Jealousy Best Served Devious (Clash Of Cliches Book 1)

Chapter 13- Shadow of Truth.

Chapter Thirteen

Shadow of Truth.

Normally, I'm the kind of girl who hates Mondays and school (in no particular order). I've signed dozens of petitions to have four day weekends which never seem to go anywhere and, on days when my dad drops me off at school, I've taken about 20 minutes to lace up my Converse sneakers by the front door, almost making him late for work while I grumble and complain.

The Monday after my boardwalk date with Tyler was different, though. I couldn't wait to leave the house. And my eagerness had nothing to do with wanting to hear whether the grapevine was buzzing about Tyler and I. Nope, I was up at 7 and out of the door by 7.45am because I didn't want to chance running into my mom. You see, my mom is the queen of holding grudges, and she was still pissed at me for hanging out with Tyler on Saturday. Even though I lied to her and told her we had been with a group of friends, and Tyler just drove me home, I knew she wasn't buying it. Mom was no one's fool, and not even her devious daughter could try to blindsight her.

Even though I tried...

"Like I said, ma petite fille chérie, you can be friends with whoever you want," was all she would say on the subject whenever I cornered her in the laundry room, in the backyard shed, in Arielle's bedroom...

Mom is second generation French Guianese, and she only speaks French when she's excited or, you guessed it, angry. And when she calls me 'ma petite fille chérie ', it's the equivalent of regular parents calling their kids by their full names when they're in trouble.

Trust me, you do not want to be called 'ma petite fille chérie' by Noelle LaFontaine Bailey.

I spent the rest of the weekend working diligently on my Wuthering Heights essay, trying to show mom that I was a good student who made good decisions and didn't fraternize with bad boys like Tyler. Inside, though, I was freaking out. How was mom going to react once I told her that we were 'dating'? Because I would be damned if I told my family about the desperate measures I was taking in order to get Ryder's attention. Everyone was forever talking about how dramatic, crazy (haha thanks but that hurts, guys), and stubborn I was- this was sure to ruin my reputation if the whole truth came out.

My head held high, I walked to my locker before my first class of the day with Janessa, who took it upon herself to proofread my essay. She had just gotten out of an early softball practice and was filled with energy.

"It's just the first draft," I protested as she pointed out typo after grammatical error, cackling loudly. "It doesn't need to be perfect."

"Honey, you need all the help you can get," Janessa replied, snickering as she continued to read. "Who is 'Heathrow' supposed to be? Did they even have airports back then?"

Rolling my eyes to the ceiling as I hit up my locker, I let Janessa critique my essay. It was easier than arguing with her, which was something I was unprepared to do this morning.

A tap on my shoulder made me twirl around on my heels. I found myself staring into Roza Tamayo's flawless face. Roza was a cheerleader and I think most of the girls at Sao Marino High low-key hated on her because she never wore makeup, and yet her tan skin was always clear, eyelashes thick and dark, lips pink and pouty. Not fair. And yet, she was without doubt the chillest cheerleader on the squad, keeping to herself and staying out of drama. "Hey, Kaylee," she said in her faintly accented voice, her lips turning up into a smile. "I just wanted to be the first to warn you."

"Warn her about what?" Janessa asked, popping up from the other side of me, my essay clenched in her hand. Thank God for Janessa. I had wanted to ask Roza the same thing, but I couldn't get past the fact that she knew my name, and my question stuck in my throat. She took mostly AP and college level classes, and I was nearly flunking English! Nearly.