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The Dick: I just apologized. Wtf?
Me: I owe that to you for all this mess. You should’ve just believed my cousin.
I waited, holding my phone, but he didn’t respond.
The response came later that night after the guys were back from football practice. I was still at their house. My phone buzzed at the end of Captain America, our first movie.
The Dick: I’m not that bad of a guy.
I replied right away. I blamed my hormones.
Me: You’ve given me death stares since day one. Then you threatened me and my cousins.
Me: Credit to you for apologizing after I demanded one. Most assholes would try to blame me somehow.
The Dick: Again, I’m not that bad of a guy.
Me: Jury’s out. I only trust my cousins.
The Dick: Fair enough. How are the guys?
Me: Ask them.
The Dick: Jesus. Give me a break.
Me: Nothing came out today about Amalia, not that I heard.
The Dick: Yeah. Everyone’s worked up about the friendship split. Everyone’s blaming you.
Me: I should tell everyone it’s your fault, but right. The girl gets blamed.
The Dick: If anyone asks me, I’ll tell them it was my fault.
That made me pause.
Me: Why would you do that?
The Dick: The truth. Also aware you’re taking the brunt of some attention that might’ve gone Amalia’s way.
Me: What happened? Can I ask?
The Dick: We’re enemies who text. Not telling you.
I huffed, but that was fair.
Me: Is she a nice girl?
The Dick: Yeah. Sweet. Idolizes her brother.
Me: And you?
The Dick: I don’t know.
The Dick: That guy you mentioned before? He’s the one who held you down?
Oh man. I couldn’t breathe. But I typed back, my fingers feeling wooden.
Me: We’re still enemies who text. Not telling you.
The Dick: He the reason you moved here?
A fist squeezed my chest, taking hold of my organs. It was slowly circling, pulling everything tight with it, twisting it all up.
Me: Same answer, see above.
What am I doing?
My phone buzzed, but I didn’t look at it. We were starting The Winter Soldier, and I didn’t look at my phone for the rest of my night.
He was right. We were enemies. I needed to remember that.
14
RAMSAY
I was at my locker a week after I’d last texted Scout when Gem bounced up to me. Literally bounced up to me. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hands were holding on to her bag’s straps, and her hair was in pigtails. I had a total flashback to myself when I was six and got my first stuffed animal instead of a doll. I’d been so excited.
Gem huffed out, almost out of breath, “I figured out how you can make it up to me.”
I frowned, shutting my locker. “Make what up to you?”
“You going to Scout’s fight without me.”
“Gem,” I started because that wasn’t my fault.
She waved a hand in the air. “I get it. They said you were going for food, but you could’ve called when you got there. My cousin fights too. I know people who go to those fights. I could’ve got a ride.”
I opened my mouth, feeling like I needed to defend myself.
She kept on, “Anyway, you can totally make it up to me by . . . .” She pretended to do a drum roll, complete with sounds, and then she said, “By joining the Homecoming committee with me!” She finished with her hands doing a ta-da motion, sparkle fingers in the air, and her legs kicked out so her body formed an X. “How exciting is that?”
It was the end of the day. I had plans to find Clint and make him take me for snacks. I was in desperate need for some sugar.
“What?” I gutted out.
“Awesome!” She perked up, linking her elbow with mine, and she dragged me with her.
We went past Clint, who was standing with some other guys, and he started laughing at me.
Past Alex and Trenton, who were heading out for the after-school dinner before practice. They paused, saw me, frowned, and then started laughing.
I harrumphed, a sarcastic comment on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t get the chance. Gem was moving too fast.
And also past Scout and Cohen, who had locked not-happy gazes on me.
I gulped, but rethought that and glared instead. He was the enemy. Not Cohen because he was only being a ride or die, but also Cohen because I was a ride or die too.
She got me to the cafeteria before my wits got back to me, and I was starting to put the brakes on right as she whisked us in and announced, “Ramsay and I will help, Mrs. Charlotte.” Gem was back to beaming at the teacher who had a clipboard. She took one look at us, and said, “Lovely. Thank you, Gem and Ramsay.”
“I—” But she was already writing our names down and then I got the growl out, “What?”
Mrs. Charlotte smiled and motioned to the side. “Kira, welcome these two girls to the committee and help them get situated?”
