Page 9 of Unhinged Love

What do I see? I see who the girl giggled at.

A certain bug-eyed, limp-haired, sweater-wearing freak who takes an empty seat at the opposite end of my row without looking up from her shoes.

Fuck me. Is there anywhere on campus I’ll be able to go and avoid her?

Now more than a few people have noticed not only her bizarre fashion sense but the way she holds herself, with her hair hanging around her face. If she’s going to always stare at her feet, she needs to get a pair of glasses that actually fit, since they keep sliding down until she pushes them back up the bridge of her nose.

What did I ever do to deserve this? And what happens once word gets around that she’s part of my family? I don’t want to be associated with her.

Right now, it looks like I don’t have much say in anything.

Like I needed another reason to hate her guts.

FOUR

Elliana

It’s almost over.All I have to do is sit through the drive home with Carter, and then I can hide in my room and decompress.

That’s the only thought keeping me going as I cross campus, doing everything I can to avoid the gazes of strangers who seem to think they know me. Carter called me rude? Somebody needs to talk to these people about how they have no problem openly staring at someone, snickering—the whole nine yards. That is rude. Not to mention totally unnecessary. What have I ever done to them?

What have I ever done to him? The child. The spoiled, self-centered infant. He can’t stand someone not immediately bowing down and kissing his feet just because he decided they were worthy of a conversation, so he has to lash out and act like a prick. The only reason he was nice to me this morning was to make his dad happy, obviously.

When I didn’t play along, it only irked him worse than ever. Poor baby. I hope his friends soothe his bruised ego.

I can’t believe he has any friends. But then, if everyone else at school is as mean and unoriginal as the people I’ve run into so far today, I guess there’s a chance. These people have nothing better to do than go out of their way to make someone feel less-than. Whatever happened to people minding their own business?

I’ve reached the parking lot when the sight of two girls hanging out near Carter’s black truck makes me slow down. The impulse to back away is almost too tempting. Maybe I can get out of here before they notice me. Even if they’re only hanging out to say hi to Carter again—I’d rather swallow my own tongue, but there’s no accounting for taste—I can’t imagine they would be much nicer than anybody else has been today. I walk slowly the rest of the way, passing one car after another, hoping they will leave before I reach them.

As if my luck has ever gone that way. The curly-haired blonde girl notices me first, nudging her friend before murmuring something that makes her look my way over the roofs of the cars between us. I can’t tell if they’re grinning to be friendly or because they’re looking forward to being bitches. Since I’m not sure what they’re all about, I stick to giving them a short nod before reaching them. Even then, I leave a little space between us.

“Hi. Are you Elliana?” The girl with the curly hair gives me a wave since we are too far apart to shake hands. “I’m Maya, and this is Wren. We’re friends of Carter’s.”

I’m sorry to hear that.I do my best to give them a tiny smile, and even that is almost painful. I’m out of practice.

“How was your first day of class?” Wren asks. She has big, hopeful eyes that shine my way. Are they for real? Is this a big setup?

What I wouldn’t give to be able to take them at face value, to believe they have good intentions. But if they’re friends withCarter, they can’t be much different than he is, right? For all I know, he put them up to it, either to get me off his hands or to make me even more miserable. Either way, I am not in the mood.

I really wish they would stop looking at me the way they are, staring at me like it actually matters whether or not I say anything. I can’t imagine they honestly care. Why would they? Since it’s pretty clear they expect something from me and they’re not going to stop until they get it, I lift a shoulder while shifting my backpack. “It was fine.”

Please, God, let this stop.

“Great. What do you have this semester?” Maya asks.

Did I die? Is this hell? “Oh, today I had Psych, Calculus, and Literature.”

“That’s a pretty long day,” Wren muses. When I sneak a glance at her from under my lashes, she looks sympathetic. “Why don’t you come out with us and unwind a little?”

“Yeah!” Maya agrees enthusiastically. “We could go grab an iced coffee in town, maybe walk around a little, show you where things are?”

“Because you’re not from around here, are you?” Wren prompts. “I remember Carter saying something about you and your mom being from out of town.”

I’m sure that’s not all he said. I’m sure he has plenty of opinions. Just the thought of him makes my face go hot, though my sweater isn’t really helping things either. Pushing up the sleeves, I fight to find something to say. I have to fight for every word as it is—I’m always sure that whatever I choose will be the wrong thing. You would think enough years pass for a person to start forgetting being laughed at every time they open their mouth in class, but you would be wrong.

I still hear every snicker and laugh. I still see every dirty look. If I went to high school with these girls, they would bewhispering about me right now, their heads bent together, hands in front of their faces. Like that makes it any easier to be laughed at.

“Really, I have to finish unpacking,” I tell them, which isn’t really a lie.

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