Page 17 of Defiant
The other students in choir didn’t seem too particularly gossipy or cruel, but you never really knew. Bobbi might pay the price for talking to me like this; that didn’t stop her, though.
“She’s been obsessed with him, and for so long, Archer never gave her the light of day,” she recalled, thinking back as she crossed her ankles beneath her chair. “Then, sometime late last year, something changed. Almost overnight, they started dating.”
Wasn’t that how relationships were formed in high school? New couples sprouted up overnight all the time at my last school; it was nothing out of the ordinary.
The look on my face must’ve said it all, for Bobbi had to add, “You don’t get it, you weren’t here—and it’s only because you’re not part of the Brittany club that I’m telling you this—but Archer hated her. He couldn’t stand her. So, you tell me why, all of a sudden, they start dating and it’s water under the bridge?”
“Hormones?” I suggested, figuring it’d be a good explanation for why I acted the way I did with him. Hormones and his stupid, handsome face, muscular body, and calm, strong hands.Oh, those hands…
Bobbi didn’t look impressed by my suggestion. “If I had to guess, I’d say she got something on him. Everyone has dirt around here, you just have to know where to look. Blackmail is a biweekly ritual in Midpark.”
I didn’t care enough to comment on her wild theory about Archer, instead questioning, “Do you have dirt, too?”
She smiled. “Probably not as much as you, now—only your dirt has been spread around this school like herpes. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. I’m all for trying to take Brittany down a peg or two.”
Bobbi radiated kindness, something I wasn’t used to. “I do want to take her down, but it’ll need to be good,” I muttered, frowning to myself.
As Ms. Haber walked in front of the class, gathering herself, Bobbi leaned into me to whisper, “You want to reschedule for after school? I know you probably have a lot on your mind—after everything, I bet choir is the last thing on your mind.”
Now was the time when I could’ve brought up the fact I had no ride home for the foreseeable future, when I could’ve asked her if she wanted to come over—and thereby drive me home—but I didn’t. A part of me still didn’t trust her, mostly because I didn’t truly trust anyone in Midpark.
The choir concert was in two weeks, so we really didn’t have much time. I couldn’t push it off for too long.
“How about Friday?” I said. Going to any parties was the last thing I wanted to do, so it wasn’t like I had any hot plans. She might, but it wasn’t like I planned on practicing and singing all night. I mean, shoot me now.
“Friday after school works,” Bobbi agreed.
We had to quiet down as Ms. Haber took hold of the class, leading us in vocal warm-ups. Some people might find singing relaxing, but I didn’t. I struggled to pay attention, trying to keep in tune with the fellow altos around me. As I sang, I wondered if what Bobbi said had a shred of truth to it.
If Brittany had some dirt on Archer, if she was basically forcing him into being in a relationship with her, would that change anything? Did that make what he did any less wrong?
No. No, it wouldn’t change anything, and no, it didn’t make it less wrong.
The class period passed slowly, and when the bell rang, I was one of the first to grab my books and rush out after telling Bobbi that I’d see her tomorrow. You know, it was kind of funny, now that my life had spiraled out of control—I hardly had time to worry about Jacob or the reason I hired him.
Until I stood at my locker, all my books shoved in, and made the mistake of checking my email before heading to lunch.
Jacob had emailed me, wanting to meet after school at the diner.
Had he found something? My heart skipped a beat at the thought. Wouldn’t now be the absolute worst time to discover something insidious about Oliver Fitzpatrick, now that mom and I had no car to drive out of here with? I should’ve figured this was how it would go; when things spun out of control, everything went to hell all at once.
There was no point in denying the inevitable, if he had found something, no point in pushing him off or delaying what was surely to come, so I quickly responded to the email before grabbing my lunch bag.
I had a better idea.
Vaughn sat at his usual lunch table, a tray of food before him, which he was mainly pushing around and playing with, not eating. The moment I neared, though, he dropped his spork, eyeing me up like he hadn’t just seen me hours earlier.
I slid into the seat across from him, meeting that black stare. Hate and pain were written across his knuckles, and he moved them under the table, out of sight. Vaughn seemed quiet, not at all the type to have tattoos like that, and it made me wonder if, maybe, I didn’t know the real Vaughn at all.
Could I really know anyone at Midpark?
I said nothing, unrolling my lunch bag in silence and well aware that Vaughn watched me with a quiet fascination I couldn’t place. Was he jealous, maybe? He and I did have a few close encounters…
Was Vaughn the type to get jealous? I guessed I didn’t know him well enough to be the judge of that.
Minutes passed, the cafeteria loud around us, full of dozens of different conversations, laughter, whispering, shouting—you name it. I was glad Brittany and Archer had separate lunch periods than me, but that was a small prize, considering.
“So,” Vaughn broke his silence, tilting his head at me slowly, measuredly, as if he wanted me to be the one to talk.
