Page 41 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Why the heck is Cammy banding together with the girl we alleged did her hair with a weed whacker? I mean, I get why Rochelle would buddy up with her. Anyone can see the benefit of gossiping with Cammy and possibly avoiding her verbal attacks.
But does Rochelle know it’s only a possibility? Is she aware Cammy could turn on her at any moment? Me, I’m counting on it. I want the possibility of Cammy bringing me back to her side. But I’m not deluding myself. Cammy set me up to sit without an ally and become her primary target. I can only hope that when we get to lunch, it’ll be a different story.
If my sanity can survive until then.
An exaggerated gasp shoots out of Cammy. “Oh my gosh, she’s not that bad.”
Giggling sounds beside her. I can’t help myself. I glance over my shoulder and find Rochelle leaning into Cammy with a cupped hand over her mouth. Her shoulders jiggle with her soft laughter.
I face forward and feel every nauseous ripple in my stomach. I swallow hard, commanding myself not to dry heave in the middle of freakinghealthclass.
As Cammy continues to make vague, soul-sucking comments behind my back, the hypocrisy bugs me the most. She spent chemistry pretending to be some kind of good girl. The second she’s out, she’s back to regular form.
Part of me wishes Mrs. Field would walk in right now. I’d jump up from my seat, point at Cammy, and scream, “Look! See! She’s not falling into line! She’s the same as always.”
My chest aches, and I let the dream dissolve.
That scenario might give me a nano-second of satisfaction. But swiftly, the repercussions would beat me down.
One, Mrs. Field reacts to me disrupting a classroomagain.
Two, Coach Oliver has me running something ridiculous like ten laps of the gym.
Three, Cammy will never forgive me and will torture me worse than I could imagine.
I look down at the gold charm bracelet she gave me. It’s like a shackle, keeping me tied to her. I’d take it off if it weren’t so dang pretty. Oh gosh, now I just feel sad when I look at it. It’s a reminder of one of Cammy’s good days. When she was actually the best friend I remember, before all the crap with her parents went down. The Cammy that bought me this bracelet can be kind and tons of fun.
Why won’t she come back?
There’s a cackle of laughter behind me, shooting prickles along my spine. I cross my arms and dig my manicured fingers into my elbows and focus on the pain. I focus on the sting in my jaw from biting down so hard. I focus on the headache burrowing deeper into my skull.
Pain is all I have.
It’s my one savior.
It’s my best distraction from whatever Cammy throws my way.
Oh Lord, I wanna get back in her good graces.
I want to be sitting beside her.
I want to be laughing with her.
It’s better than this.
Being by her side halves my fear.
9
Man,Ican’twaitto get out of this place. Unless I have an excuse to get out onto the soccer field, coming to this school is a monumental waste of time. Especially as I sit in my last class of the day; English.
Boooring.
Unintentionally, I snort. My brother sits on the other side of the classroom, diligently scanning an open page of King Lear. I don’t get how he is so invested in this Shakespeare nonsense. Most of the dialogue makes my brain hurt.
My gaze continues to wander, landing on Tabitha Jones. Just her curls make me shudder. I swear, I’ll have a full on convulsion if I hear her speak. Ms. Jenkins better not call on her to read aloud any lines from this stupid play. I may get up and walk out, detention be damned.
Okay, scratch that. Parker was talking about driving out to Logan’s Point after school. I could really use the thrill of standing out on Dead Left Cliff right about now. Man, that’d make this dull day a whole lot better.
