The Opposite of Ordinary

  I pat the card against my hand. “I’m grateful for your offer, but can you at least give me a hint what this society is? It kind of sounds like you’re blackmailing me into calling the number.”

  “I prefer the term ‘intensely drastic measures’ to get what I want.” She huffs an exhausted sigh. “Look, call the number, answer their questions, and then I’ll help you become BFFs with Clove and Maxon again. As an added bonus, I’ll give you the identity of the person who started the rumor about you.”

  I jerk back. “How do you know it?”

  She gives an indifferent shrug. “Even though Clove is upset with you, he still did a little snooping around in Queeny’s account and figured out the identity of Sidekick from Hell Land.”

  “And he didn’t tell me himself?” Okay, that one stings. But a deserving sting.

  “He will eventually … after he’s cooled down. Trust me; Clove’s a huge softy when it comes to damsels in distress.”

  “Maybe I’ll just wait for him to tell me, then.”

  “You could, but I doubt you want to,” she says, her voice ringing with confidence.

  She’s right. With what I read this morning, I can’t risk waiting around for Clove to forgive me, especially when it might not ever happen.

  I fold and unfold the card. “What kind of questions will they ask me when I call?”

  She shrugs. “Just stuff about your old friends—nothing too personal or anything. We just need to know a little bit more about the people who’ve been trying to ruin our lives for years.”

  “Why? Are you plotting some sort of revenge plan?”

  “Kind of. It isn’t as bad as it sounds. I just want to break someone’s heart like they broke mine.”

  “You mean, Judd?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I told you I was over him.”

  “Okay …” This is so strange. Like, straight up from another dimension strange. “Who’s we? I mean, who are these people in this society?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, while you’re not in their inner circle now, you were once, which makes you an untrustworthy ally.” She backs toward the door as the bell rings. “The people who are in this … They’re all friends of mine who are tired of people like Queeny and Judd and Knox walking all over everyone who they think is below them. And they’re going to find a way to stop the drama so everyone can become equals. But we need people like you to give us some dirt.”

  I’m wary about all of this. “I like the idea of making everyone equals, but it sounds like a big, impossible, undoable mission.”

  “We’ll see.” She spins around to leave, but throws a challenging glance over her shoulder. “That is, if you have the guts to call the number.” She pulls open the door, but pauses. “Oh, yeah, and Ash? Do you still have that letter you wrote to Maxon?”

  I pat my backpack. “Yeah, I actually brought it to school with me today.”

  The delighted smile she gives me makes me feel like I’m skittering toward a cliff.

  “Good.” She starts to step out.

  “Wait!” I call out. She catches the door right before it shuts, but doesn’t turn around. “What’s the answer to the question? How do you rip out an evil villain’s heart?”

  “By making her heart feel again,” she replies, then leaves me alone, stewing in a mess of confusion.

  I don’t know what this Heartbreaker Society is, what they’re up to, or if I trust Clarissa. But again, I won’t know until I try, so I dial the number on the card.

  When the snooty guy answers the phone with the bizarre question, I reply with the answer Clarissa gave me.

  “Looks like Ashlynn Wynterland passed the second time around,” the guy says, or more like sneers. “I thought it would take you at least five tries.”

  I lean against the tile wall with the phone pressed to my ear. “How do you know my name?”

  “Caller ID.” His tone carries a hint of familiarity, like we’ve crossed paths briefly before, but I can’t figure out from where. “And Clarissa said you’d be calling me.”

  “You sound familiar,” I tell him, chewing on my thumbnail. “Have we ever met?”

  “I’ll be the one asking the questions here.”

  “That sounds sketchy. This whole thing sounds awfully sketchy. No one’s going to get hurt, right?”

  “No.” He gives a short pause. “Well, maybe their hearts, but that’s it.”

  I line my palm to my chest, right above my now cracked heart. “That might be worse.”

  He sighs with frustration. “Look, we’re not doing anything more terrible than the stuff they’ve done to us. All we’re going to do is make them fall for someone, and then break their hearts, so they know what it feels like.”

  “That sounds like a risky game. Not just for them, but for whoever’s going to do the heartbreaking.”

  “How?” He sounds genuinely curious and a little bit concerned.

  “Well, what if you end up falling in love with the person you’re playing? And your heart gets broken, too.”

  “That won’t happen,” he snaps. “We’re all smarter than that.”

  “Hearts are unpredictable,” I point out. “And pretty uncontrollable.”

  A beat of silence passes before he huffs an annoyed breath. “Look, I didn’t have you call to hear your wisdom on my plan.” The eye roll is evident in his tone. “All I want from you is some answers to a few questions and then Clarissa will follow through with her end of the deal.”

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Warning noted and rejected. Now, are you going to answer me questions or not?”

  I still don’t feel like I completely understand what this Heartbreaker Society is, what they’re really up to, or if I trust can trust Clarissa to follow through with her end of the deal. But as the Queeny’s messages with Sidekick from Hell Land course through my thoughts, I find answering, “What do you want to know?”

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m leaving the bathroom, well beyond tardy for class. I don’t know whether to be nervous or not about what happened. For the most part, his questions were pretty simple. What my old friends’ likes and dislikes were, favorite foods, dating history, etc. If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess he was creating a dating profile for each person, which, from what he said, maybe he is.

  I tried to wiggle some more details from him after the questioning was over, but he hung up on me before I got the chance. He also didn’t tell me how or when Clarissa was going to help me. So, now all I can do is wait and hope she follows through before something else terrible happens.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I end up getting lunch detention for being so late to first period. And by the time I’m reporting for cafeteria duty, I haven’t heard from Clarissa.

  I spend the entire lunch period washing trays, but truthfully, it beats eating food while sitting on a toilet. The two of those should never, ever mix!

  After I’m released from scrubbing duty, I have a little extra time left before my next class starts, so I head to the vending machine to grab a Snickers bar, because hello, yum.

  As I’m peeling the wrapper off my delicious snack, someone bumps into the side of me.

  “Drop the chocolate or else,” they say in a deep voice that’s faker than Queeny’s nose.

  My guard immediately goes up, and I clutch my Snickers bar for dear life as I whirl around. Then I shake my head and release the candy from my death grip, but I don’t relax.

  “Clarissa,” I say politely, “what do you want? And please don’t say my candy bar.”

  She shakes her head as she secures her hair up into a messy bun. “I came here to follow through with my end of the deal.”

  “Oh.” I can’t hide the surprise in my tone.

  “You seem shocked.”

  “Well …” I bite into my candy bar. “After everything that’s happened, I kind of expecte
d to get screwed over.”

  “Yet, you still went through with your end of the deal.” She examines me closely. “You must really want what I’m offering.”

  I nod truthfully. “I really do.”

  “Good.” Her lips pull into a smile. “Do you have that note you wrote?”

  Nodding, I fish the letter out of my bag. “Here it is.”

  When she reaches for it, I fold my fingers around it more tightly.

  She sighs. “If you want a chance at being friends with them again, you need to give them a better apology than muttering ‘I’m sorry’ then running off.”

  I blow out a breath. “I know … It’s just that … I kind of wrote this from the heart. I blame it on Mr. Chester. He’s always telling us that the best stories come from the heart.”

  “So do the best apologies,” she reminds me, sticking out her hand. “So, come on; hand it over before I tackle you and pry it out of your hand.”

  I don’t relinquish the letter just yet.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “You already know why.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “Mostly. I also want to help Maxon and Clove because, whether they’ll admit it or not, they miss you.” She holds up a hand. “Only God knows why, but they do.”

  A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “Really?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get too excited just yet. We have some work to do first.” She snatches the letter from me, grabs my hand, and yanks me down the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” I jog to keep up, not completely unaware that we’re drawing attention from everyone, including Queeny, Knox, and all their little wannabe minions.

  When Queeny spots us, her eyes light up. “Dating a girl, Ash? I so didn’t see that one coming. Although, it kind of makes sense now why you weren’t putting out for Knox.”

  Knox visibly tenses, then puzzlement creases his forehead. His mouth opens to say who knows what, but fortunately, Clarissa pulls me around the corner.

  “Great, now they’re going to tell everyone we’re dating,” I murmur as I allow her to drag me down the hallway.

  “So what?” Clarissa says, continuing to march forward. “You could do—and have done—a lot worse.”

  “True,” I agree. “I just hate that other people are getting dragged into this fight going on between Queeny and me.”

  Clarissa stops in front of Mr. Chester’s classroom, releases my hand, and reels around to face me. “A fight that will soon be over.”

  “Okay.” I eyeball the door, wondering what she’s up to. “Is Maxon and Clove in there?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but Mr. Chester is.”

  “Okay …” I try to figure out what her urging expression means, but I was never that great at playing guess what the pantomime’s saying. “So then, why are we here?”

  She heaves an impatient sigh, moves behind me, and then pushes me toward the classroom. “Because Mr. Chester is in charge of the science club, which means he’s the one you go to, to get into the science club and to attend science fairs. Or, if you’ve got some information about a particular incident that happened last year that got Fareland High’s science team kicked out of the Fareland University’s science fair.”

  As her words click, I dig my heels into the ground. “Wait. You want me to confess to Mr. Chester that I sabotaged his team last year?”

  She groans in frustration, muttering something about me being a pain in the ass. Then she swings around in front of me. “It’s the only chance of Maxon, Clove, Kinslee, and Huntley being able to participate this year.”

  My gaze dithers from the classroom to her. “You really think, if I tell him what I did, it’ll be enough?”

  She shrugs. “You never know until you try.”

  “A lot of people have been saying that to me lately.”

  “I guess you know a lot of wise people, then.”

  “I guess I do.”

  “But the question is: do you have the guts to do it?” she asks, giving me a pressing look. “Because you’ll probably get in trouble.”

  “I know.” I chew on my fingernail as I eye the door, remembering my week-long adventure with Maxon and his friends. A week. That was all the time I spent with them, yet I felt more alive than I ever have. They accepted me for who I was, forgave me when they shouldn’t have. They helped me so much, probably more than they’ll ever know. “I think it might be worth it.”

  Summoning a deep breath, I walk in, facing my mistakes head-on like I should’ve done in the first place.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Confessing is harder than I thought, but I manage to get the whole truth out without fleeing the room. The look of pure disappointment Mr. Chester gives me, though, is like a roundhouse kick to the face.

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. And from one of my favorite students.” He rests his elbows on his desk, shaking his head.

  Okay, now I just want to cry.

  “I’m really sorry. When I did it, I wasn’t acting like myself. Not my true self, anyway. I know that’s not an excuse, but …” I shrug, looking down at the floor, unable to bear the look in his eyes. “I came here to tell you this, and to hopefully make things right … Clarissa said you might be able to get them unbanned from the science fair …” I steal a glance at him. “Is that true?”

  He nods, reaching for the phone on his desk. “I’ll need you to talk to the administrator of the fair, and tell her what you did.” He pauses before his fingers wrap around the receiver. “She may report you to the principal, and I’m not sure what kind of punishment will follow.”

  I swallow the worry clumping my airway and nod. “I’m ready to deal with the consequences. I just want them to be able to enter the fair and get a chance at that scholarship.”

  His disappointment reduces a smidgen. “That’s a very good answer. I only hope that, at the end of this, you’ll think twice before doing something this hurtful to a fellow student again.”

  “Oh, I definitely will.” My words carrying more truth than he can possibly know.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, I’m leaving the principal’s office with a month-long membership slip to afterschool detention in my hand.

  After telling the administrator at the university about my sabotage, she insisted I be reported, so Mr. Chester walked me down to the office and did just that. He did speak on my behalf before he left, telling the principal what a good student I am, which is probably the reason I didn’t get suspended like the administrator wanted.

  The spectacular news, though, is that the science team is officially allowed to compete in the science fair again. I wish I could have gone with Mr. Chester to tell them the news, but we both thought it might be better if I didn’t since I was the one who caused their disqualification to begin with. If I’m being entirely lie detector honest, part of the reason I don’t want go is because I’m afraid Maxon and Clove will still hate me.

  Since I don’t have any more classes with them for the day, I don’t even get a hint to my question of the day. When the final bell rings, dismissing school, I consider tracking them down in the hallway and finding out, but Clarissa blindsides me at my locker.

  “Are you ready to finish this thing?” she asks, bouncing up and down on her toes, bursting with fireworks of excitement.

  “I thought we already did it,” I reply, bumping my locker shut. “What else is there to do? I mean, they’re back in the fair, and you gave Maxon the letter, right? Now I have to wait and see if they’ll come around. I don’t think there’s anything more I can do.”

  “I’m not talking about Maxon and Clove. I’m talking about outing the little troublemaker.” With an almost manic smile, she grabs my hand again and shoves her way down the hallway.

  I don’t know where we’re heading or what we’re going to do when we get there, but with how bouncy, bouncy kangaroos she looks, I wonder if perhaps she’s going to get some vindic
ation, too.

  Queeny. The rumor starter has to be Queeny. Clarissa was right from the start.

  My suspicions are confirmed when Clarissa strides up to Queeny and her friends, and lets go of my hand.

  Queeny gives her a half-bored, half-disgusted look. “I have a strict no losers within ten feet of me policy, so shoo.” She flicks her hand in Clarissa’s face.

  A deliberate smile carves across Clarissa’s face. “So, Judd has you all fooled, huh?”

  “Judd?” I question, stepping up beside Clarissa. “Judd did this?”

  Clarissa doesn’t glance in my direction, her gaze boring into Queeny. “Judd is the one who told you that Ash kissed Zane. Isn’t that right, little Miss My-shit-don’t-stink-even-though-I’m-the-one-who-stinks-up-the-girls’-bathroom-every-morning.”

  Queeny goes from bored to livid in a hair shoulder flip of a second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never use the school’s bathrooms.”

  “Sure you don’t.” Clarissa rolls her eyes. “That’s really not what I came here to talk about, is it?”

  “So what? You figured out Judd was the one who told me Ash is a backstabbing whore,” Queeny spits then centers her gaze on me, and her infamous smirk rises. “What matters is she did it. And now she has to pay for screwing me over.”

  I calculate my next words carefully, trying to figure out how to play this. Judd is the liar. Judd? Why?

  Right on cue, Judd strolls up with a couple of his friends, including Knox.

  “Hey, babe,” Knox greets Queeny with a kiss. Then his eyes find me, and he frowns. “What’re you doing here, Ash?”

  Judd shoots me a malicious smirk from behind Knox and mouths, “Open those pretty legs up.”

  I bite down on my tongue and focus on Knox, for a moment, anyway. “Oh, you know, breathing in the scent of regret and trying to figure out how much sweeter the lovely scent of vengeance is going to smell.” My gaze skates to Judd, and my smile is brighter than disco lights. “Isn’t that right, Sidekick from Hell Land.”

  Judd’s I’m-the-shit grin dissolves into a glare, one he quickly recovers as he steps toward me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t speak freak.” He leans in, lowering his voice. “I do screw them, though … sometimes, if they’re lucky.”