Ella's Twisted Senior Year (11 page)

Now that Ethan and I are comfortably in make out territory, the weekend flew by faster than that tornado destroyed my house. We spent the entire time hanging out in the rec room, making up for lost time. April wanted me to go prom dress shopping with her but I’d lied and said I wasn’t feeling well. Actually, it wasn’t that much of a lie. The idea of being away from Ethan, even for a few hours of trying on dresses, made me physically ill. So it was kind of true.

It feels like nothing can ruin my Ethan high until Monday morning when we arrive in the school parking lot. I’m still finishing off my donut holes and Ethan reaches a massive hand into my bag, stealing one.

I slap it away. “You already ate yours, fatty.”

“But the donut holes are
so
good. I should get these next time.”

“Yeah, you should because I don’t like sharing.”

Ethan’s smile reaches his eyes and the moment of silence that follows makes us both lean forward. Then he blinks and pulls back, drumming his hands on the steering wheel.

“Um, we probably shouldn’t kiss in the parking lot?”

I’m not sure if it’s a question or a statement, but I sink back into my seat. I can’t really get upset about this. Ethan
had
tried to figure out what we were, what we’re doing. Are we friends with benefits, friends making a onetime mistake, or the ultimate big deal: boyfriend and girlfriend? I’d blown off the question by declaring that we are “us”. What does that even mean? I was too caught up in the moment, wanting his lips back on mine, his hands roaming wherever they pleased. I can’t be held responsible for my actions in that moment. Yet here we are, in the school parking lot, about to walk right into the lion’s den.

I sigh through my nose. “Is Kennedy still texting you like crazy?”

He makes his half-shrug movement. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Then I guess we just cool off at school. Keep to ourselves and give it more time.”

“But you pretty much declared that we’re together in my driveway,” he says. “So, maybe we can kiss in the parking lot.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

Nervous doesn’t even begin to explain the feelings coursing through my veins right now. I’ve had a boyfriend or two over the years, but they were never that serious. It never went beyond hallway hand holding and sitting together at lunch. Do I really want the wrath of Kennedy Price if I show up holding her ex-boyfriend’s hand just a week after they split?

I look around, checking to make sure there’s no one watching us, then I lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Not fair,” he whines.

His lip pokes out and I pretty much have to kiss him now. There’s no way to deny this boy of anything when he’s looking so hot.

I lick the donut sugar off my lips and kiss him.

“Perfect.” He unbuckles his seatbelt. “Now I can enjoy my day.”

I give him a look. “You’re dumb.”

April’s waiting for me inside the school. She’s wearing a black skirt that is
definitely
shorter than the mid-thigh dress code rules, but she covers her tank top with a shimmery cardigan that goes to her knees in an effort to get away with it. Her eyebrow quirks when she sees me walking in with Ethan.

Sure, he’s been driving me to school all of last week, but we’d made sure to part ways long before we reached the main doors.

“Uh, hi,” April says, giving him a once over.

“You’re April, right?” Ethan says. “I hear about you constantly.”

Her expression doesn’t give away if she’s pleased or annoyed to finally meet him. “Likewise.”

“Poe!” someone calls from across the hallway. It’s one of his jock friends who I vaguely recognize from his lunch table. “You gonna let me copy your homework or what?”

“Guess that’s my cue to leave. Can’t let Keith get another detention for not having his homework,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

I nod and then Ethan’s arm is around my shoulder and he leans in, kissing me on the forehead before he leaves. Every muscle in my body freezes. How exactly does one react to their first public display of affection from the hottest, most popular guy in the school?

“Girl, you have three minutes to explain everything,” April says, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me toward first period. “Something tells me you weren’t
sick
last weekend.”

“I totally was,” I lie. Well, half-lie. “But since we’re on the topic . . . yeah . . . that happened.”

April squeezes my arm. “I don’t know if I should be happy for you because he’s so hot and now you’ll have a prom date, or like, if I should be a good friend and warn you that this might end terribly.”

“It’s not anything like that. I mean, we’re not going to prom.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

I open my mouth but can’t think up a good excuse. The hallways seem a little more packed today, and I’m hit with a feeling of déjà vu. People are staring. And smirking. And doing that thing where they look at you and then look at their friends and start laughing.

“Am I the center of attention again?” I ask.

April looks around, scouting out the scene with her perceptive best friend skills. “You think word got out about you and Ethan already?”

“It was one stupid forehead kiss. Like thirty seconds ago,” I say, looking around but trying to make it seem like I don’t care. Everyone is definitely staring at me.

“What’s going on?” I ask a freshman as we walk by. She turns a deep shade of red and turns away.

April chuckles. “Face it, Ella. You start dating the hot guy, you become fodder for high school gossip. If we were celebrities, you’d be on the cover of every gossip mag right now.”

This isn’t cool. Why do we even need a high school popularity caste system? Can’t we just all go about our days ignoring what everyone else does?

I mean, I guess I knew people would be curious to hear that Ethan and I are kind of a thing now, but does that really warrant staring at me like I’ve grown an extra head? I’m not even walking with him right now.

April stops between the two neighboring classrooms that have our first periods. “Will you be okay by yourself?” she asks. “I could sneak a hall pass and come hang out with you.”

I shake my head. “I can handle this. Besides, it’s a better thing for people to stare about than that stupid tornado.”

When Mr. Davis is halfway through his lecture about the Civil War, I’m almost positive that something else is going on. People will not stop staring at me. From students I’ve never talked to, to the ones I’d consider friends, they’re all sneaking glimpses at me, snickering and generally making me feel like there’s not a hole big enough to hide inside.

I turn around to Humzah, a straight-A student who used to invite me to her birthday parties when we were kids. “Is everyone staring at me or am I just imagining it?” I whisper, although I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.

She looks down at her notes and then nods. “They’re staring. I’m sorry.”

“Is it because of Ethan or the tornado?”

She looks a little confused by the question. “Um, both?”

Mr. Davis’ khaki pants appear next to us. I look up to find him frowning at me, a dry erase marker smelling like chemicals in his hand. “My class is not a time for socialization, ladies.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble, turning back around. Mr. Davis begins writing more notes on the board and there’s a tap on my shoulder.

Humzah whispers, “Facebook.”

I spend the next half an hour trying to sneak a look at my phone without Mr. Davis seeing. Finally, another teacher comes to the door and he talks to her for a few minutes. I slip out my phone, angling it in my lap to where the desk will cover it from Mr. Davis’ point of view, and go to Facebook. It doesn’t take long before I scroll down and see something shared to the West Canyon High School’s cheer page.

My lungs suddenly forget how to breathe but that’s nothing compared to how I’m pretty sure my heart has stopped beating. I gasp for air and then my heart races, sending a surge of adrenaline through my veins.

The photo was originally posted by Kennedy Price, last night at eight-thirty in the evening. It’s been shared three hundred and sixty-two times.

“Mother f—” I mutter under my breath. Okay, maybe it was more of a pissed off growl instead of a quiet murmur.

“Ella,” Mr. Davis says. “Language.” He closes his classroom door and walks back to the white board. “And put the phone away. I won’t give you a second warning.”

Heat pumps through my cheeks until my nose goes numb. I slide the phone back into the zippered pocket of my backpack but the image I saw has already burrowed into my brain, a perfect photo recall that might never go away.

Kennedy, or probably some techy nerd she bribed, had photo shopped a very unflattering photo of my face on top of a cartoon tornado. The tornado had stick hands and legs and a Comic Sans caption at the bottom that read:
Ella the boyfriend stealing slut-nado.

Stupid, yes.

There’s not even a single element of humor to it but it’s managed to capture the attention of the whole freaking school. The staring and whispering behind my back continues throughout second and third period. I’m filled with a mixture of anger and humiliation and right now they’re both competing for space in my mind. One thing is for sure: all school work has been completely ignored. My teachers could be teaching the secret to curing cancer and I wouldn’t know. My mind is elsewhere.

Ethan is waiting for me before my fourth period pre-cal class. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his expression is so serious I barely recognize him at first.

“Stay off the internet,” he says in a low voice.

“Too late.” I walk right past him and he falls into step with me.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. The dark waves are all messed up and I get the feeling he’s been doing the hand thing a lot this morning.

A group of girls walk by, staring like it’s the source of their continued existence. “
Slut-nado
,” one of them hisses. I stop, fists clenched.

“Ignore it,” Ethan says, putting an arm around my back. “Don’t do anything that will get you in trouble.”

All of my muscles strain against walking. All I want to do is turn around and punch that girl in the face, but I force myself to walk, using Ethan’s hand on my back as a guide.

“I’ll talk to her and get her to take down the photo,” he says, dipping his mouth toward my ear while we walk. Any other time, on any other day, I’d have chills of pleasure from walking this close to Ethan, feeling his breath on my ear. Now it just makes me angry.

“Talking to her won’t help,” I say. “She won’t stop until she gets you back.”

He snorts. “That’ll never happen. I’m with you and I’m not changing that.”

For some reason this really sets me off. It’s like my heart and my brain have spent so long in an epic battle with one another and now, when they finally agree on something, the resulting flash bang turns me into a monster. I grab his hand and pull him into an alcove behind the back stairway. The sudden isolation from all of the gawking, staring eyes of my peers is a welcome relief.

“We can’t do this,” I say, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out quickly. “We just can’t. We’re not together and we probably won’t ever be.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he says, reaching for me. I let him take my hands but I don’t meet his gaze.

“Kennedy won’t ever stop. She’s more powerful than I am in this stupid school’s social hierarchy and she’ll ruin me. She’ll ruin
us
.”

I sigh through my nose and even laugh a little as it all becomes so very clear to me. “I should have known we’d never work out, Ethan.”

He frowns and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Don’t say that, Ella.”

I shake my head. “This is high school. High school is drama. This isn’t some romantic teen movie where the loser girl gets her happily ever after with the popular guy.” I throw my hands in the air. Now that everything makes sense to me, I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it. “Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean we’ll work out. High school won’t let us.”