Hickville Confessions: A Hickville High Novel (18 page)

“But…”

Ah, here it comes. The excuse.

“Dr. O’Malley wants to meet with me late in the afternoon. I’m not sure I’ll be back in time for the first half.”

The second half is more than you’ve seen before.
“Okay. Is everything good with Mom?”

“I think so. He just wants to review her progress.” He stretched. “So, how’s school going?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“What about Ryan? How’s she healing?”

“Her face is still pretty messed up.” He tipped his chair on two legs. “She blew me off tonight.”

“What happened?”

“She said we have too much drama in our lives to be together. She wants space.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Sucks.”

His dad leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. “One thing I’ve learned through all this mess is that if you stand back and hope things will get better, they won’t. If you want her back, you can’t hope it’ll happen.”

“But if I try to get her back, I might lose her too.”

“But you might not—and at least you’ll have tried.” His dad stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah.” He stopped and turned toward Justin.

“Thanks for being there.”

His dad nodded. “It’s where I need to be.”

Justin dropped the chair back on four legs when his dad left the room. His words mixed with Ryan’s and swirled in his head.

Ryan was right. They’d met in the midst of drama and pretty much everything that had happened since had been riddled with it. His dad was right too. It was time to make a change. And he wasn’t going to sit back and wait until his family got their shit together. God knew if or when that would happen. He wasn’t going to wait until kids stopped writing crap on her locker—that had become routine.

Nope. He was going to prove to her they were more than two drama-ridden lost souls. He was going to show her that they could have fun, and at least for a while, forget the shit in their lives. And he was going to start tomorrow.

Ryan knew the moment she woke that the day was going to suck.

First, her face itched like crazy. It was all she could do to keep from clawing at her skin. She splashed water on it and leaned into the mirror. The swelling had disappeared, but she still looked like a freak. Swirls of tiny scabs covered her like a mask. She pressed her index finger into the lump that used to be the curve of her upper lip and tried to remember what she’d looked like before.

She raised the sleeves of her T-shirt and inspected her shoulders. She’d scratched the scabs from them days ago. Smooth tender skin remained—and so did a series of pink scars. She gripped the counter and tried to settle the anger that rose in her throat.

Why had it mattered so much to those girls that she’d had a past? Why had they taken their hatred to such an extreme?

“Hurry up, Ryan. I have to pee.” Kelsey pounded on the door.

Ryan opened the door and brushed past her sister. “Gawd, I hate sharing a bathroom. I hate living in this house. I hate this town.”

“Good morning to you too.” Kelsey stared at her as though she were an alien creature—but in all fairness, she looked like one.

She trudged downstairs for a cup of coffee. Her parents sat at the kitchen table, each reading a section of the paper. Ryan grabbed a mug and dropped into the chair across from her mom. “I’m never going to have my face back, am I?”

Her mom lowered her paper. “Dr. Cooper seems to think you’ll have very little scarring.”

She slammed the mug on the table, spilling the contents over the edge. “I want to have my lip fixed.”

“Of course. We’ve talked about the best time to have it done—”

“I don’t want to wait. This whole thing was not my fault. They ripped my face up and they get—what—freaking alternate school?” Her control was slipping, and with it her ability to keep her voice at a normal level. “I will live with this for the rest of my life.”

Her dad folded his section of the paper. “When is your next appointment with Dr. Cooper?”

Her mom answered, “Not for a couple of weeks.”

Not good enough. “Can’t you see if we can move it up?”

Her mom nodded. “I’ll call this morning.”

Moving the appointment up didn’t do a thing to ease the anger inside her. She’d had enough of “dealing” with what had happened to her, with these people. “I hate this town. I don’t want to go to school.”

Her mom covered her hand with hers. “What’s going on at school?”

Jeez, Mom, clueless much?
“Oh, nothing. I just get looks from everybody who sees me. Stuff has been written on my locker so many times it has a permanent smell of cheap lipstick.”

Her dad focused his attention on her. “What do you mean, written on your locker?”

“It’s no big deal. I don’t care. It’s just annoying.” She flicked her hand as if that would make it true. Day after day of seeing those words seeped into her bones. Slut. Whore. Scarface. Meatface. Bitch. Take your pick—they all hurt.

“We’ll put a stop to it.” Her dad stood with his hands on his hips. It was his
I’m in control
stance. “Does the principal know about this?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t make a bigger deal out of it than it is. It’s just kids being stupid.”

Mackenzie bounced into the kitchen. “Who’s being stupid?”

“Did you know Ryan’s locker is being vandalized?”

Mackenzie’s gaze went from her dad to Ryan, and Ryan felt the question in the look. She answered for her sister. “It’s pretty hard not to notice. Pretty much everybody knows it. Look, if I do anything, they’ll think they’ve gotten to me. I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”

“I think we need to pay another visit to Mrs. Johnson. This needs to be stopped.”

“Dad, let me deal with it. Please.”

Her mom looked at her dad. “She’s right, Tom. Let the kids handle this one.” To Ryan she said, “The minute she needs us to step in, she knows we’re here.”

That was the problem with being a big talker—now she was stuck with acting brave. She didn’t want to go to school, didn’t want to face whatever was waiting for her at locker two-thirty-two. But she would because if she didn’t, then they’d win. And no way was that gonna happen.

She pushed her chair away from the table. “I’d better get ready for school.”

The rest of the morning wasn’t any better. Her pixie haircut had grown to uneven lengths all over her head. She stood in the mirror for five minutes contemplating headband or no headband. On. Off. On. Off. When had she become so indecisive about clothes? That had always been Kelsey’s thing. “Screw it.” She settled the headband just above her bangs.

Kelsey scooted next to her at the sink. She loaded her toothbrush and looked at Ryan’s reflection. “That’s mine.” She ran the brush under the water and began to brush her teeth.

“So? You’re not wearing it.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Ryan rolled her eyes at her sister. “Your Highness Kelsey. Can I wear your headband?”

“Okay. Next time ask first.” White foam spilled down her chin and on to the counter.

“Gross.” Ryan scooted from the bathroom and down the stairs, and tried to tell herself that she could turn her foul mood around. The truth was, she couldn’t stomach one more day of plastering a stupid fake smile on her face and pretending everything was hunky-dory. Every day since Homecoming, she’d acted like she didn’t care that her face had been shredded. She’d ignored the notes dropped on her desk or shoved in her locker. She’d laughed at the words written across her locker.

Today, she just couldn’t get to that place.

She’d told Justin they had too much of their own baggage to handle each other’s. And that pissed her off too. She still meant it. As much as she liked Justin, as much as his smile made her insides tingle, their whole relationship was based on drama. She was sick to death of drama. It wasn’t fair. Neither of them had brought it upon themselves. They were simply victims of circumstance.

When Kelsey pulled into the parking lot, she saw Justin walking toward the building with his hands shoved in his letter jacket and his head down against the wind. A little place in her chest caught. He was alone. He needed friends. Friends who wouldn’t drag their problems into his. Caleb and Mickey came up from behind and flanked him, and the catch in her chest eased. Of course he had friends.

He’s lived here his whole life. He’s a varsity football player.

The selfish part of her was a little sad that he hadn’t fallen completely apart without her. What kind of person would wish that? Was she that kind of person? She wasn’t sure how she felt. Lonely. Heartbroken. Angry at everybody. Confused.

As soon as Kelsey put the truck in Park, Ryan jumped from the cab and slammed the door. She hurried toward him, but not enough to catch up. She wanted to call after him. She wanted him to need her. She didn’t want to need him. She couldn’t. That was a dangerous place. She’d already opened her heart too much to him.

As if he sensed her behind him, he turned toward her and stopped.

Her feet froze to the blacktop. Her heart pounded in her chest. If he came after her, would she be able to keep her
we need space
rule?

He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He had no expression. Just those dark eyes peeking from beneath the bangs, staring into hers. He took three full steps back, turned, and rejoined his friends.

She wanted to cry. She’d done this. It all started because she was pissed when he didn’t call, more pissed when he showed at the diner with other people. But it was true that the only thing they had in common was sorrow.

She was done with sorrow.

She took a deep breath and headed toward a door on the other end of the hall from the one Justin had entered.

She skipped her locker. It had remained word-free for two days, but for sure there would be something scrawled on it by this morning.
Slut, whore
, and
bitch
had been used. She wondered what they’d use next. She slumped into her desk.

A group of girls entered the room in one big clump. A couple of them were from the Purity Club. A note dropped on her desk. Half the time she didn’t bother to open them. Today she chose to unfold the triangle football. She spread the paper and read three words:
God is watching.
She laughed out loud at the irony. Instead of wadding it up and tossing it in the trash, she took it to the PC girl’s desk. She was blonde and wearing gold cross earrings—and she visibly recoiled as Ryan approached.

Ryan flattened the paper on the girl’s desk and leaned in close. “Look at me. Look at my face.” She grabbed the girl’s hand and forced her index finger into the lump that had once been the arch of her lip. “Feel what they did.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “Leave me alone.”

“What are you afraid of? What have I ever done to anybody?” She stood and looked around the room. Most of the class had entered and all eyes were on her. “I’ve never said a bad word about anybody. I’ve never touched a soul.” She turned back to PC girl. “Can you say the same? You think because you wear a cross and are a member of the Purity Club that you’re better than the rest of us? Read your own note.” She turned and took a step back to her desk. She wasn’t done. She faced the girl again. “And stop writing crap on my locker.”

“It’s not me,” the girl squeaked.

“Then tell whoever it is to stop it. The cheap lipstick stinks.” A couple of people laughed. The anger that boiled inside her eased. It felt good to stand up for herself. No, it felt better than good. It was freeing.

So this was the beginning of a new Ryan Quinn. This Ryan Quinn wasn’t going to take it anymore. She would not shrink from the girl who always
accidentally
rammed a shoulder into her in the hall. She would gather the nasty notes shoved in her locker and dump them in the principal’s lap. Besides, wasn’t it her job now to make sure this kind of crap didn’t continue?

When class ended she headed straight to her locker. Yep, this was a new day. A new her. When she got there, she saw a piece of red paper sticking out of the vent.

God, she was tired of this shit.

She dialed through the combination and pulled on the door. It was hung up and it took a second jerk to pop it open. When it did, paper cascaded onto the floor.

Not just paper. Red paper—cut in the shape of hearts. Big ones, little ones, and all sizes in between. A warm spot settled in the middle of her chest. Tears filled her eyes, but for once they were the good kind.

She dropped to her knees and gathered them up. They looked like something a first-grader would cut—all lopsided with ragged edges. She could see pencil marks where they had been cut outside the line. A visual of Justin cutting the hearts with a pair of safety scissors drifted through her mind. She stacked them as best as she could and shoved them into the front pocket of her backpack.

A heart larger than the others appeared in her field of vision. “You missed one.”

She looked up and there he was. One look and her heart pounded in her chest. God, he was beautiful. His hair had just enough curl to be messy and just enough mess to make her want to run her hands through it. She loved the way it fell across his forehead, giving his eyes that smoldering, sexy look—until he smiled and exposed those boyish dimples. Those dimples were in full force as he waited for a response.

She dropped her gaze to the hand that held the paper heart. She wanted to take that hand. She wanted to crawl into the embrace it offered. But she wouldn’t. She needed to stand on her own two feet. She took the heart and stood. “Thanks.”

He flattened his back against the locker next to hers. “So?”

“So.” They stared at each other and grinned. She could almost feel the air crackle between them. “You cut all those hearts.”

“That I did.”

“And stuffed them in my locker.”

“One by one. I slipped them through the vents.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“I was hoping for a payoff.”

“Oh? And that would be…?”

He dropped his gaze to the heart she held. “You haven’t read it.”

She turned the heart over and read the poem he’d written.

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

My heart would flutter

If you let me bowl with you.

Tonight. 6:30?

“You want to go bowling?”

He pushed off the locker and moved closer to her. “Something fun. No drama.”

“No drama? You’ve obviously never seen me bowl.” She pulled the book she needed from her locker.

“Come on, Ryan. Let’s have fun like normal people do.”

Oh, how she wanted that. But the tiny mirror that hung on the inside of her locker showed her why it couldn’t happen. For the most part, kids at school had gotten used to her face. But going to a crowded place like a bowling alley was a different story.

She closed her locker and leaned her forehead against the door. “I can’t.”

“Ryan, I’m really sorry about not calling you. It was stupid. Don’t let it screw us up.”

She felt his hands on her shoulders and blew out a deep breath. She turned and leaned her back flat against the locker. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then what?” His voice had a desperate tone that made her feel stupid for what she was going to say, but it was the truth—no matter how shallow it sounded.

“You are so sweet to see past this.” She pointed to her face. “I—I just can’t. School is one thing, a crowded bowling alley…” She looked at her feet. “Sometimes it’s all I can do to ignore the looks…”

The concern was replaced by a slow smile. “I don’t care what we do. I just want to spend time with you. It doesn’t matter if we bowl.”

She nodded but couldn’t quite make a smile form. She was ashamed that she wanted to hide away from everybody.

“What do you say? Can we do something tonight? Whatever you want.”

She knew exactly what she wanted to do. “Would you want to come over and just hang out by the pool? I’ll have to ask my parents, and the water is too cool to swim, but it’s nice to hang out.”

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

She fired a text to her mom. “Okay, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back.”