Because I'm Disposable (4 page)

Chapter Seven

I strutted to the bus stop like I owned the whole block.
Kids gawked. Sylvie did a double-take and then pretended she hadn’t noticed me. Yeah, no one was going to mess with me now. I’d made sure that everything about me, my ass-kicker boots, the new-to-me, black threads I’d pilfered from Corrine’s side of the closet, even my new blood-red pixie cut spoke volumes. And I’d topped it all with a coating of thick, black eye makeup and cherry lipstick. My look clearly said, “Stay the hell away from me, or get your ass kicked.” And thanks to my fight with Jackie, everyone knew I’d follow through.

Their reactions were still better than my mother’s teary-eyed silence and Corrine’s “Good God, Cal! Isn’t it a little early for Halloween?” At least none of them looked disappointed in me.

Not even Link. He handled himself like a pro.

I was sitting under Mrs. Morisee’s barely-alive pygmy palm, its branches just low enough to tickle the top of my head, when Link stepped out of his house and headed over. He scanned the group as he approached, adjusting his direction the minute he spotted me. To his credit, he never let on that he noticed anything different about my appearance. A minute later, he dropped down into the grass next to me.

“Hey.” His morning voice was deeper, raspier than what I was used to hearing.

“Hey.” Mine was quiet. And my hands were nervous, reflecting the turmoil of butterflies hidden in my stomach right then. I wrung them, picked at my newly-painted, silver nails, folded and unfolded my fingers. Anything to dispel some of the nervous energy collecting there. Why was I suddenly so freaked about being near Link?

“Nice hair.” He plucked at the short strands resting at my temple.

A compliment? I looked up at him to be sure his words had been intended sincerely.

He met my gaze square on. “The color makes your eyes look gray.” He didn’t look away. And I couldn’t. I was stuck in some sort of spell, some other dimension where only he and I existed, and I wanted so badly, in that moment, to kiss him.

Or for him to kiss me.

I licked my lips and looked down at his. They were full, and shiny, and so close. If I leaned forward six inches, I might be able to feel those lips on mine. For one brief second, I thought he might actually be about to kiss me, that he might actually have leaned in, closing some of the distance between us.

“Heads up!” I heard the words barely seconds before a football landed in the gap between my crisscrossed legs. Before I could react, Link plucked the ball from my lap and tossed it to Jerome Smith. I couldn’t think of a time I’d ever seen the large, dark, jock without his football; it was something of a security blanket for him. He probably wouldn’t be able to function if he ever lost it. I kind of wished I had a proverbial blankie.

“Thanks man.” Jerome clutched his ball to his chest with one arm and trotted off. I watched his retreat, but wasn’t really watching him.

Sylvie didn’t wait more than a minute before filling the empty space Jerome had left in front of me. “Hey, Callista. I love your new look.” Her tone made it clear she meant the exact opposite.

I didn’t respond.

“So, I heard what everyone was saying
…” Cattiness suffused her every feature as she said, “And I want you to know that I don’t believe them.”

I knew she was baiting me, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Believe who about what?”

“You know, that you killed your dad.” People thought I’d killed my father? I could actually feel my brain imploding. Why would anyone think that? Was she smiling? Even if I’d known how to respond, I was too upset to put voice to any of it. I clamped my teeth down hard on my tongue until I tasted blood.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Sylvie? That’s insane!” Link jumped to my defense. I didn’t know what say or do, how to react.

“Oh, it’s totes insane.” The look Sylvie leveled on me proved that in her opinion, the only thing insane around here was me. “That’s what I told Jackie Forrester when she said it.” Jackie. I should have known. And now Sylvie wanted to make it look like she was on my side?

“Go away, Sylvie.” Link’s order was both quiet and powerful. There was definitely a threat of intent backing up his command.

Sylvie took the hint. “Whatevs, you wanna hang out with her, then you’re just as crazy as she is.” And she flitted away.

When I finally returned my attention to Link, he was further away than before, and didn’t even remotely look like he was interested in kissing. In fact, he looked worried.

“How are you doing, Callie?” His question was barely audible, but my ears burned from the strength of it long after the words were gone.

“I’m okay.” But my voice was empty.

Link raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push me about it.

We sat in silence after that. I couldn’t think of anything to say, and I didn’t really want to look at him. If he looked into my eyes, he might see the effect he had on me, might see the way my stomach knotted whenever he was close. Or the way goosebumps broke out across my skin when he licked his lips that way he did when he was about to say something important. He might see how fragile I became whenever he looked at me, how I worried I’d suddenly become transparent and all my secrets were laid bare for him to see.

Yes, there was something about the way Link looked at me that made me both terrified and exhilarated.

I just about leapt
to my feet when the bus pulled up a few minutes later. I was the first in line to board when the doors opened, and I wasted no time claiming the empty seat next to Gina Hamilton. It was the perfect place for me. Gina was about as sullen and quiet as a teenager could get, and I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about small talk during the twenty-minute ride to Ridgecrest High.

Gina didn’t disappoint. She sank deeper into her oversized sweater when I sat down, and pushed her ear buds deeper into her ears. I popped mine in and set my player for a random playlist. Gina was my new favorite person.

I was intently aware of Link sitting three rows up and on the opposite side of the aisle. I tried hard not to notice him, but I couldn’t miss the fact that he kept looking back at me. So instead, I tried hard not to let on that I was hyper-focused on him.

When we arrived at school, Link waited for me to pass him before standing and following me off the bus. He walked behind me the whole way to first period, and when I took a seat in the far back corner, he took the seat right next to me. But he never said a word. Maybe I was reading too much in
to things—he probably wasn’t really watching me.

I sank low in my desk and waited for the bell to ring. Then, I spent the next hour and ten minutes trying to drown out Mrs. Field’s warbly, creaky voice, with little success.

* * * * *

Calculus was going to be exponentially worse than English; I could feel it, and I hadn’t even made it to the math wing yet. At the last minute, when I was about to walk through the double doors leading into D Wing, I veered left and dipped into the women’s bathroom instead. It was blessedly quiet. Sure, the administrators might catch me skipping second period, but it was a risk I was going to take. I needed time to breathe, to be alone with my thoughts. To process my almost kiss with Link.

I pulled myself onto the countertop and sat there staring at my shoelaces as I swung my feet. The minute bell rang, then sixty seconds later, the late bell. I was committed now.

The door to the handicap stall in the back swung open, and a girl I didn’t know peeked out. She startled when she saw me, but relaxed a second later.

“Phew! For a minute there I thought Ms. Faraday had caught me skippin’ again.” She approached and slid onto the counter a few feet away from me. “I’m Mona.” She used an unnaturally pale hand to flick a lock of black hair out of her eyes and nodded at my feet. “Nice kicks.”

“Thanks.” My black combat boots were actually Corrine’s. She’d picked them up at the Army-Navy store for her costume last Halloween. She’d gone as a zombie slayer. “I’m Callie.”

“Nice to meet, ya, Callie. Cig?” She produced a pack of Marlboroughs from her backpack and offered me one. I must have stared at the cigarettes a little too long, or looked a little too unsure, because she followed up with, “You ever smoked before?”

I shook my head.

She slid two out of the pack and stuck them both between her lips. With the flick of a gas-station-issue Bic, she lit them both, then passed one to me. “Here, try one. If it doesn’t make you sick, it’ll calm you down.”

I didn’t see the correlation—
and certainly didn’t think I needed calming down—but I took the cigarette anyway. Following Mona’s example, I lifted the cigarette to my lips and took a long pull. I lasted all of two seconds before my lungs exploded in a fit of smoky coughs and gags.

Mona chuckled and patted me on the back. “It’ll get better.” She took a hard drag and blew graceful smoke rings into the air above her head.

“Nice,” I croaked, motioning toward the dissipating O’s with my free hand.

“Thanks.” Mona looked me over from head to toe. I got the impression she was sizing me up, appraising me. “My friends and I hang under the big oak tree in the quad at lunch. You should stop by. I’ll introduce you.”

I must have passed inspection.

“What class are you hiding from?” She pulled out a compact and checked her heavy makeup.

“Math.” I took another, smaller drag from my cigarette, pretending to inhale. Really, I just held the smoke in my mouth for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. It climbed up my nose on the way out and made my eyes tear up, but Mona didn’t seem to notice.

“Science,” she informed me without looking up from her mirror or the mascara she was now applying. “What grade are you in? You’re not in any of my classes.”

“Tenth. You?” Another pretend drag.

“Eleventh. You know Jason Williams?”

I knew of him. He was the stereotypical bad boy, and we didn’t really run in the same crowd. Until now, apparently. “Sure, I think we had drama together last semester.”

“You going to his party next Saturday?”

“I wasn’t invited.” I shrugged and pressed the cigarette to my lips again, sucked. This time I tried to inhale a little. My throat was collapsing, but I managed to hold a straight face and keep from coughing.

“Well, I’m inviting you now. You need a ride?” Mona slipped her compact back into her backpack and shrugged the bag onto her shoulders. She adjusted her clothing in the mirror, pushing her breasts up in her bra and pulling the neckline of her shirt down to reveal ample cleavage.

“Okay, yeah.” I’d never actually been to a party before.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Let me get your number. I’ll text you about it.”

I recited my number, and when she was finished entering it into her phone, she headed toward the exit.

“Cool. Catch you at lunch. I gotta go meet my boy.” She opened the door enough to peek around it. Then she was gone.

Apparently, I had a new friend. And I was going to a party next weekend. I took another real pull from my cigarette and collapsed into yet another coughing fit.

*
* * * *

I wasn’t sure I’d actually show up to the ‘big oak in the quad’ at lunch until I was already there. I used to eat lunch with Carmen and Marsha, but seeing as I was off the team, I probably wasn’t welcome at the JV table anymore. Searching out Mona certainly seemed preferable to eating alone.

She must be really popular, I realized as I approached. A handful of boys formed a half-circle around her, while she sat like a queen on a stone bench, basking in the shade from the giant tree towering behind her. Her smile was bright, and her laugh was loud, even from twenty feet away. When she saw me, her smile widened, if that was even possible. She jumped up. Her gauzy, black skirt flowed out behind her like the train on a gown.

“Callie, you made it!” She practically danced to me and wrapped her arms around me like we were old friends. When was the last time someone had hugged me?

The tall, blonde kid behind her was really cute, in a Disney Channel kind of way. So was the skinny, dark-haired one with the cheeky dimples and the labret piercing. And there was Jason Williams, with his cobalt-blue eyes, spiked black hair, and his long wallet chains which were so against the school dress code. His bicep tattoos peeked out from under both sleeves of his Raging Puppets shirt. Heck, all of Mona’s boys were good-looking, but Jason looked hot
and
dangerous. And I was a nervous wreck around safe boys I’d known my whole life. I needed to play this cool. “Yeah, I uh, figured I’d stop by and say hello.”

“I’m glad you did.” She grabbed me by the arm and led me to her bench, like an honored guest. “Guys, this is Callie. She’s totally cool.”

She didn’t even know me, and she was vouching for me. Was I cool? Right at that moment, I felt more like a fraud.

“Hey, Callie.” Jason crouched next to me. He looked me up and down, then said, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “We had drama together.”

Recognition brightened his eyes, and his eyelids fluttered open, dusting his cheeks with lashes far too thick and beautiful for a boy. “Wow.” He whistled and looked me over again, this time slower and more thoroughly, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made me feel practically naked.