The Renovation Complication

47. Definitely the Wrong Anderson

I don't think time has any pity for the weakened. Because here I am, in the hallway of Hansen High on Monday morning and I still feel empty. I had an entire twenty four hours to repair from the low blows my neighbour-who-shall-not-be-named hit and it wasn't enough.

There will never be enough time for that.

I am walking beside only my shadow and a cloud of oestrogen floating my way. I have no Katherine to protect me from these demonic creatures, I have nobody.

They've all left me.

I hold my breath and try to retract the stray tendrils of bed hair as the girls bustle pass, a blur of squeals and sticky perfume. Just when I think they've passed, my eyes snap onto an unmoving figure in the crowd.

Jet black hair, skin tight clothing, and stormy eyes. And they're definitely not happy. Not to mention that they're fixated on me.

"I thought I told you," She just about whispers through a few stray cheerleaders, "that he was mine."

He is. He doesn't want me, remember?

I nod, brows creasing. "What happened?"

Of course he-who-must-not-be-named is into Kasey, otherwise why would he be so fixated on kissing her? A pang of jealousy rips through my veins as I realise that this is my 'one-up'. This is the better choice. And she's standing in front of me with liquid welling up in her eyes.

"Two years," She says, eyes widening in a desperate attempt to blink away the tears. "I followed him like a puppy for two years. He always told me that he didn't like me that way," She crosses her arms, self-conscious, "but I pretended he was lying. I'm so stupid."

She sniffles and I instinctively rush forward to comfort her, forgetting our places in the presumed social ladder. Kasey isn't a nasty person, nor a stupid one, she just liked the wrong boy for a long time.

I guess I know how she feels.

"It's okay, Kasey." I pull her thin frame into an embrace and she starts sobbing silently into my shoulder.

Is it a bad time to say how nice she smells? And that her hair is so straight, I wonder if it's like that naturally or –

"God, I'm so pathetic," She croaks, "Crying on the shoulder of the mistress, right?" She laughs painfully and again I'm confused beyond reason.

If Mason was so hooked on Kasey, why would he eliminate her as a toy? I mean, he should have done it years ago, when she could emotionally handle it, but why? And why now?

"What did he say to you?" I grind through my teeth. What a jerk.

"H-He said that..." She pauses to pull back and wipe her bloodshot eyes, smudging mascara over the good part of her face. I try not to cringe at the sight. "That he didn't want to lead me on. He said it was over between us. Whatever 'us' ever was." She says the last part through her hands.

This girl, this poor, helpless, stiletto heeled girl who I thought at first glance to be the cliché popular cheerleader, had had her heart broken by a boy who didn't even like her. Yeah, me too.

Oh, stop being so whiny.

"You don't need him." At this point I don't know who I don't say his name for, myself or Kasey. "You'll be just fine. You're going to be more than fine."

She nods and tries to forcibly wipe at her cheeks, but to no avail. There are a few passers-by who stare at horror at the panda eyed supermodel and her sleep deprived, bed head friend.