Old Wounds (16 page)

I woke up on Monday feeling foolishly excited to see Elliott. It made no sense for me to feel that way about a boy. I mean, yeah, he was incredibly good-looking and I could completely see myself banging the living shit out of him, but he was
too
nice. What the hell would I seriously do with a nice guy like him? Why the hell was I excited?

We watched one movie together, ate pizza, and listened to music, and now I was ready to…to what? It totally wasn’t me to be all puppy-dog with boys.

And when the hell had he become “Elliott” and not “Rusty Dalton?” I totally didn’t need to crush on Elliott Dalton of all people. I would just hurt him.

Jason was early as usual, and we clam-baked on the way to school. Smoking a joint with the windows rolled up tight got me really high. I was incredibly thankful to smoke his free pot.

I saw Elliott in the hallway before first period. His hair was shorter. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. For some reason, that small half-inch of hair being gone made me a little sad. It wasn’t long enough anymore to fall over his eyes when he looked down.

I watched him like I normally did, but as usual, he never looked up. It was better that way. If I saw his hazel eyes, I was sure that I would swoon like a silly little girl. I hated myself for having these feelings.

I needed something to numb them; to snuff them out. I didn’t want to feel this shit. I didn’t deserve to feel this shit.

Jason had told me that if I wanted something other than pot, Aiden Montgomery was the person to see. I knew of him. He was nice-looking; not a dirty hippie like Jason, and not quite a jock like Anderson. Apparently Aiden had been out on the Chesapeake Bay in the summer and was involved in a boating accident. He now had a plethora of pain pills at his disposal. Apart from that, he was Damascus’ resident hard drug dealer.

I hoped that by the weekend I’d be trippin’ balls. That would be all it took to get back to my regularly-scheduled life and forget about my “feelings” for Elliott.

The day sucked. The only class before lunch that was remotely interesting was Photography. Pinny Dalton and I developed our film in the darkroom together. She talked almost constantly about her boyfriend and how much she loved him, and then switched into how one day she wanted to be a professional photographer or a history teacher. She couldn’t decide. It was mind-numbing, but nice. I liked Pinny, despite her non-stop talking. She wasn’t too deep and she smiled at me like we were already old friends. Plus, she took my mind off all the stuff I didn’t want think about.

The post-lunch pot helped me not turn into a gooey mess in Horticulture. I was confronted by Elliott’s amazing eyes, but managed just give him a small nod instead of throwing myself at him.

He looked tired. I wanted to talk to him, but it was incredibly awkward. There was no privacy at school and what the hell would I have said anyway? Most of the class I just daydreamed about being somewhere else. I did my best to ignore that somehow I had managed to let Rusty Dalton get under my skin.

It was so messed up. I was so messed up. Sophie’s number one rule was to not let anyone in; especially idiotic high school boys.

But he wasn’t an idiot.

Damn. I needed to pull my head out of my ass.

Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster the bell rang and I could leave this den of torture and go to…well, to another den of torture – P.E. But at least there I could take out my aggression by being blatantly clumsy.

It was on Wednesday that I found the opportunity to talk with Aiden. I skipped Photography when I saw him in the hallway. All he did was smirk at me when I asked to talk to him privately.

We went out to his brand-new Escalade. The windows were tinted and I suspected that they were too dark to be legal. “So, what’s up, Sophie Young?”

I smiled at him, leaning back against the door. His olive skin offset the brightness of his eyes. “Jason doesn’t sell acid and I want some.” There was no need to dance around the topic. He had something I wanted.

His smile grew. “Are you a narc, Sophie?”

I huffed. “Of course not. Would Jason sell to me if I was?” He shrugged and I sighed again. “No, I’m not a narc.”

“Jason says you’re cool.”

“Then sell me some acid already.” He gave me another smirk. It was beginning to annoy me. This whole thing should’ve been pretty simple, just like going to Walmart. But there he was smirking at me like he couldn’t care less about the whole thing. “What?” I asked.

“Are you Fox’s girlfriend or what?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I was no one’s girlfriend; that was for sure. “No. Why? Do you have something against selling to girlfriends of Jason Fox?”

He shook his head. “Like he has enough game to get a girlfriend.”

Boys were morons. “He bones like a porn star, Aiden, but I’m not his girlfriend.”

“If he’s so great, why aren’t you?”

Taking a deep breath, I moved closer to him. “Why buy the cow when I can get the milk for free?” I’d heard a million people say that about my mother and her boyfriends. I paused for only a moment before continuing, “I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“But you have sex with him, right?”

I gave no other response than a quick roll of my eyes. Wasn’t that what we were already talking about?

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

It was nearly time for lunch when I walked back into the school, still feeling empty as usual, with a hit of acid wrapped in plastic hidden inside the pocket of my jeans.

I looked at no one, especially Elli…no…Rusty Dalton, as I waited for Jason to finish his lunch so we could go smoke.

Thursday morning was the start of an annoying day. Boneheaded Jason Fox never picked me up for school, so I had to take the public bus, which made me late and resulted in a lunchtime detention.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t go to school. He wasn’t sick or anything. No, the asshole was there and accounted for, he just hadn’t bothered coming to get me. Due to my detention, I didn’t get the chance to talk to him because I had to report to the office halfway through Study Hall. Instead, I found myself in the last few moments between lunch and Horticulture listening to Andrea Tuttle puke up her lunch.

She came out of the bathroom stall, pulling her hair back and looking at herself in the mirror. She turned sideways, studying her profile. I could tell she wasn’t happy with what she saw. She looked fine to me, maybe a little too skinny, but I wouldn’t tell her that. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. I’d known enough girls in Tampa with eating issues, and telling a bulimic girl she was too thin would just send her into hysterics.

She bent down and turned on the tap, scooping water into her mouth before swishing and spitting it out. Standing up straight again, she turned it off and looked at me through the mirror. “Don’t tell anyone, okay, Sophie?”

I shrugged. “Who am I going to tell?” I didn’t think Megan or Chris would really give a damn if Andrea puked herself into an early grave. Her friends didn’t seem the type to be overly-compassionate. Hell, a bitch like Cierra probably knew and shoved her thousand-calorie slice of pizza under Andrea’s nose every day.

“You’d be surprised.”

“By what?”

Andrea studied herself again, sighing and tugging her shirt down like she was covering up some non-existent roll of fat. “By how many people here would rat on me if they figured it out. If Robin Wallace or my mother found out…”

“Screw Wallace,” I huffed, “and screw your mom too.” I was in a horrible mood. Usually by this time I was nice and high, but thanks to Mr. No-Show Fox, I was sober and there were still hours left in my day. “I would never say shit to Wallace.”

She turned and gave me a smile. “Thanks, Sophie.”

As we headed out of the bathroom, I decided I didn’t care if she went into hysterics, I had to ask. “Why do you do it? Do you really think you’re too fat? I mean, I know you’re smart and shit, I just don’t understand.”

“It’s a control thing,” she admitted quietly. I turned to her. She looked incredibly nervous, as if she was completely exposing herself. “It’s the only thing I have.”

I wanted to ask her more, but it would have been incredibly inappropriate and totally not my business. Plus, the more I pried into her life, the more she’d start to pry into mine and I already had too many people interested in the life and times of Sophie Young.

I entered the greenhouse and immediately my eyes were drawn to my work partner, Rusty Dalton. I’d done my best over the course of the week to keep a good and healthy distance from him, only really talking to him when absolutely necessary. He seemed to be doing the same. I was sure he was mortified that I’d practically jumped him in his car last Saturday.

Hell,
I
was mortified. I felt pathetic. What was I supposed to say?

Before I could get to my desk, Chris Anderson jumped up and blocked my path. “Sophie!”

I sighed. “Chris,” I answered, sounding unenthused.

“So, you know, there’s a dance coming up in two weeks.”

I just stood there waiting for the asshole to ask. He kept looking at me as if I was supposed to throw myself at him at the mere mention of a school dance. “And?”

“Do you want to go with me?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” he replied, his tone turning a bit indignant.

“No, I don’t.”

His eyes darkened. I’d seen that look before on other boys; other men. As much as I disliked Chris and didn’t really care about his feelings, I certainly didn’t want to make an enemy. Up until this point, I’d been able to peg him with basketballs and then manipulate him into thinking it was purely accidental. I didn’t want to piss him off. I barely knew him, or what he was capable of.

“I don’t really dance, Chris, and my father is…”

“Are you going with Jason Fox?”

I smiled as I pictured Jason and me, stoned at a high school dance. “No. I doubt he’s the semi-formal-in-the-gym kind of guy.”

“Are you dating him?”

What the hell was it with these stupid-ass Damascus boys? “He’s a friend, Chris.” I turned around quickly to see that Mr. Reese had taken his place at the front of the class. “Class is starting.” His glare didn’t let up. “Ask Megan. She’ll want to go with you.” Megan was constantly talking about boys, but about Chris most of all.

He let out a heated breath. “Of course she wants to go with me, Sophie, I’m not brainless.” He could have fooled me. I nearly said that to him, but I stopped myself. “I’ve already tapped that.”

Chris Anderson was an ass. Megan wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but he didn’t have to be so crass about it. She really liked him. “Then don’t ask her, but I’m not going with you.”

I pushed past him, annoyed that I actually had to shove him out of the way in order to get to my seat. Elliott’s eyes were fixed on his notebook, but I knew he’d seen and heard the entire exchange. I hoped he got a little bit of joy out of watching me shut Anderson down. If I was the type to go to school dances, I would take Rusty Dalton and ask him in front of Chris.

Then again, who knew if Rusty Dalton would accept and why was I thinking about that anyway? Thinking about stupid high school dances with stupid high school boys was stupid.

“What the hell?”

Jason shook his head as he lit the joint, not looking at me. “What’s your deal, Sophie?” He sounded bored.

“Why’d you ditch me yesterday? Why’re you acting like you’re avoiding me today?”

“Jesus,” he sighed. “We’re smoking together, right? How is that avoiding?”

I grabbed the joint and inhaled. Thank the FSM for this at least. Jason had yet again failed to pick me up for school this morning. Yesterday I had to get a ride home with Andrea. “What the hell?” I repeated as I held in the smoke.

His face was so tense. He looked absolutely pissed and I had no idea why. Everything was cool on Wednesday, although now that I thought about it, he was very quiet on the ride home. I wished he would just tell me what the hell was wrong with him and stop acting like such a needy girl.

“Jason,” I said loudly as I exhaled.

“You didn’t have to fuck him.”

“What?” What the hell was he talking about?

“Aiden. He would have sold you that tab without you letting him hump you in his SUV.”

Jesus Christ.
That
was what this was about? Because he thought I had sex with Aiden? I’d just
barely
made out with him. “I didn’t do him. Wait. You think I did him for the acid?” What an ass. “I’m not a whore.” I paused for emphasis. “And just in case you’re wondering, I don’t do you for pot either, you ass. I give you money, the same as the rest of your customers.”

He rolled his eyes and I wanted to smack him. “Whatever.”

“First off, I can have sex with whomever I want. Second, I
didn’t
have sex with him, but if I did, it would be because I
wanted
to, not because I wanted acid. Third, what the hell’s your problem? I told you from the beginning that I’m not your girlfriend, which means I can do whatever I want with other people.”

I grabbed the joint from him with one hand and smacked him in the chest with the other. “You don’t
own
me.” I inhaled deeply, hoping that the pot would wash away what was transpiring.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be a douche, Jason.” I hated possession. I hated boys thinking that the minute you touched their penis, you were theirs.

I shoved the joint back at him and he took it, shrugging his shoulders.

“Aiden Montgomery is a dick. You didn’t have to bang him.” He took a hit and as he held it in, he continued, his voice sounding distorted. “Don’t you even want to know
how
I know about your Escalade-rocking?” He paused for the briefest moment. “Because he
told
anyone who would listen, Sophie.” I sighed, wishing he was lying, but knowing he probably wasn’t.
That
was annoying considering I
didn’t
have sex with him. Obviously Jason thought I was lying.

Finally sitting down next to him, I exhaled before plucking the weed from his fingers. “So this outburst of yours is less about anger over me having sex with someone, and more about who that someone might’ve been?”

For a moment, Jace was silent as he lit a cigarette, apparently finished with the smoldering roach between my fingers. He ran a hand though his hair and for the first time locked his eyes with mine. “He’s a douche, Sophie, and you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have the whole thing on YouTube by the weekend.”

I blew out the hit, flicked the joint down, and listened to the satisfying sizzle as it went out. “I didn’t have sex with him,” I repeated.

“Yeah, right. He’s done just about every girl in Damascus above the age of fourteen, so I’m not surprised he went after you too.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Seriously, Sophie, you should get tested now.”

“Whatever.” I could tell by his voice he wasn’t seriously concerned for the health of my vagina.

“Well, if your naughty parts start itchin’, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”