Chapter 9

I don't even remember Miss Edwards or her assignment when, a few minutes later, once I've calmed down, I leave the classroom. In the empty hallway, I stop by the drink vending machine to buy myself a bottle of mineral water and soothe, at least a little, my dry throat, which still aches from the conversation with Carter Wright.

It's as if scratches from his icy voice and anger are still inside it, but no matter how much I drink, the water doesn't help, and I'll try to forget the rest.

 Looking around, I head toward the wing where the students' lockers line the walls in long rows. When I reach my locker by the alcove, I open it and put the textbooks I plan to take home into my backpack.

The marks Nicholas's fingers left on my skin are still itching too, and that is hard to ignore. I find a wet wipe and scrub them from my neck again and again, wishing those marks had never existed, but it isn't that simple.

I wish I could be home already and wash them off myself in the shower under hot streams of water. The way I washed off any of his touches before this.

Ohhh. I close the locker and lean my forehead against the door, painted in Ellison's yellow-and-green school colors. I stand like that, soaking in the chill of the metal, remembering Alex and wishing with all my heart that he were beside me now: the living, smiling boy I remember. That he would take my hand, or simply call out, "Lena!" His voice always made joy flutter in my chest.

I want so little, but even that wish is never meant to come true now.

Footsteps sound in the hallway behind me, and someone really does call my name:

"Lena?"

Chuck Forsey and Gregory Butler, my classmates and Alex's friends, appear from around the corner, walk past along the hall, and look surprised when they notice me:

"Aren't you going to the stadium? The whole school is already there! Hear that?" Chuck draws my attention to the distant sound of a man's voice, amplified by a microphone, drifting in through the half-open window. "Our principal is giving a speech! Looks like old Gibson decided to blow out his voice but make himself memorable. They say the mayor came to the school. Secretary Moran pulled it off. So the stadium should be fun!"

Plump Greg laughs too and lifts a clenched fist into the air.

"Exactly! Our guys finished last season like champions! I'm going to cheer them on! The Golden Eagles are champions! You'll see, this year they're really going to kick Lincoln High's ass and St. Patrick's too, and I'm going to be the dude who sees it with his own eyes! Come on, Lena!" he says to me. "Wright is being announced as captain today. I don't want to miss the big day!"

I do. Very much.

"Yeah, in a minute. I just need to grab something. You go ahead," I try to smile at the boys, "I'll catch up! I'll sit with the girls anyway!"

"Suit yourself," Greg shrugs, and Chuck immediately drags his friend away:

"Come on, Butler, or we'll be late! You took forever with the reagents as it is!"

"Easy for you to say. I can't stand chemistry!"

The boys leave, and I'm alone again. After locking my locker, I put on my backpack and, after a second of hesitation, follow them too. They're right. No matter how badly I want to go home right now, if I don't come to the stadium, everyone else will definitely notice. And if I call Mom and ask her to pick me up, she'll be seriously worried, and Mark will definitely find out. Then Nicholas will hear too.

No. I don't want Nick doubting whether I told him the truth about Carter Wright. It's none of his business.

"Lena! Hey, Lena, come sit with us!" Victoria shouts from the bleachers, noticing me from far away, and waves. "I saved you a seat!"

She's sitting in a circle of girls on the top row, looking at the field where Principal Gibson is introducing the mayor of Sandfield Rock to everyone, a gray-haired man who still looks fairly youthful. He praises Ellison High, shows off the work of an expensive dentist, and thanks everyone for the invitation, but the girls aren't listening to him. They whisper, toss their ponytails proudly, and giggle, glancing toward the senior boys. Right now, that is the only thing that can hold their attention.

Everyone is in an excellent mood, and it's probably to my advantage that no one cares what I look like after Law class.

My friend shifts over on the long bench, pats the seat with her palm, and I sit beside her, ending up between the girls. At once, in the general noise, I feel calmer.

The bleachers are almost packed with students and parents. Everyone wants to see the updated team roster and the new captain of the Golden Eagles, whom Coach Hurley will introduce to the school today. The collective excitement practically hangs in the air. Lacrosse matches are real events for our school, and that is exactly what Principal Gibson announces over the loudspeaker.

"You sure took your time, Lena!" Victoria twists at my side, glancing around. "Pilar said the new history teacher is a total Gorgon! And that she kept you and Carter in the classroom after class. Is she crazy?" Vic has very lively expressions, and she is genuinely amazed. "I hope my brother told her exactly what he thinks of her! Because he's already here, and you still weren't!"

I hate lying. I would rather say nothing, but that trick won't work with curious Victoria.

"Yes, Miss Edwards is a strict teacher," I say honestly. "She kept us to finish the assignment, but your brother finished faster than I did. So he left."

"Yeah, Carter is smart," the girl nods readily. "You should hear him do math! He doesn't need a calculator at all, and he remembers everything faster than anyone. Alex and I were always amazed! Oh, look," she points to the side, immediately forgetting about her brother, "Pilar is there with the girls! It's starting!"

The principal and the mayor move together toward the bleachers, and music begins playing over the stadium, quietly at first, then louder with every second. The girls on the cheer squad, in yellow-and-green uniforms, have already split into two groups, and at the command of their captain, Alicia Parks, Nicholas's current girlfriend, they run out onto the field. Falling into formation, they begin to dance, waving their pom-poms and loudly shouting a greeting to the Golden Eagles. The bleachers cheer them on as one.

When Mendez's curly ponytail bounces below, at the edge of the field, and a pleased Pilar, smiling broadly, performs the dance moves and a cartwheel, the general excitement finally catches me too, forcing me to forget what happened in the classroom.

I'm happy for my friend. She managed to fit into the team wonderfully; she had worried for nothing. I like cheerleading terribly too, and I probably would have dared to try that kind of athletic dance myself if I didn't like music even more.

"All together, say 'Golden Eagles'!"

"Everybody shout, 'Go!'"

"Faster, stronger, higher!"

"Victory is calling you!"

The girls finish the dance, shake their pom-poms, and scatter, and finally the boys in lacrosse uniforms come onto the field.