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Matt
“Mr. Nelson, if you’re late to my class again, don’t bother coming next time.” Professor Mills glares at me as I slide into an empty chair, his mustached lip curled in a sneer. I want to get back up and stalk out, just to make a point, but instead I say nothing and nod, wishing I could punch him in the face instead.
“Yeah, Mr. Nelson,” Bryce hisses under his breath. “Where the hell have you been, dude?”
“Hungover as shit,” I say, far too loudly, and Professor Mills glares at us. Bryce scoffs and leans back in his seat, focusing his attention back on the front, and I try to follow his lead. I can’t focus though, I can’t even pretend to. Because just like my two best friends, I’m sure, Rowan Bates is taking over every crevice of my brain. There is no functioning anymore, not while we’re all so crazy about the sassy redhead who wants nothing to do with us.
“There’s a party tonight,” Bryce whispers as Professor Mills turns his attention back to the white board. “Wanna go?”
“Is Rowan going?”
“Fuck if I know. I haven’t seen her since …” he stops speaking abruptly, then shrugs, and I know he’s hiding something.
“You’ve been with her, haven’t you?”
“Not like that,” Bryce mutters. “But I saw her, yes.”
“When?”
“None of your concern.” Bryce makes it a point to turn away from me and pretend to focus on whatever bullshit Professor Mills is spouting to his students. I nudge him in the arm, but he ignores me, and I know if I punch him out right here, I’d probably be suspended permanently. So instead, I wait for the end of class before following Bryce out of the building.
“We need to do something about her,” I say as Bryce and I walk. “Rowan, I mean.”
Bryce shrugs. “We could, I don’t know, leave her alone,” he suggests.
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “How’s that worked for you so far?”
On the football field near the quad, Dereck is out on the field, nearly done with football practice. Bryce and I look around for a shaded spot near the bleachers and sit down to wait for our friend to finish.
“So, the party,” Bryce says, nodding at me. “Are we going?”
“Sounds fucking lame.” I take a cigarette out of my back pocket and slip it between my lips. Some chick sitting near us glances at me and scowls, but I ignore her, and moments later the girl gets up and storms away, muttering under her breath. The cigarette still isn’t lit.
“It won’t be lame if Rowan’s there,” Bryce reminds me. When I don’t answer, he leans back a bit and shrugs, looking pensive. “Maybe I’ll just ask her to go tonight. You know, kind of as a date. What do you think about that?”
“I think if you keep talking I’m going to end up burying your body somewhere behind the house tonight.”
“Careful,” Bryce says. “I could be recording this entire conversation.”
I’m about to retaliate when someone shouts something in our direction. A moment later, a leather football nails Bryce between the eyes, and he careens backwards off of the bleachers, cursing as his glasses spill from his face and hit the grass a split second before he does.
“Sorry!” Dereck calls, jogging up to us just as Bryce is picking himself up off the ground. “I told you to catch it.”
“You said no such thing, dick.” Bryce gets to his feet, scowling at Dereck as he swipes up the rogue ball and chucks it at him with impressive force that shoves Dereck back a couple of steps.
“Damn, dude,” he says with a low whistle. “Why aren’t you on the team?”
“Please,” says Bryce. “Like I have nothing better to do than throw balls across a line and smack my teammates’ asses all day long.”
“That’s not how it works.” Dereck throws his hands up in the air in mock deceit. “That’s not how any of this works!”
“Shut up, both of you,” I snap, pulling my buzzing cell phone from my pocket. I glance at the screen. It’s a mass text, sent to dozens upon dozens of people I don’t even know. “It’s about the party.” I hand my phone to Dereck, who squints as he reads.
“Are we going?”
“I don’t give a shit what you two do, but I’d rather go home and fucking sleep,” I tell them. Dereck shrugs and hands the phone back to me, just as it buzzes again. This time, however, it’s someone we do know.
Hey, it’s Jamie, sry. Jason asked Rowan 2 the party 2night. I am worried about her.
