Hate Me

“Who’s the Sweetheart now?”

“Peyton. Why do you think she won Homecoming Queen? Our whole house voted for her.”

“I didn’t know that. What does she have to do?”

“Be friends with the guys.”

“Ohmigawd, Jake. Tell me it’s not because I’ve kissed a lot of the boys in your dorm!”

Bryce laughs at me but Jake says, “That’s not at all what it’s about. It’s an honor. We choose a girl we think is cool. Someone the younger guys can look up to. A hot big sister. Someone they can come to if they’re having girl troubles. Stuff like that. It was between you, Maggie, and Ariela. Ariela is super pretty, but she’s a little too reserved. Maggie is awesome, but she slept with her ex’s best friend. As the prefect who makes the final decision, I just have a problem with that.”

“I almost slept with you to get back at Dawson.”

“But you didn’t. Even drunk, you didn’t. We all know that.”

I have a flash of Aiden and me being crowned Homecoming King and Queen.

But it’s a fairy tale that will never happen. I won’t be here next year. I won’t even be here for Prom.

And that makes me sad.

I wish we could have the Prom of our dreams after the kind of Proms we both had last year.

I close my eyes for a minute and breathe.

We’ll just have to make sure Winter Formal is special.

And I need to talk Jake into choosing someone else.

“I’m not sure if I’d give good advice.”

“You will. I’m sure of it,” Jake tells me. “And when you win, act surprised.”

So damn stubborn.

Soccer

Before soccer practice starts, Cooper inquires about my hamstring.

“I think maybe I should sit out today. Could I go in your office and make some phone calls?” I ask.

“What for?” he whispers.

“Can we talk about it after practice. I have something I need to tell you.”

“Why don’t you go take a whirlpool and then we’ll stretch after practice,” he says loudly so that my teammates can hear.

“Thanks,” I say.

After practice, he meets me in the training room.

“So what were the calls about?”

“We’re going back to Malibu on Thursday.”

Cooper’s face turns a shade of pissed-off red. “Are you fucking nuts?”

“Calm down!” I whisper softly, but firmly. “I have to do something. I can’t let what happened stop my plan. I also need to go back to honor her.”

“You’re not going to the funeral.”

“No, that wouldn’t be right, since I didn’t know her. We’ll be honoring her at the club.”

“No. No fucking way are you going back there. I’ll quit before I’ll allow that.”

“Fine. Then I accept your resignation.”

Cooper bangs his fist on the table. “Oh, you are so damn stubborn.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Cooper. I have to do something. I can’t let him get away with it.”

“He might not get away with it. The police are going to question him.”

“That’s awesome news. He deserves to go to jail. But knowing him, he’ll get off. And knowing him, he’ll be back at the club on Thursday to see if I have the balls to show up.”

“I want to know your entire plan now. We can’t go out the back again. We have to have a different plan. Something . . .” Cooper says.

“More dramatic?” I laugh, knowing my plan is just that.

“No, I was thinking safe.”

“We’re going out the front door, Cooper. I just need you to make sure I get there and then to  . . .”

I tell him my escape plan.

Cooper slaps his forehead. “You seriously have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Think it will work?”

“It’s not like he’ll be able to follow us. But you told me that when you were in Miami he had a gun. The photos he’s sent to your mom and Brooklyn involved shooting. What if he decides to start shooting? Creates a distraction to get you out. Or, worse, to clear a path to you.”

“I think—well, hope—that he’ll be too shocked to do anything. And by the time he realizes what’s happening, we’ll be gone.”

“Let me think this through, okay.”

I nod, shutting up.

“It sounds more like a movie than real life,” he finally states.

“That’s why it’s perfect. He’ll never expect it. And if you can get your friends to help, I’ll stay safe.”

Cooper shakes his head at me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The one crying.

6:15pm

Since there’s a home basketball game tonight, we eat pizza and get ready in the dance locker room.

Once I have my dance uniform on and my hair fixed, I text Aiden.

Me:  Good luck tonight.

Hottie God:  Thanks. Tonight is a big game, but I have to admit, my thoughts are on you wearing candy. Did I mention I have a sweet tooth?

Hottie God:  And tongue.

Whew. Is it hot in here?

I use a pompom to fan my face.

Me:  I like your tongue.

Hottie God:  It likes you too. I have to go. What outfits are you wearing tonight? Are they nice and short?

Me:  Very skimpy as usual.

Hottie God:  Perfect.

The game is very back and forth. It’s also really rough. Dawson has already fouled out and Ace is close. Aiden makes a great defensive play, stealing a pass and ru

I hold my breath as he lies on the ground, holding his ankle and writhing in pain.

The trainer runs out onto the court and helps him limp off. He isn’t even able to shoot his own free throw.

He sits on the end of the bench and the trainer tries to remove his shoe.

Aiden winces in pain and shakes his head, so the trainer takes him to the locker room.

Dallas is sitting low in the bleachers ogling Kassidy, so I try to catch his eye.

That doesn’t work. So I figure, screw it.

I get up and march over to Peyton. “I’m going to the boys’ locker room.”

“You can’t go in there,” she tells me. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just a twisted ankle.”

I stare at her.

“Okay, fine,” she finally says. “Run down and get all our glitter gloves.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.”

I go out a side gym door, race down to the locker area, barge into the training room, and find Aiden getting his shoe cut off.

“Are you okay?” I ask panicked.

“Not sure. Sprained my ankle for sure. It’s so swollen that we can’t get my shoe off.”

“That’s good right? Usually they aren’t broken when they swell up that fast?”

“I’ve never heard that,” the trainer says.

I can see the pain on Aiden’s face. I want to make it go away.

“I’m fine,” he says, gritting his teeth as the trainer cuts away his sock.

I peek at his ankle. “That looks like it hurts,” I say, stating the obvious.

“What do you want to do, Aiden?” the trainer asks. “We can do RICE or take you to the hospital now for an X-ray.”

“What’s RICE?” I ask.

“Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation,” Aiden says. “Let’s go with that. And some ibuprofen, please.”

The trainer walks into the storage room, so I move to Aiden’s side. “It’s really swollen.”

He holds my hand. “I’m okay.”

Tears start to fall from my eyes. I know it’s stupid. I know he’s not seriously hurt.

He reaches up and wipes away my tears. “Shouldn’t I be the one crying?”

“I don’t like to see you hurt, Aiden.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve twisted an ankle.”

I know what he’s saying is true, but he looks just like he did that day in the chapel. And the day at the pep rally. And it breaks my heart to think I’m going to cause him more hurt soon.