I feel numb right now, like I'm living in some kind of alternate world where I can't express any feelings or emotions without being ostracized for them. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you're acting like a diva, expecting me to be the perfect boyfriend when I can't possibly live up to your expectations." He presses his palms to his eyes and breathes in and out slowly. "I have to go. I need time to cool off."
He walks out, and I feel an invisible wall building in my heart. The feeling that Trey has been distant lately isn't my imagination. He says "love ya" as if he's a robot trained to say it and not because it's coming from his heart. He's so into slipping big words into his sentences, but can't even manage to say "I love you" like he used to.
"Where's Trey?" Mom asks as I walk into the kitchen a few minutes later, wanting nothing more than to cry. "I thought you two were going to watch a movie in the den."
"We were." I sigh. "But he left."
"Is everything okay?"
My parents worry about me enough. I don't need to add to it.
"Yeah. Everything's fine," I tell her.
"He's such a good boy. You could be stuck with that Salazar boy. Then we'd have a serious problem on our hands."
"Vic is a good guy, Mom."
She throws me a sideways glance. "That's not what I hear. Your uncle Thomas told me about an altercation at the beach the other night. He hinted that Vic was involved. I know Trey is friends with him, but you need to keep your distance. Boys like that are nothing but trouble."
I would argue, but it's no use. Mom isn't going to change her mind about Vic. She's pegged him a troublemaker, and she's not likely to change her opinion no matter what I say. Besides, he does get in fights. But nobody realizes that most of the time he's provoked or is trying to protect someone. He has a fierce way of protecting the ones he cares about. He doesn't talk about it and never defends himself from scrutiny or comments people make, as if he deserves them.
A small part of me wishes Trey was more like Vic, caring more about the ones he loves than his class rank.
Trey accused me of never knowing what it would be like to work hard while going to school.
"Mom, can I get an after-school job?" I blurt out.
"I'd rather not. Concentrate on your schoolwork instead." She rubs my arm. "Besides, you need to rest that body of yours. You can't afford to have a setback and be so disabled you can't go to school."
I've always been the good girl, the one who follows directions and doesn't cause waves. All it ended up giving me is "diva" status. And a disabled label from my parents.
I'm so done being the good girl, afraid of letting go because of limitations set on me by my parents, the doctors, and myself.
It's time I become a rebel, because living life so far inside the safe zone isn't working for me.
Chapter Seven
VICTOR
Being a senior at Fremont has its advantages. It also means that we're the ones responsible for pranking rival schools. Lucky for us, we've got it covered. Our quarterback, Derek "The Fitz" Fitzpatrick, is as eager as me to start this year with a prank that'll be talked about for years.
We're sitting in Derek's grandmother's basement eating some gourmet food that she ordered in for us. She has no clue that me, Derek, Trey, and Jet are plotting something epic.
"We could TP their houses," Trey chimes in as he gets a text, then busily starts typing away on his cell.
Derek fake yawns. "Been there, done that."
Jet isn't impressed either. "We need something original, something that's never been done before."
I've been trying to come up with a prank that doesn't involve us going to jail.
"What about dyeing their jerseys Fremont High gold or black?" Derek says.
Seeing our rivals wearing our colors would be hella funny. "How are we gonna get hold of their jerseys?" I ask.
Derek, with his cocky attitude and Texas-sized confidence, grins wide. "Trust me. I can break into a maximum-security prison if I have to."
"Seems like we could do somethin' easier," I say. An idea pops into my head. "How about spray painting REBELS on their field?"
We look at each other. Derek has the skills to help us do this. Trey has the brains. Jet is ready for anything having to do with entertaining himself. And me? I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, and while art isn't my thing, I'm not a stranger to a spray-paint can.
"I'm in," Jet says.
"Me too." Derek stands. I can tell the wheels are turning. "I'm excited for this. It'll be epic."
We all look at Trey, who's busy texting.
"Trey, put your fucking phone down," Jet says, trying to snatch it away from him.
I toss a pillow at Trey. "Come on. Let's do this."
Trey looks so preoccupied I don't know if he's heard a word of our plan. "Yeah," he says, glancing up. "Whatever you guys want to do is fine."
Suddenly Mrs. Wentworth, Derek's grandmother, appears. She just moved here from Texas to be closer to him since his mom died and his dad is deployed. She's standing at the bottom of the basement stairs with a ridiculously big red hat perched on her head.
Jet rushes up to her with his arms open wide. "Granny Wentworth!" he cries out before enveloping her in a huge, overenthusiastic bear hug.
Mrs. Wentworth politely pats Jet on the back. "Jacob, my dear," she says, calling him by his real first name instead of his initials like everyone else. "Please don't call me Granny. Mrs. Wentworth is quite sufficient."
Jet laughs. "You sure? Mrs. Wentworth sounds so... formal."
"It's called manners, Jacob. Maybe you've heard of them?" The old lady clears her throat and adjusts her hat that's now cocked sideways due to Jet's hug.
When Mrs. Wentworth eyes me, I say, "Thanks for the food, Mrs. Wentworth."
She smiles. "It's my pleasure, Victor." She raises a brow at the lone piece of bread on the floor. "What are you scoundrels up to tonight? It is a school night, you know."
Derek holds up a hand. "You don't want to know what we were doing, Grams. Guy stuff."
"Y'all have fun... but not too much fun," she adds with a wagging finger directed at all of us. "And don't do anything illegal, you hear me?"
She leaves us, but not before Jet declares her a hot grandma worthy of a young buck like him. The woman is close to eighty years old, which makes us all laugh. I'm not even sure if Jet is kidding or not. He's a guy who gets off on breaking social norms. My friends have not been known to live inside society's rules, that's for damn sure.
"Let's meet at Jet's on Thursday at midnight," I tell the guys. "The epicness is about to begin."
Trey glances up. "There is no such word as epicness, Vic."
"Yo, Trey." I smile wide and hold my arms out wide. "Ask me if I give a fuck."
Chapter Eight
MONIKA
At night when my body starts to give out and I'm exhausted, I usually just lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling and think.
Tonight my thoughts are inundated with Zara and finding out who this mystery girl is.
I go online to see if I can find her. She doesn't go to my school, that's for sure. I start looking at students who attend Fairfield High, our rival. I start at the page of Fairfield High's biggest jerk, Matthew Bonk, because he's popular and knows just about everyone.
I check out his profile, feeling like a spy. He posts a lot of pictures of his abs. The dude is definitely an egomaniac, wanting people to worship him. I scan all of his four thousand friends, searching for a girl named Zara.
It doesn't take me long to find her.
"So that's her," I whisper to myself when I come across a picture of Bonk posing with a bunch of cheerleaders.
Wow. Pink hair reminding me of cotton candy. Big blue eyes. Snow white skin. She's the opposite of me. Zara Hughes is her name.
I've never seen the girl before, but when I click on her profile I'm inundated with information. She posts something on her page every day or so, whether it's a picture or quot
e or some kind of comment about her day.
She doesn't mention anything about Trey, and there are no pictures of them together. But then I come across a post she made in June, when I was four hours away vacationing in Door County with my family.
Best night of my life. Secret relationships are the best ones. No drama, no bullshit.
My heart starts pounding fast. As much as I want to live in denial, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit into place.
*
In the morning, my boyfriend is standing in front of my locker with a red rose in his hand.
"Sorry about last night," he says, handing me the flower. "I was stressed out."
"It's fine," I tell him, taking the rose and noting the thorns still on the stem. I wait for him to explain Zara's text. He doesn't. "Is that it, Trey? That's all you want to say?"
"No." He looks me straight in the eye. "To be completely forthcoming, Zara is a girl I met at Lollapalooza. She was joking around when she sent the text."
"Do you like her?" I ask tentatively, not knowing if I want to hear the answer.
"As an acquaintance, yeah." He holds his hands up, as if he's frustrated by my comment. "Can't I have friends who are girls?"
"Yeah," I tell him. "You can. I just don't expect them to flirt with you. She flirts with you." On the tip of my tongue are words I'm holding back... Do you flirt with her?
"I don't know," he quickly says.
I think he expects the subject to be over. It's not.
Not by a long shot.
When our group of friends appear in the hallway, Trey drapes his arm around me. It's a show for everyone, so they don't know that our relationship is in trouble. I hate the show, but I know he doesn't want everyone to know we're having problems.
"Don't ditch us tonight, man," Vic tells Trey. "Or I swear I'm gonna kick your ass."
"Ditch you for what?" I ask, curious. Trey never mentioned he was going out with the guys tonight. Then again, he doesn't share much with me lately so I shouldn't be surprised.
"A prank on Rolling Meadows High," Derek chimes in. He looks around to make sure no teachers are in hearing range. "It's gonna be awesome."
"What's the prank?" I ask.
"It's a guy thing," Trey says, making me feel like an outsider.
I sneer, the insult hitting home as I brush his arm off me. "A guy thing? Seriously?"
"Yeah, like Vic working at Enrique's Auto Body," he says. "It's a guy thing."
I put my hands on my hips. "I could work at Enrique's."
Jet, Derek, and Trey laugh. Vic looks horrified I'd even bring it up.
"You guys are so sexist," Ashtyn chimes in. "Monika can do whatever she wants, including working at Enrique's."
"Yeah," I tell them. "I can work at Enrique's if I wanted to."
Vic grabs his math book out of his locker. "No, you can't."
"Why not?"
Trey drapes his arm around my shoulder again. "Because you're not used to doing manual labor where you might break a nail." He nods to the guys. "Now let's talk about tonight."
My mouth is open in shock. I can't believe he just said that, even as I glance down at my freshly manicured nails.
"Jet's house," Vic says. "Eleven thirty sharp. I'll get the supplies while you guys figure out logistics."
Ash shakes her head. "Don't get caught."
"We won't," Jet says with confidence. "We've got masks."
"Oh, right," Ash says sarcastically. "As if putting on a stupid mask is an assurance that you guys won't get in trouble."
Derek kisses her. "Don't worry, Sugar Pie. It's not the first time I've pulled a prank, and it won't be the last. You girls aren't cut out for pranks."
Ash and I look at each other knowingly.
That's what he thinks.
Chapter Nine
VICTOR
I drive over to Jet's house with my truck, ready for the prank that will kick off our senior year. Derek and Jet are waiting for me in Jet's driveway. We all match each other in black T-shirts and sweatpants.
"We can't show our faces just in case they have cameras," Derek says, proudly picking up four knit black hats. He cuts eye holes in them so we can pull them over our faces.
"Where's Trey?" I ask.
"Yeah, about that." Jet holds up a hand. "I got a text from him. He's not coming. Something about working on college applications or something like that."
Shit.
"Whatever," Derek says, annoyed. "We can do this without him."
I don't want to do this without Trey. I try calling him, but it goes straight to voice mail. I try texting him, but he doesn't text back.
"What's wrong with Trey lately?" Derek asks. "He's so fucking preoccupied."
Jet jumps into my backseat. "He's not even fun to hang out with anymore. I swear he was texting on that fucking phone the entire time we hung out yesterday."
"He's got a lot goin' on," I say, defending my best friend even though I'm pissed at him myself. "Let's just get this prank over with."
Driving onto Rolling Meadows High's property to scout the place out gives me an adrenaline rush. Lucky for us, there isn't around-the-clock security at the school. Still, to play it safe, we park a block away.
"We look ridiculous," Jet says, trying to adjust the eye holes on the knit hats. "My eye holes aren't lined up right," he complains as we jump out of the truck with the spray paint cans. "I can only see out of one eye."
The holes are so wide apart he looks like a Cyclops, but there is no time to fix it because the more time we're here, the riskier it is. I don't plan on getting caught.
We each take a couple of spray paint cans and head to our rivals' football field.
"I can't see with this fucking hat on my face," Jet complains.
"I did my best," Derek says. "Deal with it, bro."
We turn the corner ready to jump the fence when I catch sight of two silhouettes hiding in the shadows. I halt, ready to book it out of here, when the figures come into the light.
No. Way.
"What the hell are you two doin' here?" I ask, shocked to see Monika and Ashtyn standing in front of the fence. My eyes immediately focus on Monika. She's wearing a yellow top and skinny jeans that hug her curvy body.
Damn. She looks amazing.
"We want to help you guys," Monika says.
Jet tries to adjust the knit cap. "Monika? Ashtyn?" he asks, trying to see out of the one eye hole.
"You can't help," I tell the girls. "Go home."
"Yeah, go home," Derek says, pulling Ash aside. "If you get in trouble, your dad'll shit bricks."
"I don't care," Ash says stubbornly.
Monika puts her hands on her hips and sticks her jaw out. The gestures make her look sexy instead of intimidating. "We're helping you guys whether you like it or not. Now you can argue with us and waste time, or you can include us and we can do this fast. Which is it?"
Derek rolls his eyes. "You two are killin' me."
Monika peers around me. "Where's Trey?"
"He ditched us," I say.
She blinks her beautiful sea green eyes. "Oh."
"Come on," Derek says, helping Ash scale the fence after putting his knit cap over her face.
"I'll be with you guys in a minute," I say, taking Monika's arm and urging her aside.
"What?" Monika says, looking at me with such determination and passion it makes me want to kiss her. "I want to do this. You're not going to stop me."
I gather my wits and pretend that I'm not mesmerized by her sparkling eyes or her pouty lips. "Go home, Monika," I tell her. "You're not cut out for this."
What I want to say is that I don't want her here for her own safety. I'd never forgive myself if she got in trouble. Or hurt.
"Not cut out for this? That's so rude," she spits out. Pushing me aside, she starts climbing the fence. Her feet are small and she's too delicate to do what she's attempting.
"Monika, get down," I whisper as loud as I can. Damn, if someone hears us they'll
for sure call the cops. That's the last thing I need.
"No. If Ash can do this, so can I," she says.
Oh, man. "Then let me help you."
"No."
"Don't be stubborn."
"I can be stubborn all I want, Vic. It's my life. If I want to scale a damn fence, then I'll scale a damn fence."
I quickly follow her up the fence, hoping at some point she'll realize this was a bad idea. She's almost at the top.
"Don't fall," I tell her.
"I won't."
But on her way down, her foot slips. She falls the last five feet and lands with a thump. My heart stops.
"You okay?" I call out frantically as I jump off the fence and kneel by her side.
She sits up slowly. "Leave me alone," she says weakly. "I think I'm fine, so just go away."
"You think you're fine?" I ask.
She brushes dust off her knees. "I'm not leaving, if that's what you think. So I fell. It's no big deal, Vic. Stop looking at me as if I just became disabled. I don't want or need that."
I shake my head, then hold my hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Do whatever you want, Monika."
Jet rushes over to us, stumbling from side to side and almost tripping on a misplaced bench because he's still looking out of one eye hole. "Her shirt glows like a fuckin' yellow highlighter, Vic. If she won't leave, give her your shirt and cover that shit up."
"Here," I say, lifting my black shirt over my head and shoving it into her hand. "Put this on and wait here. I'll be right back."
I run to my truck and snatch the fourth knit cap that Trey was supposed to wear, then hurry back to the football field and pull the cap over Monika's face.
"I can't see anything," she complains as she braces herself on the metal fence and slowly stands. She rips the mask off and tosses it to me.
"That's the least of your problems. You hurt yourself," I tell her as she hobbles just a bit before righting herself.
"I'm fine." She snatches a spray can from my hand and walks away. She might think she's hiding the slight limp, but I totally notice it.
When we get to the middle of the field, Derek and Ashtyn are having a loud conversation not fit for a covert operation.
"You spelled it wrong," Ash is telling Derek. "Rebels are numer 1? Baby, you forgot the "b" in number."
Jet laughs. "If I could see out of this fucking itchy hat, I'd have made sure he spelled it right. Derek, when you search "dumb jock" online does a picture of you come up?"