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“They’re like best friends, right?” I stop in front of my locker and start to spin the combination.
“No. They’re more than that,” she tells me. When she notices the confusion on my face, she adds, “It’s kind of hard to explain, but the three of them are like some sort of freaky, human wolf pack or something. When I first moved here, I thought they were brothers, but I quickly learned their relationship is tighter than that. They aren’t friends with anyone else, they never bring in outsiders, and they make no effort to associate with anyone, yet they always get invited to every party. It’s partially out of fear and partially because I think a lot of people are hoping they’ll be the lucky asshole who gets brought into their group.” She shakes her head with a disgusted look on her face. “I don’t know why they consider it lucky, though. They’re jerks. And crazy. And just …” She shakes her head again.
“Sounds like you got a beef with them,” I say as I pull open my locker.
She chews on her bottom lip. “Well, I hooked up with Hunter once. It was the biggest mistake of my life, something I realized right after, when he told me to take care and left me lying in bed naked. He didn’t even wait for me to get dressed before ditching me. And we were at his house, and he just took off, and …” She clears her throat. “Anyway, I should’ve known better, because that’s what Hunter does. He uses girls and everyone knows this, yet I somehow convinced myself that I’d be the one to change him.”
“I’m sorry … I can kind of see how you fell for him, though. He seems really …” I waver for the right word. “Charming.”
“You’ve talked to him?” she asks, and for the strangest second, I detect a hint of jealousy in her eyes.
I nod, my guard going up even more. If she is jealous, then that means she’s not over him, and I don’t need any jealous girl drama on top of the drama Dixie May is going to cause for me.
“Yeah, he was in the main office this morning when I picked up my schedule.” I choose my words carefully. “He just said hi, but I wasn’t really that interested in him.”
Her brows elevate. “Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“How? I mean, you did see him, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She gapes at me. “And you didn’t think he was hot?”
“No.” Not a total lie. Yeah, I thought he was pretty, but I’m not about to tell her that aloud.
She shakes her head, her jaw practically hanging to her knees. “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”
I bump my locker shut. “I think we already established that, didn’t we?”
Grinning, she points a finger at me. “You know what? I think you and I are going to be good friends.”
That’s the second time someone has said that to me today, but that doesn’t mean I’m hopeful. No, I’ve had friends before. However, they ended the moment my parents died. For anyone else who thought to be my friend, they quickly reconsidered after they found out the truth. And I know it’ll always be that way, because no one wants to be friends with a murderer.
Her lips part then close, her forehead creasing as she retrieves her phone from her pocket. She reads a message then curses. “Shit. I forgot I was supposed to meet the counselor at lunchtime.” She stuffs her phone into her pocket. “I gotta go, but if you want, you can sit by my friends at lunch. They sit at the table near the far back doors.” She backs away from me, moving down the hallway. “Most of them will have sketchbooks out, ’cause we’re all art nerds. But we’re cool. I promise.” She throws me a wave then spins around, her shoes squeaking against the linoleum as she hurries off.
Sighing, I wander down the hallway, trying to decide whether or not I want to endeavor to the cafeteria or just skip lunch and pick something up on the walk home waiting for me at the end of the day. Normally, I skip lunch, mostly because of an incident in seventh grade when I got a tray of spaghetti dumped onto my head, then everyone started cracking jokes about how I must’ve killed someone again, that the spaghetti sauce was really blood. After that, I made a point to bring my lunch and eat it in the bathroom. Then, eventually, I started walking to food places to get something to eat. But I don’t know my way around town yet, so I’m unsure if I have time to make it to any fast food places in time.
I could take up Katy’s offer and try to sit by her friends, but without her around, it just seems weird. And who knows if rumors have been spreading about me yet? I haven’t heard anything, so maybe Dixie May is waiting to spill the gossip about me. Why she’s waiting, I have no damn clue.
And what about this Zay guy? He warned me that he was going to show me my place in this town. Before, I wasn’t that worried, but after what Katy told me, I feel slightly apprehensive. I’d probably be scared shitless if I hadn’t spent the last six years of my life living in bullied hell every day.
Slut.
Freak.
Murderer.
Just as I’m about to arrive at the cafeteria, I receive a text message, which is weird. No one ever texts me. Like ever. Well, except for on the rare occurrence when my aunt notifies me of a chore that she wants me to do while she’s out. It’s really the only reason I have a phone. And it’s a really shitty phone. Like, I’m talking one that flips open.
I dig my phone out of my pocket, and my guard instantly goes up when I see Bitchy Bitch of the West has texted me. Aka, Dixie May.
Bitchy Bitch of the West: My mom says you have my makeup case. You better give it to me ASAP before I get pissed. And you better not touch any of my makeup. The last thing I want is to get like herpes or something from you.
I roll my eyes as I type back.
Me: Yes, I have it. And no, I didn’t touch it. I have no desire to look like Bobo the Clown on my first day of school.
