
“I give it three days. No, two days.” Michael glanced at me, as if expecting me to ask what the hell he was talking about.
The hip-shot parade went by again. My eyes followed.
Michael laughed, almost a high giggle. “Oh yeah. Two days for sure. Iceman.”
“Only if they can get past the lasers.” Cyndra widened her eyes at me. “But I guess that’s part of the allure.”
I was suddenly tired. I couldn’t wait for break to be over so I could go to shop class. Couldn’t wait to get my hands on a hammer and just start hitting things. I thought about getting up and walking away.
I thought of the coffee can and the pathetic roll of bills. A way out of this crap.
Took a deep breath.
“Michael,” Cyndra’s voice was deep, pitched to just above husky. “We’ve got to do something about his clothes.”
“Not necessary,” Michael replied.
“It’s part of the whole deal,” Cyndra said. “The look of it, right?”
I didn’t have to glance down to see why she disapproved. I usually wore a T-shirt, washed out at best or stained at worst, and some lousy cheap jeans. If it was cold, I’d wear a Goodwill army jacket.
I glanced around at the crisp shirts and label jeans. Cyndra was right. I fit in like snot on a tiara.
I took another slow breath and watched the parade go by again. This was the longest break in Mercer High’s history. I wondered if Clay was hanging out in the library.
“If you think it’s important, then you take care of it,” Michael said.
Cyndra clapped her hands lightly. “Perfect! We’ll go to the mall.”
I frowned at her. “I get paid for extra time.”
“What does that make you?” Cyndra asked. Like I was supposed to feel trashy or something.
“An employee.”
I reminded myself that I didn’t care what they thought. “Besides,” I added, “if you’re short of cash, make another bet. I’ll eat whatever crap you feed me.”
I stood up before the bell went off. Was down the hall before it stopped.
The hammer didn’t help. Not when it slammed the nail, not when I banged the joints of a drawer. Nails and boards don’t grunt when you hit them.
I asked Mr. Hernandez for a bathroom pass.
Inside the bathroom there were a couple of freshmen trying to plug up the sinks. My face must have shown how I felt, because they dashed out of there.
I flipped the switch off and leaned against the wall. My hands curled, waiting for someone to come in.
Usually I just like to get in a few hits—to feel a solid whump or even a glancing blow because you’ve misjudged in the dark. Usually it’s about blowing off some steam or taking something back.
Today it was those things and something more.
The door cracked open. It closed again immediately.
I pushed away from the wall and went back out into the hall.
A freshman was hotfooting it away from the bathrooms. He glanced around and got a little smile on his stupid face, like he’d been so smart. Like he’d made the right call.
Back in class I banged a few more things with the hammer. It was like there was a rumbling volcano in my chest.
Maybe I could get in a fight at lunch.
In Speech I put my head down on my desk. The coach who teaches it couldn’t care less about anyone sleeping.
I tried to figure out why I was so pissed off. This money would get us there. Then it was just a matter of hanging on to it until my birthday. Then poof. We’d be gone. And then there was the second part of The Plan—the one Janie didn’t know about. The part where she’s grown and I come back.
Live to fight another day.