Lovely.
He tossed one of the packets of Skittles at me. “Any more questions, you know where to find me, Princess.”
His boyish smile was undeniable. He really wasn’t teasing me. The moniker was that of…approval. The skin atop of my left hand began to tingle as I grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the vending machine. By the time I got down the hall, the sensation dulled. Ducking into the bathroom, I took off the glove from my hand, seeing the ink glowing ever so slightly. It wasn’t the same symbol that had been acting up yesterday, and nothing strange seemed to happen with this one, so I guessed that was at least worth something.
Things really weren’t shaping up to get any easier though. The light dimmed down by the time I made it to my next class, but I had to wait until the very last second to slip into Calculus, as to avoid being barraged by God only knows who for my little lunchroom indiscretion.
“What the hell?” Vanessa mouthed as I took an available seat, purposely on the other side of the room from her and Eric.
I didn’t answer, fixing my gaze on the blackboard. The moment class let out, I bolted. I couldn’t seem to escape everyone, because Kelsey tentatively approached me a few minutes later, dialing in the combination to her locker a few feet from mine. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Please, don’t say it. Please just don’t say it.
“Listen, about lunch…”
Crap.
Kelsey could be worse than Carly sometimes when it came to gossip and social status, so I imagined my fuse would blow after about ten seconds. “Let me guess, you think I should stay away from Reese, because I’m popular and he’s apparently bat-shit crazy?”
“No.”
I preemptively rolled my eyes before my brain managed to truly process the answer. “Wait… ‘No’?”
She gave a small smile. “I think it was kind of cool, actually.”
My jaw dropped so far, I could have kicked it with my shoe.
“Reese seems like a decent guy from what I’ve gathered. Sure, he’s got a chip on his shoulder, but can you blame him? With all the elitist, holier-than-thou bullshit that goes on around here, Blackburn’s treated like he’s a Sith Lord or something. Just because you’re from the ‘other’ side of the tracks doesn’t make it the ‘wrong’ side.”
“Wow…” I tried to say something—anything else—but I couldn’t find the words. It was honestly that shocking.
Kelsey gave a halfhearted laugh. “Yeah, I know. You’re probably thinking you’re hallucinating, hearing me say this, but you know how it is. If my mom caught word of it, she’d shipped me off to get my head examined.”
“I hear ya’.” Another warming sensation crept across my chest, and I looked down the hall just as Reese came around the corner. Dr. Fritz immediately flagged him down, handing something over to him in a small, brown paper bag.
“Those your meds?” barked out Trace Bolton, Mystic Harbor’s epitome of the dumb-jock stereotype.
His buddies joined in on the running commentary, and my stomach roiled. Dr. Fritz shooed them away to no avail before she disappeared into the stairwell, leaving Reese once again at their mercy.
“So what are they for, Buffalo Bill?” Bolton further taunted. “To quiet the little voices in your head? To fend off delusions? You see little green men?”
The rest of his posse kept the remarks coming, and Reese just shook his head.
“Come on, Barnabas Collins,” snickered Trace. He threw a beefy arm around Reese’s shoulder, plucking at the collar of his rakish dress shirt. “Tell us, what’s your deal, man?”
Reese immediately shrugged him off. “You know how they say, ‘every village has its idiot’? Well, I was told the pills would help me see only one.” His gaze drifted across the entire lot of them. “Appears they’re not working, because I can’t keep count of you guys.”
A few bystanders laughed, until Trace shot them a daring glare.
I shrunk back, leaning over to Kelsey. “Has it always been like this?”
“With Reese?” Kelsey winced as she stole a look behind us. “Yeah, but it’s still not as bad as it used to be. When we were younger, Trace really gave it to him.”
“Are you serious?” My stomach roiled at the thought. If the guy was even half the size he was now, I couldn’t imagine…
She nodded. “Yeah, and trust me. That guy was never small.”
I grimaced all the more.
“Along with the relentless name-calling, Trace and all his friends thought it would be funny to make Blackburn into their new dodge ball target. So during recess, they used to grab him and throw him up against the side of the building where the teachers couldn’t see. They started pelting Reese with the equipment. It wasn’t anything new. Trace did this to him all the time. But on one particular day, Bolton decided that dodge balls wouldn’t cut it. His whole posse started nailing Reese with basketballs, and Trace even pitched a baseball at him. Cracked his ribcage.”