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“I will crush you, Ridley! You were a nobody at this school before the squad and I can make sure that you are a nobody again. I’ll burn you to the ground,” she threatened, nearly shaking in her anger.
“Do it, Trinity. I don’t care. It’s not worth it anymore. I’m not like you,” I said, feeling courage and momentum build. “I’m not like any of you. And I’m sick of pretending that I am. I already hate to look at myself in the mirror and I refuse to stand by and let you tear one more decent person to shreds. No more!”
“You know this is war, right Ridley? Are you sure you want to take me on?” Her voice was so low, I had to strain to hear her.
For one uncertain breath, the seriousness, the viciousness, in her eyes gave me pause. She was right: it was exactly like declaring war, but I’d come too far to stop now.
“Bring it,” I finally said, equally quiet and serious.
“Fine,” she said, taking a step back. “I’ll bury you both. Together.” Trinity gave first Savannah then me one more withering look before glancing back at Summer. “Come on, Summer,” she said, turning on her heel and stomping back across the lawn toward the table of stricken onlookers that I used to call my friends.
At Trinity’s sharp command, Summer jumped. She looked at me, indecision crossing her face for an instant before she shrugged and turned to follow Trinity. Silently, but very clearly, Summer had made her choice.
I watched them go, still a bit flabbergasted by what had happened, by what I’d done. When they were both seated once more at the table on the patio, I looked down at Savannah and said the only thing I could say. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, her eyes big and round. Inanely, I realized that, just as I’d suspected, Savannah’s eyes are a soft, chocolately brown.
Without another word, I turned and walked away. By sheer force of will, I didn’t look back at Bo. A couple of times, as I made my way to the closest school doors, I thought I could actually feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t give in to the urge to confirm it. Once I reached the building, I disappeared inside its walls, wishing that I could disappear altogether.
For the rest of the day, as I walked the halls and entered my classes, I saw people stop and stare and whisper. I knew what they were thinking, what they were talking about: my social suicide. That was all it meant to them. It was nothing more than the equivalent of opting out of a popular club. To me, however, my actions had much more significant consequences, ripples that I could see washing away bits and pieces of my future.
All day, I watched the clock anxiously. I wanted the day to be over, but I was also curious to see Bo in Chemistry, to see what his reaction would be to what happened.
When the bell rang to let out fifth period, I dashed out the door and down the hall to get to Mr. Dole’s class. Despite all the other turmoil in my life, just the thought of seeing Bo made me achy all over and as jittery as a caffeine junkie. I thought it was funny that, of all the classes Bo and I could’ve shared, we were in Chemistry together. There was no doubt we had plenty of that.
When I reached the door to the Mr. Dole’s classroom, I stopped to smooth my hair. I’d left it long and loose today, flowing down my back. Nervous and excited, I turned to walk through the door.
I couldn’t help but feel crestfallen when I didn’t see Bo’s bag on his table. It would’ve been nice if he’d hurried as I had, anxious to see me, too. But then I reminded myself that it was still really early. Maybe his class had run over a minute or two or he’d been waylaid in the hall.
I took my seat and surreptitiously watched the door. Kids started dribbling in and, little by little, the seats started filling up, but still there was no sign of Bo. I kept my hopes up by making plausible excuses for his tardiness, but when Mr. Dole arrived and began the lesson, I had to admit with crushing disappointment that he wasn’t coming. One of Mr. Dole’s rules was that, once his lecture had begun, there were to be no interruptions. He closed his door and didn’t open it again until the bell rang. Period.
Just as I’d completely given up hope, the door creaked and Bo slipped in, muttering an apology to Mr. Dole, who merely gave him a deep frown and kept right on teaching.
As Bo took his dangerous front row seat, he winked at me. Warmth flooded my body and I decided that my all-day agony was totally worth that one small gesture.
For the rest of the period, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Hungrily, I watched his every move, every gesture, as if they were what was keeping me alive, like the blood flowing through my veins. I cursed Mr. Dole’s lesson plan, wishing that today was a lab day. I’d gladly have partnered with Bo to fire up the Bunsen burner, but instead, I had to be content with just watching him.
About five minutes before class was over, I heard a faint buzzing sound. Bo quickly reached into his pocket and glanced down at his phone, careful to keep it from Mr. Dole’s eagle eye.
Sliding the phone back in his pocket, Bo gathered up his things and slipped out of his seat and out the door. Once again, Mr. Dole just frowned at him. I wondered vaguely if he was under Bo’s spell, too. He sure wasn’t acting like himself today.
I was a little deflated that I hadn’t gotten to talk to Bo, so between that and the hoopla I expected from the other cheerleaders at practice, I was pretty cranky by the time I got to the field.
I half expected there to be a coup, one where Trinity usurped my position as Captain and then summarily dismissed me from the squad. But if that was to happen, it wasn’t going to be today. Trinity didn’t even show up for the camp, which didn’t disappoint me one bit. I’d done enough emotional spewing for one day and I still had Drew to deal with.
Ugh, I thought, filling with dread at the reminder of what was yet to come.
When the camp was over and all the junior high cheerleaders had left along with most of our squad, I started packing up all the equipment and mentally preparing myself for what I had to say to Drew. The trouble was, I’d start thinking about Drew and, within a minute or two, I would find my thoughts had wandered back to Bo again.
“Are you alright, Ridley?”
It was Summer. She had her duffel slung over her shoulder and was apparently ready to go.
