Bottled Blue

Eight

If anything good came from my argument with Jett, it was that he no longer wanted to talk to me. The next day he called and said, "I'm busy tonight. Can't do homework with you."

"Hallelujah," I replied.

Then he said, "Bite me," and hung up.

Okay, so I did feel kind of bad about hurting his feelings. It was actually quite possible that Cameron had been at fault for that fight. But he had come home pretty roughed up, and Jett didn't need to treat him like shit for the next few years. Cameron just ignored his existence. Jett would do things like trip him in the halls and shove him against the lockers for no reason. It blew my mind that he couldn't think of a single reason I hated him when that one was so obvious.

The thing about me, though, is that even though I tried to come off as someone who wasn't fazed by other people's feelings, it wasn't true. I really hated upsetting people. My mom always said I was either too nice or too mean. I couldn't seem to find a balance between them. I got angry too quickly, and I held grudges too long. But then, when I saw that Jett was upset by what I'd said, I felt kind of sorry for him.

Not that there was any way in hell I'd ever tell him.

Another reason I didn't like Jett was because of his parents. I knew it was wrong to dislike him since I hated when people judged me based on my mom's profession. But Jett's parents were famous. They didn't do much anymore, but they were massive in the 70s and 80s and still occasionally showed up at benefit concerts and TV things. They were basically rock legends.

He had two younger sisters. Twins named Diamond and Pearl, which I always thought was kind of sad. But his mom was named Ruby, and I figured something was going on there. They either had a weird obsession with gems, or they just thought they were clever.

Either way, the twins were the opposite of Jett. I had a class with Diamond at the beginning of the year, and she basically shouted at people all semester. She was wicked smart. Enough to be in a senior class in her freshman year. But she didn't seem to like—well, anyone. She was kind of rude. And certainly didn't use her parents' fame to get friends.

Pearl, on the other hand, was shy and soft-spoken. She was sweet whenever I did have a reason to talk to her. But she avoided people like the plague, hid behind her siblings, and really didn't talk to anyone unless they talked to her first. Her parents' fame meant nothing to her. Since she didn't even seem to want friends at all.

Jett, however, seemed to love the fact that his parents were famous. One of the first things he ever said to Rebecca before they dated was, "You know my parents are in a band, right?" And ever since I heard that pickup line, I decided that he was disgusting. I especially hated that he seemed to be just as talented as his parents. Like he had to throw it in everyone's faces that he had great teachers.

He didn't call me for the rest of the week. I did both journal entries and wondered if we'd get in trouble for not splitting it up every day. But when I got to Biology on Friday, he was there facing the board and pretending I didn't exist. When I sat down next to him, he slid over a piece of paper.

"The journal entries I was supposed to do," he said.

"Um—thanks," I replied. I took the sheet even though we hadn't done it together.

"Mm-hmm."

Then he went back to pretending I wasn't there.

We spent the duration of the class shoving our journal entries into a barely passable essay. I told him I'd edit it over the weekend, and that was that. I didn't see him again until Monday. We got our week's journal assignment, which was something about DNA. And when class finished, Jett stood up, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and said, "I'll call you."

"Yep." I got my messenger bag and headed out into the hall.

Leiden had a dress code. It wasn't super strict, but we had to wear uniforms and couldn't wear piercings. They didn't care that I had blue hair, and sometimes I got away with wearing things that were a little sexy. I'd been waiting to get called into the principal's office since I dyed my hair, but no one seemed to care. I once delivered a note to the principal, and all he said was, "Thanks, Ashley." I didn't bother to correct him.

The first corridor of Leiden was just a long hallway of lockers on one side and windows and doors on the other. I headed through the hall to get to my trig class, and suddenly Jett Kanellis was at my side. He smelled like body wash, and when he swiveled around and blocked me, a stupid thick black curl fell in his eyes like he was about to jump into a photoshoot.

"You want to know why I fought with your brother?" he asked. I blinked several times before answering.

"Not really," I admitted.

"He targeted me, Aasha. My first day of school here. He saw me as some weak freshman kid and told me to meet him by that big old tree in the quad after school so we could fight. I didn't provoke him. He just decided to make himself look tough in front of all his friends. Like it was some kind of initiation. Like I had to be put in my place.

"I wasn't going to meet him. I tried to just go home after school because he scared the piss out of me. But his friends caught me in the hallway and dragged me out there. Your brother was bigger than me then. And he beat the shit out of me. I admit it, I got a few good punches in. I wasn't raised to take anyone's shit. But it was your brother and all his friends against me. So once they held my arms down, I couldn't fucking move.

"So you want to know why I wasn't nice to him? Because he made my first year of school here a fucking nightmare. But then I got bigger than him. Then he decided to leave me alone. Because now I was a threat and had friends, I started to push back. I didn't pick on him for no reason. I didn't start anything with him. I just got back at him. For every stupid snide comment. For every trip in the hall. For every time he elbowed me in the lunch line. I gave it right back. And I don't regret it."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because your brother isn't some innocent victim. He's an asshole. Just like you think I am. Yes, I picked on him. But he started it. I just gave it back. And if you ask him now, I bet you he'll tell you the truth. I defended myself. That's it."

"That's not what I was asking." We were standing in the middle of the hall, forcing people to walk around us to get to classes. Jett looked tall, tense, and desperate, and I couldn't figure out why.

"Then what are you asking?" he replied.

"Why do you care if I hate you or not?"

"I don't give a single fuck if you hate me, Aasha. But if you hate me, I want it to be for a good reason."

"What like attacking me in the corridor?" He took a step back and shook his head.

"I'm not attacking you, and you know it. Why do you always have to make everything seem worse than it actually is?"

"Look—just because I'm not falling at your feet like all the other girls here doesn't mean you have to try and win my favor. It's not going to happen. I don't care about you. I just want to finish this class and graduate, and then I'll never have to see you again." He chewed on the inside of his lip and nodded slowly.

"You're right," he said. "Forgive me for trying to be your friend."

"You were never going to be my friend."

"Of course not. Because you judge people without knowing them and never give them a chance to change your mind. You don't like me because you think I act like I'm better than everyone else. That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it, Aasha?" He turned and walked off.