Double Time (3 page)

Read Double Time Online

Authors: Julie Prestsater

Tags: #High School

David removes his tongue from my mouth and gives me a few more quick pecks before pulling away. I’m too chicken to break David’s stare.


Dang, Dave,” I hear Steve say, shaking me from my trance.

I look around. Keesh and Steph are staring at me. Steph has her hand over her mouth. Keesh’s mouth is hanging wide open. But Travis…he’s gone. Both he
and
Josh are gone.

I fight the urge to run after him and apologize. Why should I? He wasn’t even supposed to be here. I should be able to kiss David and enjoy it. Not feel guilty. Damn Travis for making me feel this way. Damn David for not being a better kisser so Travis wouldn’t matter.

Damn Travis for getting me a Diet Coke.

Three

 

 

 

The first day of school has always been a pain in the ass for me, and why would my junior year be any different? I can hear Lydia slamming on the horn outside as I run around my room, shoving a notebook, my wallet, and brush into my backpack.


I can’t believe you woke up late again this year,” my mother says, shaking her head, standing in my doorway.

Grabbing my flip flops, I mumble to her on my way out, “And I can’t believe you let me for the third year in a row.”

Running outside barefoot, with dripping hair, I almost trip and fall coming down my front steps, but I balance myself in time. My bag falls to the ground, I yank it up over my shoulder, and finally reach the car.

Keesh slides over as Steph flips up the seat so I can get in.


Remind us next year to give you a wakeup call,” Steph says, taking my bag from my hand. “Or two.”

I fall back into the seat with a sigh, and I’m sweating. Whoever came up with the idea to start school in the sweltering heat of August is a dumb ass. It’s already in the low 80s at seven in the morning, and I’m melting like a popsicle.


Looks like your first day of school is off to a great start, Megster,” Lydia says, eyeballing me in her rear-view mirror.


Whatever,” I respond. Slapping on my shoes first, I then dig in my bag for my brush and a clip to salvage my hair. Thankfully, I selected my “first day” clothes last night or who knows what I would’ve walked out with. As crappy as my hair is going to look by the end of the day, I’m confident my cute outfit will make up for it. A Run DMC shirt—made into a tank—black shorts, and a denim cropped vest. I had to layer since my top morphed into something a little more revealing than our school dress code will allow. I love the ensemble, if I do say so myself.

 


Let’s do this,” Keesh shouts when the car screeches to a halt in the student parking lot.


Next time, you guys are walking.” Lydia groans. “I can’t be seen here every day when I’ve already graduated. So anticlimactic to come back. I do have a life, you know.”

We ignore her comment, hoping she’ll take it back. None of us are interested in hoofing it to school for eleventh grade.


Thanks, Lydia,” we all tell her.

As we cross the parking lot, Josh and Travis are getting out of a car. Josh drove them. Damn it. They suck.


Hey, ladies,” Josh says, stretching his arms overhead. He yawns. “I’m ready to go back to sleep. Tell me I’m not the only one who didn’t want to wake up this morning.”

Steph giggles. “No, Meggie overslept again.”

He tousles my wet hair and laughs. Yeah, yeah. I’m always the joke.

Travis struts around the side of the car toward us.


Are you kidding me?” I shout at him.


Are you kidding me?” he shouts back.


I told you I was wearing this shirt on the first day.”


No, you didn’t.”

I take a step closer to him. “Well, you better change.”


Into what, Megan?” He closes the gap between us, staring me down.


Never mind,” I mutter, turning to walk away. “Just don’t come near me for the rest of the day.”


Fine by me,” he yells.

Travis and I went shopping several times throughout the summer. It never occurred to me he’d wear the same Run DMC shirt as me on the first day of school. Sure, we bought them together but wearing them on the same day? On the first day of school? I still can’t believe it.

Maybe I should ditch first and run home to change.

But I love this outfit.

 

Steph and I head to English while Keesh goes to pre-calculus. I have three classes with each of them. I’m crossing my fingers I don’t run into Amy. And now I’m hoping I don’t see Travis either. Last night I couldn’t fall asleep—my mind was so consumed with thoughts of him. I was counting on seeing him in at least one class today, so we could finally chat.

Travis has completely cut me off since the day of the pool party. It’s been a week and I haven’t talked to him. Not even once. I tried calling him when we got our class schedules but he didn’t answer. And he won’t text me back. He’s being a total brat.

This entire summer, we didn’t go an hour without talking to each other. Well, besides sleeping. And now, nine whole days. Up until a few minutes ago, I was dying to see him.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’ve missed Travis. That is, until I discovered we’re wearing matching outfits.

He did look pretty damn good in that shirt though. White, with black letters, and a red stripe across the top and bottom. Black shorts, black socks, and all black Vans. With a new haircut, his short blonde hair was all gelled up. Pretty dang hot, not that I noticed or anything.

The bell is about to ring and there’s no sign of him. Steph and I sit in the middle of the classroom, quietly chatting with other students around us. We all know each other since we’ve been taking the same courses together for pretty much our entire educational careers. Eric plops himself behind me.


Dang, Meg, what did you do to Travis? I accidentally bumped into him and he wanted to kick my ass. He looks pissed.” Eric hunches over his desk to whisper.

I turn back toward him and shrug. “Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


Hey, isn’t he wearing that same shirt?” He points to mine. “Did you guys plan that? I thought you weren’t together,” Eric rambles on.


We’re not,” I sit forward in my seat and ignore him for the rest of the period.

We don’t do much except write a five-paragraph essay about our summer vacation, while our teacher deals with schedule changes and phone calls. I pray the rest of the day is this easy.

 

Second period math—pre-calculus—and the coast is still clear. No Travis.


Who you looking for?” Steph asks.

I look around again. “Nobody.”


Yeah, right,” she says. “You can’t avoid him all day, Meggie. You may as well talk to him. I know you miss him.”


Who?” I ask, smiling.

Steph raises a brow at me, smiling too. “You know who.”

Our teacher starts passing out a syllabus before the bell rings. I take this as a sign we’re supposed to pipe down already. Not that we’re being loud. Steph and I are whispering. Like I want anyone to hear my business. Especially anything about me missing someone.

Just when I start to calm down, relieved Travis isn’t going to be in my math class either, Amy saunters through the door.

All five feet six inches—I’m guessing—of her. She’s looks even taller in her cheer uniform. The tiny flyaway skirt just barely grazes the top of her thigh exposing more skin than a nude beach. Looks more like a belt than a skirt. And I was worried about dress code. Apparently, school rules don’t apply to the cheer squad.


Down, girl.” Steph squeezes my hand. “Relax, okay?”

I’m relaxed. What’s she talking about? As if I’m still bothered by the fact our awesome threesome was once a foursome and Amy was the last part of the quad. Until she ruined it by screwing Eric’s brains out. That was freshman year. Eric was my boyfriend, and they slept together. Multiple times. She tries to justify it by saying I stole her boyfriend. Yeah, right. Alex and I never once hooked up when they were together. Sure, we finally became a couple, but that wasn’t until after they broke up. She can come up with a million excuses why she and Eric weren’t in the wrong and not one of those million would work. I’ll never forgive her. And I will not put up with her any more than I have to. You won’t see us acting all buddy-buddy anytime soon.

What kills me is how much of a bitch she is to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. It was her. All her. And yet she acts like I’m the one who fucked
her
boyfriend. Whatever. She can kiss my ass.

As she passes my desk, she glares down at me, practically snarling.

Rumor is she’s been getting around. Unfortunately for her, people talk at our school like it’s everyone’s right to know everyone’s business. So every time this summer, when she hooked up with a different guy, the news made it back to us. I don’t get why she’s screwing everyone and anyone with a dick right now. She’s going to end up with a disease. I know she regrets doing it with Eric, so why does she keep doing it with anyone who’s willing? Just because she gave it up once doesn’t mean she has to keep offering up the goods.

I can’t help but utter, “Choo choo,” as she passes me. All aboard the Amy train. Hop on, hop off. Step right up and take your turn. I feel guilty before I’m even done making the sound.

Steph snorts with laughter. Our math teacher tries to shush us, but now I can’t help laughing.

Great. It’s our first day and we’re already going to be in trouble.

 

Steph and I make it out of math, scraping by with a warning. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll be good. No chugga chugga choo choo noises or bursts of laughter. I definitely don’t want the teacher to change our seats. With my luck, I’d have to spend another year in math sitting next to the worst friend known to mankind. Again. Or worse, I could get sent to Mrs. Flores for counseling. On second thought, I’d rather chat with the shrink every day than sit next to Amy.

We part ways and I veer off to the science building for chemistry with Keesha, while Steph goes to history. Thankfully, chem is uneventful. It’s just Keesh and me. No unwanted ex-friends or ex-boyfriends. And our teacher is all right. Going over the course syllabus and lab safety is standard. No homework is assigned, so my workload is light tonight. So far anyway. The bell rings and the quad floods with students as we trample off to our next classes.

 

When we get to the ASB (associated student body) room—the place where all the school festivities are planned—Steph is already there. Keesh and I toss our bags down next to her and sit.

A smile that could eclipse the sun spreads over Keesh’s face.


Someone is looking giddy,” I tell her. “Did I miss something?”


How’s Mr. Marino?” Steph asks Keesh.

Her smile widens. “As fine as can be.” She waggles her brows. “This is going to be one hot year,” Keesh says, fanning herself for dramatic effect. “I’ve been dying to get you both together to talk about it.”


You know he’s off limits, right?” Steph tells her.

Keesh waves her off. “Pshh. Yes, mummy, I know. Besides, he has a new girlfriend.”


What? What happened to Ms. Gelson?”


He dumped her for Ms. McG.”

Both Steph and I gasp. “How do you know?” I ask.


I heard Ms. McG talking crap about Ms. G, saying he better not even talk to her at work or he wasn’t getting any.”


You’re totally making this up,” Steph says, shaking her head.


Okay, she didn’t say it in those words exactly but it was something like that.”

Frowning, I think about my favorite teacher. “Poor Ms. Gelson, she’s probably heartbroken.”


I can’t wait to hear what she says.” Keesh is practically drooling. “Keep your ears open, Meggie. Maybe we can get them back together. I don’t like my man being all hugged up with that fake tanned, washed up bikini model.”


Washed up? I hope I look that good when I’m her age,” I say. “Remember the dance last year? That black dress had all the guys gawking the entire night. She looked amazing.”


Whatever. Ms. McGallian can kiss my black ass.”

Mr. Mitchell rings his bell, and our banter is silenced.


I thought it would be fun to start off this year with a little ice breaker. With a class this size, it’s hard to get to know each other, so let’s make it happen.”

When he rings the bell again, everyone jumps to their feet and starts chatting with the person next to them. Our task is to meet each class member, write down their name, find out something about them, and get their signature on our paper. There are fifty students in our class. This is going to take a while.

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