Sweet Evil(9)

“You thought he was hot, didn’t you?”

I stared out of my window at the passing trees and houses. We were almost to school.

“I knew it!” He smacked the steering wheel, loving every second of my discomfort. “This is so weird. Anna Whitt has a crush.”

“Fine, yes. He was hot. But it doesn’t matter, because there’s something about him I don’t like. I can’t explain it. He’s... scary.”

“He’s not the boy next door, if that’s what you mean. Just don’t get the good-girl syndrome.”

“What’s that?”

“You know. When a good girl falls for a bad boy and hopes the boy will fall in love and magically want to change his ways. But the only one who ends up changing is the girl. Like Jamie Moore, remember?”

Jamie Moore! That’s where I’d heard Kaidan’s name before! She was a junior at our school.

We parked in our usual spot at Cass High School.

“See you at lunch,” Jay said. He had his eye on a girl named Kaylah, who was climbing out of her car three spots down.

“Yeah, see you then.” I walked to school while he lagged behind to say hi to her.

Jamie Moore was on my mind all day.

I sat with Jay at lunch, but my eyes kept going to Jamie, sitting with her same group of friends, but sort of an outcast now. She sat on the end, keeping to herself as the others played and flirted.

Being unsociable and fashion-backward had never been issues for Jamie Moore. She was a year older than me, beautiful, and a genuinely nice person. Her primary color used to be the sunshine yellow of happiness. At the beginning of this school year she’d been a cheerleader and president of the drama club. In the fall I heard she was dating some guy in a band from a high school in Atlanta.

Kaidan Rowe.

Her colors began to change then. Yellow to red. Red to gray. Gray to black. She was full of anger, then self-loathing, and most recently depression. Gossip flew about pictures of Jamie taken on her boyfriend’s cell phone, and their eventual breakup. She was soon kicked off the cheerleading squad for failing grades. Next came stories of her partying, moving from one guy to another, but never being happy. For the first time she wasn’t given the starring role in the winter play.

My heart contracted tightly as I looked at her again, sitting there at the end of the long lunch table. She still dressed trendy and took time to style her hair, which was probably why she was welcome to continue sitting with the others. But her smile and her sunshine yellow were gone, replaced by a dull gray haze.

The bell rang and I watched her shuffle out of the cafeteria.

No, I did not want to see Kaidan again. Of that I was now certain.

I made my way through the crowded halls, barely cringing anymore at the onslaught of emotion from the people surrounding me. It had been difficult adjusting to a big school after spending the first eight years in a small private school, but I was used to it now.

It was almost the end of the school year—two more weeks to go. The Georgia heat had set in, bringing with it tank tops and flip-flops, as well as shorts and skirts that kept no secrets. I shied away from showing too much skin, partly because of my own modesty, and partly because I felt kind of bad for boys. Unlike other girls, I had to see firsthand that most boys were having a hard enough time concentrating on anything besides their overpowering hormones.

Jay mussed my hair as I passed him in the hall, never pausing in his conversation with one of the guys from band class. I smiled, smoothing my hair back down.

I slipped into my Spanish class and immediately started the class work written on the board. Once finished, I peeked over at Scott McCallister, who sat next to me. He was dozing off on top of unfinished verb conjugations.

Scott was an all-state wrestler—a cutie with big brown eyes and a baby face. He’d always been courteous to me, even flirtatious at times, but I didn’t take it to heart, seeing how he flirted with lots of girls.

The class finished early and we were told to work on our final project.

“Um, Senora Martinez?” I raised my hand and she nodded. “Are you going to collect the homework?”

A collective groan rose up from the students, and the guy next to Scott muttered, “Shut up, stupid!” I slunk down low in my seat, mortified by my own social faux pas.

“Ah, sí!” Senora Martinez said. “Gracias, Anna.”

“Why you gotta be so good all the time?” Scott whispered. I lifted my eyes and caught his teasing expression. He had no assignment to pass up when the teacher came around.

My face was still warm by the time she finished collecting the worksheets. Veronica, who sat in front of me, turned and gave me a sympathetic look. She was one of the only other students who did the homework.