Ha, take that, snotty one.
Ryder positions his body so his back is to Jenny, and grabs my cell from my hand. He types away, then hands it back to me with a smile.
“I programmed my number. Call or text if you need anything. Anything.” He smiles again, and I melt.
I can’t see around Ryder, but I can hear the clip-clop of Jenny’s high heeled shoes storming into class. Score one for Team Felicia.
“Sorry about her. We’ve always kind of been frenemies, but things have gotten a little weirder lately…”
“No need to explain anything. I’m happy to help.” He opens the door to bio for me. For some strange reason, I can’t find a reason to complain, though I’m usually all independent and everything. “Use that number. I’ll be waiting.”
I manage to slink by him and make it to my seat without having my weakened knees give out on me. I grab my book and notebook out of my backpack, and when I glance up I half expect Ryder to be standing at the windowed door, staring at me, but he’s gone.
After class, I open my locker and am greeted by a note saying, “Hope you’re feeling better. Love, Me.”
The note is accompanied by my favorite mango juice and a chocolate chip cookie. Have I mentioned that Corey is the sweetest guy in the world?
For some reason, his thoughtfulness makes me feel like a jerk.
Chapter Six
Stepping out of school after last period is the highlight of my day. I breathe deeply, reveling in the fall atmosphere. Leaves are changing color, ready to put the trees to sleep for the winter. That’s how I’ve always thought of the changing of the seasons. The leaves make a blanket for the roots of the tree, and the trees settle in for a snooze.
I’m changing my colors, too. Something has been off with me, and I don’t think it’s just hormones. I know some of my behaviors can be explained by my period, but I have this feeling in my gut that something else is happening to me.
I smile as one shy raindrop hits my hand. I pick up my pace when another hits. If I’m not careful, I’ll be stuck in a downpour, so I might as well hurry home.
As I’m ready to cross the street, a motorcycle screeches to a stop at the curb. I stumble a little when I get a look at the scruffy face and the piercing green eyes, all too familiar. The strawberry shake guy from The Shack. I don’t know how I managed to forget how attractive he is, but he kinda makes Ryder seem a bit drab.
“Where you goin’ so fast? Felicia, right?”
“Home. Can I help you with something?” My voice squeaks, but at least words come out.
“Hop on. I know it sucks to ride in the rain, but you’ll get home faster.” His eyes plead with me, like I’d be doing him the favor.
I’m starting to think someone is playing a very big trick on me.
“Thanks, but my mom would kill me if I got on a motorcycle.” I walk faster, and he moves his bike forward, keeping pace with me.
“Don’t worry, she doesn’t have to know. I can drop you off at the house next to yours.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands alert. This boy has danger written all over him, and I don’t think it’s just the leather jacket and tight black jeans. All my parent’s “stranger danger” warnings flood my brain. I tighten my grasp on my cell, ready to call for help if needed.
His interest in me isn’t just a compliment; it’s a bit scary, too.
“It’s okay, really. I actually enjoy the rain. Might as well get my exercise in before winter hits.” I smile, but my face feels tense. “See ya!”
Just as I think I’m going to escape, a shiny red Mustang pulls up. Before I even have time to process who’s approaching, Ryder jumps out, glaring at Zane, and I wonder why he’s so hostile. Zane leans back, looking more relaxed than he did a moment ago.
I almost scream when Ryder grabs my elbow, leading me to the passenger side of his car.
“What are you doing?” I demand through clenched teeth.
“Taking you home.”
“I’m fine walking. Let go of me.”
He stops, and puts both hands on my arms, forcing me to look up at him. The now drizzling rain drips down his forehead, slides off his nose and onto his lips. I watch every drop.
I can feel the other guy staring. I can also feel my body reacting positively to Ryder. Did I say Zane makes Ryder seem drab? I was wrong.
“Felicia, you were already sick today, there’s no need to push yourself.” He takes a deep breath. “Go ahead and call your mother to let her know I’m driving you home, if it makes you feel better. You can even give her my license plate number.” His eyes sparkle a little when he says this, as if amused by some private joke.
I want to kick him in the shin, but I resist the urge. I glance at the groups of teens walking by us, wrapped up in their own drama and conversation, and decide I’m probably safer letting Ryder take me home since no one nearby would notice if something bad happened. I can’t explain why, but my gut reaction is to trust Ryder over Zane, even though Zane’s words about Ryder being a psycho are on autoplay in my head.
“Fine. But don’t think you’re going to get in the habit of telling me what to do.”
Ryder opens the door for me, and hot guy number two takes off without a word, using his rear tire to shoot puddle water directly at Ryder. Somehow he manages to miss me, and I wonder if that was intentional or not.
We pull up in front of my house, and I’m grateful for the reprieve from the tense, silent ride. By now it’s pouring, so I shout “Good bye” as I slam the car door and bolt toward my house. I don’t know how, but Ryder is right behind me when I reach the porch.
“Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow.” I open the door, expecting Ryder to take off. I did not invite him to come over. I want to get into dry clothes, do my homework, and finish my grant stuff. And sleep. I need a lot of sleep after today.
When I open the door, my lovely mother is standing in the entrance, wearing a party hat and blowing a noise maker, the kind usually reserved for drunken New Year celebrations and annoying kid parties. To my mortification, she’s holding a homemade banner. It says, “Welcome to Womanhood.”
Someone shoot me now. Please.
My body is on fire, and not in a good way. I close my eyes and breathe deep, wishing I could push past her and erase this entire day from my memory. And everyone else’s memories, too.
To his credit, Ryder pretends he doesn’t notice. He introduces himself to my mom, says he’ll see me in school tomorrow, then leaves. I can’t look at him, and I’ll never be able to face him tomorrow in school. I’ve decided to run away and join a convent somewhere. Where they have no visiting hours.
I’ll say I’m an orphan.
Mom pulls me out of my daydream by grabbing my hand and leading me to the kitchen. Standing around the table are my two aunts and my three female cousins. Aunt Sue is holding a cake.
My mother is the strangest creature on this planet. She feels the need to celebrate every excruciating detail of my life. This is one I would have preferred to skip over.
I plaster on a smile for their sake, though. Everyone is so enthusiastic, it kind of makes me want to rip my eyeballs out. But I figure the sooner I get it over with, the sooner I can retreat.
The doorbell rings, and my mom rushes to answer it. I stare blankly as Jade and Corey stroll in.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I called your friends to join us. I know this is normally a celebration for women only, but we all know Corey is like one of the girls.”
Mom laughs, but I see a glimmer of hurt in Corey’s eyes before he recovers and smiles for me.
I need to figure out a way to stop this carefully planned life of mine from unraveling.
Chapter Seven
I didn’t sleep at all last night. How could I, with anticipation about today’s interview haunting me? I don’t feel at all prepared, despite the hours I’ve spent with this project. Part of me is happy to get it over with, while another part of me needs a few more months to g
et ready.
I go over my mental checklist while I wash my hair in the shower. Mission Statement? Check. Advisor? I haven’t heard back from Mr. Shaw, but I’ll get to school early and check in with him before homeroom. I do have a back up, Mrs. Palsy, but she’s a bit flaky and has a tendency to be somewhat controlling at times, so she’s not my first choice. Agenda? Check. Website? Almost. Population Served? Check.
I take a deep breath and count backwards from fifty. This soothes my nerves a bit, but I still have raging, kamikaze butterflies in my belly. I guess they’ll remain until after the interview, after the finalists are announced.
Please let me be one of the finalists!
I know it’s kind of lame, but this organization means so much to me. The kids I’ve been mentoring are so full of zest, so spirited, so alive. They were dealt crappy cards from life’s deck, but they are resilient. They have hopes and dreams, and need supportive people around them to let them know that anything is possible, that we have their backs.
With the grant, I could expand. Right now I mentor four kids from town, mostly by accident. If, ahem, when I get the grant (I’m trying to use positive thinking), I can expand to include several more kids, and make the organization more than just a playgroup. I can bring other teens into our mentoring loop, giving the kids the opportunity to see what life could be like, and giving the volunteers the chance to be part of something bigger than what data plan they have.
The owner of The Shack is totally on board for letting us use his building for the organization. His son died when he was seventeen after a tragic football accident, so Sean has a special connection with us teens. He lets the kids spend a ton of time at The Shack, even though they can’t afford to buy anything, but it would be better for his business if we could fix up the back storage room as a hangout. We’d be able to welcome more kids in, and have positive experiences for everyone.
I was abandoned, but I got lucky. Even though my parents aren’t perfect, they love me and always have. These kids haven’t been so lucky.
My mom calls up the stairs to me in her sing-song morning voice. I double-check myself in the mirror—this is the one day I am completely conscientious about my appearance.
Grabbing my bag, I skip down the stairs. The rest of the morning is a blur.
When the lunch bell rings, my stomach tightens. I am so not hungry. I feel like if I eat, I’m likely to vomit. Then again, if I don’t eat, my blood sugar will be all wonky, so I wonder what’s worse.
Why would they schedule appointments right after lunch?
I meet up with Jade and Corey outside the lunchroom. They are my little pep squad, trying to build my confidence and showing tremendous enthusiasm.
While Corey and Jade get their lunch, I grab a banana and a milk, along with a small package of saltines. Better than nothing, right?
We head to our table. As we walk by the group of “popular” (for no good reason, since as a group they are pretty jerky) kids, the group bursts into laughter. I tighten my grip on my mostly empty tray and try to keep walking.
“Hey, kid. Did you change her tampon for her, too?”
“Awkward.” Corey mumbles under his breath. He keeps walking, his head down.
“Bet that’s as close as you’ve ever come to a pussy, huh?”
“Oh come on, he’s a computer nerd. I’m sure he has tons of porn on that hard drive of his.”
“Yeah, but is it girl parts, or dick?”
How dare they humiliate him like that? I don’t care what they want to say about me, but Corey is the nicest person you would ever meet in your lifetime, and these morons should learn a thing or two from him.
Rage consumes me. My head fills with excruciating pain, like something is ripping through my scalp, successfully this time. Tears pour from my eyes, but I can only see red. I vaguely wonder if I’m leaking blood from my eyes, but I don’t even care. I throw my tray in anger, the unopened milk carton bursting and splattering all over the expensive jeans of one of the girls I’m furious with. Corey and Jade each grab one of my arms, trying to pull me back, but I let out this god awful screech, and with strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pull so hard I send my good friends sprawling.
I jump on the table, feeding off the frightened looks of the menaces before me. Nasty. Uncaring. Unfair. Bullies.
I want to rip their hair out. I want to torment them with my face. I want them to feel the fury. I want them to never treat another person the way they just treated Corey, the way they treat people on a daily basis. I want their reign in the court of high school to be over.
I want their blood.
The room starts spinning. Faces blend together, until the only one I can see is Zane. He’s standing nearby, leaning against the cafeteria wall. One hand is tucked casually in the pocket of his jeans, while his other hand holds a cup of coffee, which he sips casually. He has one eyebrow raised, looking at me with bemusement. He seems to be egging me on, encouraging me to dole out this punishment.
I shriek again, louder this time, right in the face of Jake Scott, the jerk who started this whole thing. I see him clearly, though he’s taken on a red hue, like everything else. He closes his eyes and covers his ears, and I hope he’s pissing his pants.
Just as my satisfaction builds, the world spins out of control. I can’t see anyone any longer.
And then the world goes black. I’m drained.
Chapter Eight
Déjà vu.
When I open my eyes, I’m in the nurse’s office. Again.
I look down to see if I’ve leaked, but no signs of period trauma appear.
“Felicia, thank God you’re okay. I was so worried about you! You passed out when we were walking to our table. Luckily Ryder showed up right when you were falling. He caught you and brought you here.” Jade pauses to take a breath. I rub my head. I passed out? “He’s in the hall waiting. Want me to see if Mrs. Smith will let him come in?”
“No!” I object too quickly, but the last thing I need right now is Mr. Hot Stuff messing with my head. I have to figure out what happened, because what Jade’s telling me isn’t quite fitting with my recollection.
My hand goes to the top of my head, where something emerged from my head in the cafeteria. I know it sounds crazy, but when I was so angry, before passing out, I could hear hissing, feel writhing. On my head.
My hair feels normal.
“No worries, I have a brush. You got a little messed up in the fall and carrying sequence.” Jade laughs, sounding kind of nervous.
“Do I have blood on my face?”
“No, silly. You didn’t hit your face. You did spill some soda on you, maybe that’s what you feel.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But I didn’t have soda. I don’t even drink soda.
I can’t think of a reason why Jade would lie to me about any of this, and I can’t think of an explanation as to how I would have snakes coming out of my head, so I chalk it all up to passing out and having a really weird dream.
“Jade, did anything strange happen before I passed out?”
She purses her lips and scrunches her forehead.
“Not really. I mean, you got really ticked at Jake and his crew for being mean to Corey. You started yelling at them, then zonked right out.” She pauses. “I think you scared them. They aren’t used to you being loud about anything.”
Strong memories come back to me. Me pulling away from my friends, sending them sprawling. Jumping on the table. Screaming in the faces of Corey’s tormentors. The memories feel so real. How could I have dreamed them?
Mrs. Smith comes in, yanking me from my reverie.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” She goes through a checklist of symptoms, none of which I have at the moment, so she gives me clearance to leave the nurse’s office as soon as I’m feeling ready.
“I’ve already called your mom. She’s concerned, especially since this is the second day you’ve lost consciousness. She’ll schedule an appointment with a neurologist to be s
ure everything is okay. Most likely it’s related to the onset of menstruation, but it’s always a good idea to check these things out.”
I so don’t have time for this.
“Wait, what time is it?” My heart races. Could I have missed my appointment?
“No worries, Felicia. You have plenty of time.” Jade digs through her pocketbook, pulling out a hand mirror and her makeup. “Here, fix your eyes.”
I make myself look presentable—barely—and tell myself I’m not going crazy.
As I’m rushing out the door, I bump into Corey in the entranceway. I smile at him, and he hands me a flower.
“For good luck, not that you’ll need it.”
I have nowhere to put the flower, so I stick it in my backpack, the cheerful head poking out. I kiss him on the cheek, grateful for his support.
He doesn’t move. I’m seriously in a hurry and starting to get annoyed. He’s not saying anything, just standing there, looking at me.
I clear my throat and look over his shoulder meaningfully, as in, “I have to go.” But I don’t want to be rude and say anything, so I wait.
He doesn’t seem to get the hint.
“Corey, I’m gonna be late for my interview!” I snap.
I see the hurt flash in his eyes, but I’m too focused on getting to my interview to care all that much. He steps aside, wishes me good luck (in a much less cheerful manner), and then I stumble right into Ryder.
Heat tornadoes through my body. My legs weaken, and his warmth pulls me closer.
I look into Ryder’s eyes, trying to determine his thoughts. Why he has come to be my savior, whether he seems to mind. I find no answers, just crystal-blue eyes that hypnotize me.
Behind me, I hear Corey clear his throat in perfect imitation of what I did to him.
“Leesh, your appointment, remember?”
My headache returns full force, and rage builds within me.
I turn around to face my best friend, who has his lips pursed and his arms crossed over his chest. A muscle ticks in his cheek.
“I know, Corey! I’m a big girl, okay?”
“Fine, just thought you were in a hurry.” Corey glares at Ryder as he stalks off.
Ryder’s deep voice rumbles into my ear. He speaks softly, and his breath sends shivers down my back. “Try to breathe deep. He’s only looking out for you. Have mercy.”