Hate me

Aspen

I turn my focus back to my locker when I see them saunter down the hallway, hoping like hell they stroll past me without stopping. 

No such luck though, because a moment later the sounds of their heels clicking on the terrazzo floor come to a halt. 

“Hey, Aspen.” 

Dammit. 

Nothing good ever comes from my exchanges with Traci and Staci—two popular cheerleaders with chips on their shoulders the size of Texas. 

Refusing to make eye contact, I switch my history textbook out for my biology one. 

“Traci.” I try to clear the bitterness out of my throat but fail, “Staci.” 

I can practically feel their eyes boring holes into me, and I brace myself to be insulted. 

Only to my surprise, it doesn’t happen. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Traci asks instead.

It’s a trick question. I know damn well the second I tell them I’m either studying or working, they’ll make some dumb quip about me being a nerd who doesn’t have any friends. 

Bitches. 

I go with the safer of the two options. “Working.” 

“Well, do you think you can take the night off?” Staci chimes in. 

That’s…odd.

Curious, I tilt my head to look at them. “Why?” 

Traci flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Seconds later, Staci does the same. 

Even though they aren’t related, they somehow look like clones of one another. Perfect, silky blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tall with mile-long legs, and of course they’re both a willowy size zero. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with being a size zero…

Unless you’re a cunt who likes to make those who aren’t feel inferior like these two do.

A trickle of jealousy washes over me because I wish I were as pretty—and ski

That said, I’d rather look like me than ever act like them. 

Yet—I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t still a small part of me that wishes I were popular and fit in. 

Sometimes it gets lonely being an outcast. 

“We want to hang out.” 

It’s all I can do not to drop the stack of books in my arms. 

I blink in disbelief, effectively thrown. “With me?” 

Staci laughs. “Yeah, silly.” 

“Why?” 

It’s a legitimate question, given they’re so much higher on the food chain than I am. Not to mention the little jabs they’ve both thrown my way over the years. 

“Well,” Traci begins, “senior year will be over soon, and we realized that we haven’t been very nice to you.” 

Staci nods in agreement. “We don’t want that kind of bad karma on our conscience, so we were hoping to make amends.” 

Yeah, this conversation just went from odd to super fucking weird. 

Since when do Traci and Staci have a conscience or give a shit about karma? 

On the other hand, who the hell am I to snub either of them for trying to be a better person? 

“It’s fine,” I tell them, slamming my locker shut. “We’re cool.” 

Staci takes her compact out of her purse. “Does that mean you’ll come chill after school?” 

“Can’t,” I mutter. “I have to work.” 

I’m about to walk away, but then Traci says, “Well, if you can’t hang out tonight, then what are you doing this weekend?” 

“There’s a bonfire party at Devil’s Bluff Lake,” Staci adds. 

I’ve heard all about the parties at Devil’s Bluff, but until now I’ve never been invited to one. 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to decline, but then Traci utters, “Come on, Aspen. Don’t be such a loser. Come with.” 

Staci smirks. “We can even do your hair and makeup beforehand.” 

Traci chews on her bottom lip as if she’s pondering something. “Maybe you can tell Knox and he can come, too?” 

There it is. They’re not being nice to me to make amends. They’re being nice because they’re hoping it will get them closer to Knox. 

Which is strange because everyone at Black Mountain is terrified of him. 

Then again, I’ve caught Traci and Staci talking about how hot he is while applying their lipstick in the girls’ room more than once. Gross. 

Knox would rather swallow nails than go to that party. He might be a homicidal freak, but his disdain for the bullshit social hierarchy around here is something I can respect. 

I shake my head. “Sorry—”

“Ken Ruckman will be there,” Staci chirps. 

Traci grins. “Word on the street is that he really wants you to come.” 

If that were the case, he’d ask me himself.  

Not that it would matter because my crush on Ken is ancient history, and I have a boyfriend. 

Well, not a boyfriend on account he’s definitely not a boy. 

Not to mention…married. 

Maybe that’s why I find myself saying yes. 

Not because of Ken…

But because for once it would be nice to fit in, act like an eighteen-year-old, and have a sense of normalcy in my life for a night.  

“Ginger, I need you out on stage in five,” Freddie says from the doorway. 

Seriously? I just got off stage twenty minutes ago. 

Hand propped on my hip, I turn to look at him. “Again?” 

As much as I hate being on stage, I need to make some money tonight. And the only way to do that is to book private rooms. 

Freddie sighs. “Violet took the night off and Candi never showed up for her shift, so we’re short.”

That’s weird. 

I look at Heather, or should I say—Bambi. “I can’t believe Candi didn’t show up.” 

Lord knows I can’t stand her, but it’s not like her to ghost on a shift. Hell, I’m pretty sure she spends more time here than she does her actual apartment. 

Bambi waves a dismissive hand. “She probably overslept.” Picking up a tube of mascara, she rolls her eyes. “Or she’s too busy screwing her latest train wreck of a guy and lost track of time.” 

That definitely sounds like her. 

After reapplying my lip gloss, I place the black and green masquerade mask over my face. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

However, I can’t shake the weird feeling snaking up my spine as I walk out of the dressing room. 

What if she’s not?