Page 6 of Bent Heavens

Liv sighed. It wasn’t an indulging-Krista sigh. It was an extended, weary exhale, the sound of envisioning two more semesters of situations like this, every one of which forced her to keep a foot in a world she’d rather step beyond. Doug cutting power to the biology-class refrigerator to hide how bad he’d messed up his fetal pig, never thinking of the floor-wide stench that would result. Doug taking a dare to ride the bumper of a school bus, leading to stricter bus rules that pissed off everyone. And on and on.

Billy had taken a seat atop Jackson Stegmaier, pretending to ride a mechanical bull. Three cameras pressed inward. Some of these degenerates were whizzes at editing, and if they pooled their footage, the video could be split screen or multiple point of view, alternating between Doug’s face and Jackson’s face before cutting to the crowd-pleasing wide shot. It would be a smash hit, setting the bar for the whole semester, unless Liv did something.

She grabbed the closest boy’s shoulder.

“Hi, Liv!”

That’s what the boy said. It made her feel lousy about her risen social status over the past couple of years that anyone would think she had come here to enjoy the fun. She shoved the boy. He was too big to forcibly move, but the contact surprised him enough to withdraw. She swiped at the second boy’s phone, intending to knock it free, but although she struck it perfectly, the boy managed to keep hold of it. The third boy, witness to Liv’s onslaught, wisely evaded, tucking his phone into his pocket.

Three seconds had passed, and Liv now turned to deal with Billy, still astride Jackson. Infuriatingly, Billy laughed, seeming to enjoy making Liv use her full body weight to pull him off. Jackson, as seemed his lot in life, took the brunt of it, hitting the floor with one of his fragile shoulders and shrieking, then staggering away while clutching the shoulder. Billy fell straight onto Doug’s stomach, still laughing. When Liv snatched for his phone, he easily dodged.

“C’mon, Liv.” He fake pouted. “Don’t be a bitch about it.”

She kicked him in the shin. He chuckled through his pain, which drove her crazy. The other boys were retreating with their videos safely archived, less ashamed than they were aware that classes were about to begin. This event meant nothing to them; they’d already half forgotten it, as evidenced by their amiable farewells.

“Nice kick,” said the first of them.

“You’re on your period—we get it,” said the second.

“See you at lunch, Liv!” said the third.

Billy got up and danced away from Liv’s closing kicks, still laughing, and then it was just her and Doug, alone again at the scene of a crime. Billy’s fall had knocked the wind out of Doug, and he was gasping for air, but calmly. He’d been squashed plenty of times before. This wasn’t Liv’s first time, either; she crossed her arms and glared at him.

“What,” he panted, “is your”—gasp—“problem?”

“My problem?”

“We were just having fun.”

“No, they were having fun.”

“Whatever.”

“Did it look like Jackson was having fun?”

“Until you showed up.”

Doug winced and sat up. Sunflower seeds and pine nuts were everywhere.

“Oh no,” he said. “My gorp.”

He began sweeping food into his hand and funneling it back into the violated bag. He flushed a bit, perhaps realizing that if eating off the floor wasn’t humiliating, what was?

“Floor’s clean” was his excuse. “First day of school, everything’s clean.”

“It is the first day of school. That’s right. And already look at you.”

“I don’t need your advice. Go find your stupid friends.”

“You do need my advice. And my advice is to stop letting people do this to you! You do it willingly!”

“Oh, now you want to help. Yesterday, though, you barely wanted to check the traps. Probably thought it might mess up your nails.”

That one burned. Because the thought had, in fact, crossed her mind. In the past, the branches above Hangman’s Noose had scratched up her face, the gears of Neckbreaker had ripped out a lock of her hair, and, yes, the door of Hard Passage had broken one of her fingernails. Was it so horrible that she wanted to go to school not looking like a savage? She looked down. The knuckles of her right hand were scuffed, bleeding a little. The excited newness she’d felt upon entering the school had burned down to exhausted anguish.

“I know you think I ignore you here,” she said.

“You do.”