Divine Vices (17 page)

When
Ian and I pulled into the school parking lot, he was immediately flagged down
by Mr. Hopkins.

“I’ll
catch up with you in a few,” he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Have fun getting the full lowdown from Gwen about her time with Jeff last
night.”

“Yeah,
can’t wait,” I said dryly.

We
both climbed out of the car and parted ways. I headed towards the front of the
building to meet Gwen, who had painted the entire entrance with Homecoming
flyers telling everyone to vote for King and Queen.

“As
if anyone could forget?” I remarked upon arrival.

“It’s
not so much of a reminder as it is an aid to get everyone in the spirit of
things,” she said cheerfully.

I
grabbed the last few flyers that had yet to be posted and pinned them on the
wall as well.

“So,
have you made a decision about who you’ll be taking?” asked Gwen.

“Still
sorting through my options,” I replied.

“Really?
I thought for sure you would have already landed on a certain red-hot,
blue-eyed Casanova.”

I
pinched my lips together to resist a peculiar smile that crept too quickly to
the surface to suppress.

The
corner of Gwen’s gaze caught my attire, and almost immediately, her fullest
attention was upon me.

“Interesting
fashion trend you’re sporting today,” she said curiously. “Isn’t that the top
you wore yesterday?”

I
looked down at myself and shrugged.

“And,
correct me if I’m mistaken, but aren’t those men’s pants?” she further
insisted.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.
My. God.”

I
looked sideways to see Gwen’s mouth dropped down as far as it could go. “You
want me to throw you a fish or something? Stop looking at me like that.”

“Did
you sleep with Jack?!” she whispered, pulling me in closely so that no one else
around could hear.

“What?!
No!” I said, jerking away from her. “What would make you think that?”

“Hello!
You’re re-wearing your shirt from yesterday, and you’re prancing about in
boyfriend jeans! Sounds to me like you didn’t go home last night,” said Gwen.

“No,
I didn’t,” I admitted. “But relax, okay. The jeans are Ian’s.”

“You
slept with Ian?!” Gwen blurted out shockingly, all attempts at discretion
flying out the window.

“No,
megaphone-mouth!” I sneered, dragging her away from some of the judgmental eyes
belonging to several of the masses of students flocking in the main foyer. “I
got locked out of my house last night, so I slept
over
at Ian’s. And he
was kind enough to lend me a pair of pants.”

“And,
pray tell, what happened to yours?”

“His
mom accidentally threw them in the washer this morning.”

“And
why weren’t you wearing pants?” she further interrogated.

“You
ever try sleeping in skinny jeans? Not easy,” I said.

“Did
you sleep in his bed?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,
really? A damsel who's pant-less and in bed with a man... Yeah, it’s hard to
put those clues together,” remarked Gwen.

“He
wasn’t there with me. He slept downstairs.”

“Hey,”
said Ian tentatively to me upon arrival. “Can I ask why everyone thinks you and
I slept together last night?”

“What?!
Where did you hear that?”

“Twitter,”
he said, pulling out his cell.

“I
can’t believe this,” I said, turning around and banging my head against a
locker door. “Not even sixty seconds, and I’ve gone viral.”

“Again,
why?” asked Ian.

Without
hesitation, I pointed my finger at Gwen.

“Meyer,
what the hell did you do?” demanded Ian.

“Hey,
don’t blame me,” declared Gwen. “None of this would’ve happened if she’d just
kept her pants on.”

“What?
I am so lost right now,” said Ian, just as the second bell rang.

“I
only wish I could be. Meyer, you’re gonna be running damage control for the
rest of the day,” I said, dragging myself off the locker and proceeding to
class.

Despite
my best efforts to focus on the lesson plan, the hushed nattering and cell
phone vibrating, along with direct pointing and condemnatory stares, it was
hard to ignore the fact that I was now the topic of the hour. If there was ever
the time for some delinquent burnout to pull the fire alarm or a
fraternity-wannabe to go streaking down the hallways, I prayed that it was
today. What I would give to become a wallflower again...

“Could
I be excused to the ladies’ room?” I asked Mr. Rothenberg the moment he issued
us our assignments.

He
nodded and handed me the lavatory pass.

“You
gonna hookup in the bathroom?” cracked a commentator from the back.

“Quiet,
everybody,” Mr. Rothenberg said, turning his attention to wiping down the
chalkboard.

Vincent
Pierce puckered his lips at me, identifying himself as the pundit. With a sharp
glare, I headed out the door.

I
wearily walked the hallways, wanting nothing more than to find solace, even if
it was just for a few minutes. So, of course, as soon as I rounded the corner,
I had to run into Jack, who was leaning contentedly on the wall beside a
vending machine.

“Well,
look who it is,” he said, his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges.

“Aren’t
you supposed to be in class?”

“Mr.
Hopkins didn’t even notice I left. Coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“I’m
not in the mood,” I said.

“Don’t
tell me you’re letting these clowns get to you,” Jack cracked.

“What?
You’re not jumping on the
Cassie’s-a-harlot
bandwagon?” I quipped.

“Harlot’s
a strong word for one suspected encounter,” he smirked.

I
rolled my eyes and walked passed him.

“Oh,
come on, lighten up,” he said, following after me. “You seriously think I’d buy
into you and Ian hooking up?”

“‘Ian
and you,’” I corrected. “And why not? Everyone else has already passed
judgment.”

“Because
you’re not the hook-up type, and you definitely wouldn’t be dating him.”

“You
know, that’s what I thought at first. Nothing about the past two months I’ve
been here would suggest the kind of temperament for a hookup, that is until you
showed up,” I said. “You come walking through those doors, and now I’m suddenly
labeled as another one of your trollops who, apparently, is now getting it
anywhere she can.”

Jack
laughed outright. “This is my fault, huh?”

“When
it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, I can damn well guarantee that
it’s not a howler monkey. Word of mouth about our imaginary exploits must be
illustriously explicit for anyone to buy into the idea that a reserved,
straight-A, committee-working student would abandon all her principles to give
in to her baser, animalistic instincts,” I remarked.

“So,
you admit that you have a visceral nature?” Jack asked impishly.

“Can
you take anything seriously?” A light bulb unexpectedly turned on in my head,
registering the last bit of his initial remark. “What did you mean that there’s
no way that I could be dating Ian?”

The
thick smirk on Jack’s face never subsided. “No offense to Callaghan, but he
hasn’t got a chance in hell.”

“Excuse
me?”

“It’s
not just him. No guy does,” Jack confirmed. “You have your walls built up so
high that planes have to redirect when approaching your airspace just avoid
hitting them.”

An
atypical combination of anger and amusement burned in the back of my throat,
and I out-and-out sneered at him. “And that makes you what exactly? A masochist?”

Surprisingly,
he did not respond. He simply continued to look at me with his unceasing smile.

“Ahh,”
I replied rather wickedly, “I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve spent the last
seventeen years sailing through, claiming every conquest you land your ambitions
upon with minimal effort, until now. At first, my resistance enticed you
because you thought it would only make victory taste all the more sweet. But
now, you’re faced with the dilemma of having to admit that you’ve reached an
impasse with me. Instead of moving on to an easier target, like Stacy, you
thrive off the only unrequited desire you’ve ever felt.”

Jack
smirked. “And you honestly think someone like Callaghan would be able to handle
that fiery temper of yours?”

I
immediately headed into the washroom on the opposite side of the hall,
wordlessly stating the end of our conversation.

“Relax,”
he said, following in after me. “I’m not here to give you a hard time.”

“Given
past history, not to mention your complete lack of boundaries, I doubt that,” I
countered, pointing at the image of a stick figure wearing a dress that was
mounted at the top of the doorway. “Girls’ room. Get out.”

“Why
are you letting these people get to you? I know you well enough to know that
you’re thicker skinned than this.”

“Let’s
just get something straight,” I snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about
me, so before you go all philosophical, telling me what I think or how I should
act, I’m telling you now to shove off.”

I
grabbed hold of his bicep and tried to pull him toward the doorway, which given
our some-eighty pound difference didn’t present much of an argument.

“Please,”
I said, my tone dropping to the point that it almost sounded like I was
begging. “Just leave.”

He
laughed. “Why can’t you just admit you like me?”

“Because
I’m not an idiot.”

“I
see. So only those of low intelligence belong with me. Fitting.”

“Oh,
don’t act like I just wounded your pride. You know exactly what I mean. I
prefer to know that when I wake up in the morning to an empty bed, it’s because
there was no one else there the night prior. Not because some schmuck climbed
out the window after his conquest.”

“And
now you’re insulting my bedside manner? How uncouth of you,” he cracked,
looking down at my hand.

I
suddenly realized that I was still in possession of his bicep.

“You
want to take that with you as a keepsake?”

“I’ve
had enough shit happened to me lately, and the last thing I am is naïve. I
don’t wish to invite trouble into my life, and you, sweetheart, are every bit
deserving of the label,” I said, practically throwing his arm back at him.

“Sweetheart,
huh? I have to say, for a girl who is pledging celibacy from the likes of me,
you certainly have a funny way of showing it. Tell me, why is it that you, a
branded introvert, suddenly seems to exude this... peculiar sense of sexual
prowess in my presence? Because not a single other guy in the whole of New
Haven could attest to the same treatment.”

“I
think you’re mistaking prowess with irritability, and no one else here has ever
irked me nearly as much as you have,” I countered. “Now, could you do me the
immense pleasure by leaving?”

“Admit
you like me first,” he said, moving in closer.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because
it serves no purpose.”

“You
really think I’m going to give up that easily? It’s only been a few days, which
is actually quite promising given my ascending position. Being considered one
of the most despised people to have ever crossed paths with you, only then to
garner the title of
regrettable interest
is hope in itself.”

My
blood boiled as my throat burned with the words my tongue was preparing to fire
out unremittingly, until Stacy’s cousin, Alicia, walked into the restroom with
a happily bewildered expression.

“My,
my, my,” she said, twisting her frosted blonde locks around her finger. “What
do we have here?”

“Nothing,”
I said.

“That’s
not what it looks like from where I’m standing,” she replied in fiendish
delight, slowly backing away. “See you two later, on page one.”

She
ducked out and I looked up at Jack furiously, who was beaming from ear to ear.

“I’m
gonna kill you,” I sneered.

“Why?”
he laughed.

“Gee,
I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she’ll start
another salacious rumor about me.”

“Two
men in one day. Well done, introvert.”

I
unapologetically punched him in the arm.

“Cassie?”
echoed a voice from the hall.

Not
ten seconds later did Gwen come into the restroom.

“Holy
cheese and crackers!” she blurted. “Are you serious?!”

“I
take it you ran into Alicia?” I said, pushing passed Jack.