"Dylan, I'm really sorry I just-"
"No, Cassie," he said holding up his hand to cut off my apology. It was the Thursday after our fight. I had been thinking of a whole speech for him every second since we basically had a screaming match at Burt's. Well, when I wasn't thinking about Joey's cryptic 'first date' stunt, that is.
"I'm the one who should be apologizing," he continued, "I was a total dick to you and I'm really, really sorry. Can we promise to never fight like that again?" I smiled. I had my Dylan back. The warm, non-jealous dork I called my best friend. I had planned on him giving me the cold should for a few more days, but I was honestly glad I didn't have to fight with him again. I might have been a drama queen, but if being a drama queen meant losing him, then it wasn't worth it.
"Yeah, I think that can be arranged," I replied. Dylan's seafoam green eyes brightened.
"Great!" he said, turning to leave for first period.
"Um, Dyl?" I shifted my weight nervously. He whipped around just as the bell rang, "Does Jaime hate me?" He shot me a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me face.
"Of course not," he stated, "I told her what happened as soon as she came back. She wasn't happy we had fought, but I took her home. Don't worry, okay?" I nodded, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Things were finally getting back to the way they were supposed to be.
-oOo-
"Okay, everyone," Mr. Williams said after yet another West Side rehearsal, "I know you all are excited for homecoming this weekend, so I've decided to cancel tomorrow's Friday night rehearsal." A chorus of cheers filled the auditorium. "Settle down," he continued, "I know most of you will be attending the annual homecoming bonfire tomorrow anyways, so have fun, be safe, all that jazz. Dismissed!"
I gathered my books silently. Jaime had gone home early for a dentist appointment, so I'd be driving home alone again. I wasn't the least bit worried about the status of our relationship though. She had assured me at lunch that she was in no way angry at me.
"Hello Cassandra," I heard a voice from behind me coo. I rolled my eyes.
"Don't call me that, Joey," I said snippily, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
"Hey, come on, I thought we were friends now?" he replied, his brown eyes softening. I felt my heart thumping in my chest.
"Well, I don't exactly know what we are," I stated coldly, "Complicated, I guess. What do you want?"
"I just wanted to know if you were going to the bonfire tomorrow," he said innocently as we walked out of the auditorium and into the parking lot. Thankfully my brother was nowhere in sight.
"I have to set up for the dance," I replied, "SGA responsibilities."
"Yeah, but you guys always finish early," he persisted, taking out his keys, "The bonfire isn't until 7. You should really try to make it."
"Okay, why do you even care?" I snapped, becoming more and more irritated, "Why do you of all people give a damn whether I'm at some stupid bonfire or not?!" He furrowed his brow.
"I don't," he stated defiantly, "Sorry I even brought it up." His tone could not have been more bitter. I watched as he got into his truck and sped away, feeling oddly guilty for snapping at him.
You can't be serious! my inner voice shouted, He's been an asshole to you for years! Now all of a sudden he deserves your sympathy? No fucking way!
Still, as I drove home, I couldn't help but think about how strange Joey had been acting ever since school started. Ever since I had moved to this town, he had either been indifferent towards me or tormenting me with my moronic stepbrother. Did he enjoy toying with my emotions and making me insane? Was he even aware that he was acting completely mercurial and inconsistent towards me? As if my feelings for him personally weren't confused enough, playing the love of his life in a musical that opened little more than three months didn't make matters any better.
When I got home, my dad was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the latest issue of Sports Illustrated. His lawyer attire was perfectly pressed, and his salt-and-pepper hair was gelled back, just like it always was.
"Hey, Squirt!" he said playfully as I dropped my bag. His gray eyes danced youthfully, as if he wasn't a middle aged man in a high stress job.
"Hi, Dad," I replied, deadpanned. I loved my dad more than anyone, but over the past few years we had grown apart, and I knew why: Mom.
Ever since my mother passed away and he remarried, I always felt as if there was this wedge between us. Don't get me wrong, Cerina and my dad were great for each other, but ever since they met, it's like I wasn't even there. It aggravated me that, in the rare chance that we did talk, he would act like it was the good old days again.
"How was school today?" he asked, setting down his cup, "And rehearsal?"
"Both were fine," I said, pressing my lips together, "The show is really coming along well."
"That's fantastic, honey!" he said, "I've always known my girl would be a big star." He turned back to his magazine when Cerina floated through the door, looking perfect as always. I decided to retreat to my room to avoid talking to both of them at the same time.
"Uh, I think I'm gonna go run my lines," I said, glancing at my stepmother, "Hi, Cerina." She gave me a fluttery wave and set her bag down on the kitchen floor. I bolted up the stairs and slammed the door. I may act like I'm the shit, but not around my dad. To him, I barely existed.
-oOo-
"You want to do what?"
"Look, J, it's really not that big of a deal," I said, hanging what seemed like the millionth decoration onto the gym wall, "I'm merely suggesting we go to the bonfire for, like, a half hour or so, and then leave. What's so crazy about that?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that the only people that go there are freshmen, student government officers, and the popular people," she sneered, "Why do you even want to go, anyways?"
"I don't know," I said, trailing off, "I mean, it could be fun." Jaime raised an eyebrow suspiciously. I continued to tape the stupid tacky cardboard cutout onto the concrete wall. This year's theme was 'Midnight Masquerade', so the gym was covered in varying colors of flimsy mask cutouts, along with some 2-D wooden buildings that the art department made. They looked vaguely European, not that anyone at homecoming cared. They were all just excited they could wear masks.
"Cassie, this isn't about Joey, is it?" Jaime inquired, "Because you guys have hated each other since basically the dawn of time. Plus he's an asshole."
"Joey Richter?" I scoffed, as if she had suggested we go to a Justin Bieber concert, "Get real, Jaime. I just figured, you know, since I'm class VP, that I'd start actually showing up to school functions." Jaime opened her mouth in protest, but immediately clammed up. She knew I had used her own words against her.
"Fine," she pouted, "But only a few minutes."
"De Luca!" a voice called from the other side of the gym. It was Brian Rosenthal, our fearless class president and other best friend to Joey Richter. He was holding a clipboard, standing around while the rest of us did actual work. Typical.
"What, Brian?" I said, making no effort to cover my annoyance. He rolled his eyes.
"I need you to get the tablecloths and confetti from Baker's room, ASAP," he said, reading off his stupid clipboard. I felt like grabbing those big ears of his and tying them to a telephone pole. That mental picture made me happier than I expected.
"You have two legs, why don't you just get them yourself," I hissed. He ran his fingers through his short, brown hair in frustration.
"Look, just do it," he ordered. I raised an eyebrow, "Please?"
"Fine, Your Highness," I said, bowing sarcastically. A few freshman gawked at me, but I couldn't care less. I sauntered out of the gym and up the stairs to Mrs. Baker's room. The hallways were obviously empty, but I always had this weird, eerie feeling when I walked the halls alone. I turned the corner and ran into someone, our bodies colliding. I got knocked to the floor, hitting the hard linoleum with a thud.
"Oh fu-" I caught myself, in the off-chance I had run into was a teacher working late, "I mean, I'm sorry."
"Oh, using our manners, aren't we, De Luca?" I felt my cheeks get red-hot as I brushed myself off.
"Are you stalking me or something, Richter?" I said, getting up, "Because I will get a restraining order if necessary." He chuckled pretentiously, causing me to grow angrier.
"I'm actually here because I was helping Williams and the tech kids build the set," he replied, "I was just bringing the paint and brushes up to his room before the bonfire." I eyed him skeptically, noticing a few stray blotches of paint on his t-shirt and shorts. "So, your little dance setup is going well?"
"Yes," I mumbled, "We're almost done. I was actually, um, thinking of stopping at the bonfire for a few minutes." Instantly Joey's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"N-Nothing," he stuttered, his voice shooting up several octaves. He cleared his throat as I stifled a laugh, "I just, uh, didn't expect you to actually want to go."
"I don't," I replied, deadpanned, "But, I am class vice president. I have an obligation to the student body to attend school events."
"Spoken like a true politician," he laughed, "But you don't have to make excuses. I know you're going because of me." I snorted a laugh, feeling anger rise up inside me. "What?"
"You know, the world doesn't revolve around you," I snapped, "and this bi-polar shit you're pulling is really getting old. I want to try and get along with you Joey, but being your friend is really hard when I don't know where I stand!"
I spun on my heel to walk away, but Joey grabbed my arm. I whipped my head around, livid.
"What the fuck are you do-?"
Before I could even finish my sentence, he spun me around, grabbed my waist, and kissed me. I was taken aback, and for a moment I considered pulling away and punching him in that stupid jaw of his myself. But then I felt how soft his lips were, how perfectly they fit onto mine. How they moved together in synchronicity. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
ABORT, ABORT, ABORT, my brain screamed, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE FUCKING DOING?!??!!
Immediately I pulled away, still feeling the tingle of his lips and minty fresh breath. I looked at him, shocked. I had no clue what to say or do, just like the first time he kissed me at that god-forsaken party.
"That," he said, smirking, "is where you stand, De Luca."
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Well, it's been a long time since I've ended a chapter in a cliffhanger, hasn't it?
*maniacal laughter*
like, comment, all that jazz
Natalie, you know the drill
-Maria