Putting on Airs

Elbows and Eyeballs

Chapter One

Shoving the meaty arm off my shoulders for the third time under the heavy gaze of my "frenemy" Jade, I let loose a long, gusty-but-silent sigh from between my lips. Rocky finally takes the hint and moves on to someone I can't see past his mass.

"He's just doing that to get your attention, Jade. You're all he sees," I tell her before she has a chance to spit more derisive venom at me. Heaven knows her ego is fluffed enough that she'll believe anything that puts her in a better light, as long as it makes others look like lesser beings. I've learned in the past few months how to keep myself out from her crosshairs. Unfortunately, the knowledge had been earned the hard way.

I absently tug on my pleated cheerleader skirt as I think back to how Jade got her point across. Being the smallest on the squad, I was frequently called upon to be the flyer in the more advanced cheerleading stunts. I like the feel of freedom for those brief seconds while I'm in the air, flipping or perched on the hands of my squad-mates. I never asked for this role, and I really wouldn't mind it if I trusted the other squad members; Jade, being the cheer captain, carries a lot of influence.

When she thought I was welcoming Rocky's attention, she talked the bases in our stunt into collapsing the aerial hold while still gripping my right foot. What I could have normally landed safely, instead resulted in a severely sprained ankle and a twisted knee. I'm pretty sure she realized that she screwed over the squad right before competition because since then she hasn't done any damage to essential body parts; she just bruises ribs, and other non-visible things.

A loud voice breaks my reverie, and I realize I'd done what I should never do with this group of vipers—get lost in thoughts that have nothing to do with survival. "You said I would get an A," Rocky's angry voice growls.

"Yes, but for this test, Mrs. Ross graded on a curve. I couldn't make you get everything right, or they'd never believe it was your work. A C+ isn't bad at all," the reasonable reply returns with gentle sincerity. Poor guy must be Rocky's new "math tutor." He certainly goes through a lot of them.

The cheerleaders and a handful of jocks shift around, and I glance at the small keychain watch attached to my school bag. It's almost time for sixth period. Just this one last class, and I can leave for the college. When a hand lands on my shoulder, I angrily roll my shoulder up and around to dislodge it.

Unfortunately, it was not just the hand I dislodge. When my elbow connects with a face, I spin before the boy's broken glasses even have a chance to finish falling. I catch one half, and he catches the other. To my horror, the boy's face is bleeding where the plastic frames snapped and scratched him.

"Oh, I am so sorry," I half-shout over the others' laughter.

"Don't break my new math buddy, or you will have to add the word tutor to Rocky's girl," Rocky tells me through his laughter.

"I'll take you to the nurse," I tell the boy.

"Don't bother. He can find his own way," Carissa tells me through her sneer.

"Don't worry, Riss. It's not like I'll miss practice or the game tonight," I murmur as I take the boy's elbow.

"I'm so sorry. I thought you were Rocky again," I tell the boy who hasn't opened his eyes yet as we finally get away from the large crowd.

"I didn't mean to startle you. I was just going to ask what time it was," he explains while patting his pockets as though searching for a tissue or something.

We make it to the central area of the school, and I lead the boy through the doors to the nurse's office. I knock a couple of times and wait once I hear a cheerful male voice call out that they'd be just a second. When the door swings open, excited green eyes flash at me happily.