Page 22 of Her Alien Matchmaker
Emory Watson, one of Callahan High School’s most popular girls—and my number one enemy—never misses an opportunity to cut me down.I don’t know why, but she’s delighted in my torment since kindergarten.I shouldn’t let it get under my skin, but sometimes it can’t be helped.I’ve never known anyone more hateful—or bitchy.
Don’t do anything drastic,I chide myself.If I go to the principal’s office one more time, Mamma’s going to have a heart attack or ground me forever—probably both.
“Come on, ladies,” Emory titters, and her voice lowers, reminding me of a purring cat toying with a mouse.“We don’t want to stand too close to this loser—she might rub off on us.”
“Good riddance,” I mumble, relaxing my shoulders.
It’s the end of the day—Friday, thank God—and lockers bang shut in the hallway.Other voices echo throughout the corridor, creating a constant thrum of sound.Sweat, fruity perfumes, and the faint whiff of pot slides through the air.A few arms jostle me in passing.Some students call out good-natured insults to one another; others speak in excited tones and share plans for the coming weekend.
Me?I don’t have any, but I’m ecstatic to get away from all these douchebags.
“Hey, Tilly.”From the other side of my open locker door, Maximillian Jacobsen raps his knuckles on the metal, then jerks a wireless bud from my ear.
“Stop that.”Yanking it from his fingers, I refocus on loading my bag.What the hell does he want?Known as our school’s troublemaker and all-around bad boy, he doesn’t usually deign to talk to people like me.
“What’re you doing this weekend?”He tosses a blue stress ball into the air and catches it, leaning around the door and peering into the depths of my locker.A strong whiff of expensive cologne wafts my way.
“Do you mind?”I wave at the air and shoulder him out of the way.
“Not usually.”He smiles wickedly.“So, weekend plans?Yay or nay?”The overhead fluorescent lights catch on a small, silver stud in his earlobe.
“No.”Why in the world is he interested in my plans?“Why?You robbing a store and need a lookout?”
“Hmm.”The ball bounces against my head and he snatches it back.“You offering?”
“What?No.”Pinching my eyebrows inward, I still and search his face.What’s his game?He’s never said more than five words to me before, and they were usually“Get out of my way.”
His blue eyes shine.Dark brown hair slides across his forehead and into his vision.Day-old stubble covers his chin.Pushing himself closer, he forces me a couple of inches to the side.
“Dude, if you don’t step back, I’m gonna bust you in the nuts.”I try to ignore him and continue searching the catastrophe inside my locker.
The ball hits the back of my head and I count to ten and grind my teeth.
“So, you going to the dance tomorrow?”Pop.
Is that what this is about?
“Do Ilooklike I want to go to the dance?”With the meanest glare I can muster, I elbow against his body and concentrate on which books I need for weekend homework.
It might be kind of nice to go, but I’ll never know because it’s almost the end of high school, and then I’m out of this crappy, busybody town.
“No, you don’t seem like the dancing-type of gal, which is why I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow.”An amused smile tugs at his lips.“If you get bored, I actually do need a partner in crime.”With one last soft thump of the ball against my temple, he saunters away, retro wallet chain swinging from his hip and black biker boots clomping down the hallway.
Shaking my head, I let out a breath and dig through papers.That was so freaking weird.
Something sharp pokes me in the shoulder.He must’ve forgotten something.
“Max, leave me alone.I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Several females chuckle.
I clench the strap of my backpack, now sitting on the bottom of the locker.Those giggles mean one thing: Emory Watson and her pack of laughing hyenas have returned.
Ignoring what was probably her long, manicured fingernail digging into my skin, I zip the bag closed and focus on breathing deep, cleansing breaths.
“Oh, poor little Tilly.”A high chuckle.“No one invited you to the Spring Dance.So sad.”
Grabbing a handle, I pivot to face her and the trio of sycophants.
