Razzledazzle [ ✓ ]

Chapter 18 | The Blame

The next day, Lee is back in school, looking just as generally annoying as he always looks. I can see the faint bruises on his face. Everyone can.

Except for Troy.

Troy isn't here today.

I sit down in my seat, but instead of Glory, there's someone else next to me: Trinity Washington. I look in front of me and see that she's traded places with Glory: Glory is sitting beside Alex now.

Is that how it's going to be?

It's on.

Meanwhile, Alex is jeering insults at Lee, as usual, but it just doesn't feel the same anymore. It feels different somehow.

"Hey, Lee," she calls. "You know what your girlfriend's name is?"

"What?" he asks, looking equally as rude.

"Nonexistent." She and Glory burst into laughter and Lee just sticks out his tongue. I don't know why I have the sudden urge to say something, but either way, I don't.

I don't say anything.

What would I say?

"Quiet down, class," Ms. O'Carthy snaps, and everyone promptly shuts up. "I'm not going to both calling roll—everyone's here, right? Except for Troy."

"Where'd Troy go?" asks Glory loudly. I almost miss her sitting beside me—no. She can't be on Troy's side.

"Troy was suspended for two days."

Just two days? He beats the living snot out of Lee and he's only suspended for two days? That doesn't seem fair.

I think Ms. O'Carthy's playing favorites.

"Why?" Glory hisses. "He was just defending himself. That's all. He didn't mean to hit Lee so hard."

"That's not what someone told me," she replies coldly, snapping her fingers.

Hmm.

Maybe she isn't on Troy's side after all.

"Who was that someone?" scoffs Glory. "Rose? Wouldn't surprise me. Always sticking up for that stupid idiot moron."

What?

"It wasn't me! I swear!" I interrupt. It isn't me. I never talked to Ms. O'Carthy. I was still mad at her for taking Troy's side in the beginning.

"Do you hear that?" Alex asks. "That's the sound of a liar."

"I'm not a liar!" I cry. "It wasn't me!"

Glory just rolls her eyes—she does it so much, it's so rude, it drives me crazy. I can't believe I'm friends with her.

No.

I used to be friends with her.

"Troy isn't the point of this discussion," the teacher snaps. "Neither is Rose. The person that told me what happened in the fight doesn't matter. That person wished to stay completely anonymous."

Alex snorts. "Anonymous. Sounds like a big word that Rose would use."

Considering the fact that's coming from Alex's mouth, Alex the sarcastic smart one, it's almost funny.

But it isn't.

"Anonymous," repeats Lee, smirking.

"Yeah, great job you did there," Tyler adds, also smirking. "You kept them anonymous, all right."

Do they all think it's me? Are you serious?

It's not me. It's not.

"Guys, it isn't me!" I shout. Huh. I don't know why I'm getting so mad, usually I'm the calm one.

"No one said it was you," Lee says, his voice too-sugary.

"Can we just drop the whole subject!" screeches Ms. O'Carthy. "Please."

"Hey, don't yell at me, I never did anything," Tyler says.

Ms. O'Carthy ignores him. "Now. You're supposed to be sketching your T-shirt designs. Actually, you were supposed to do it yesterday, but with the incident yesterday, I don't think that happened."

Lee snorts. Everyone's looking at him, and I think he likes it that way. He's practically famous—known as the poor little kid.

I'm not sure it was exactly what he was going for, but he'll take it.

Of course he will.

"Don't give Cancer any more attention than he deserves," she snaps. "He doesn't need the extra pride, even if he was injured in a fight."

"You can say that again," Alex mutters.

"I'm not exactly on your side, either, Lansky," she says. "I don't have a side—I think this fight you're all starting is remarkably petty."

Ms. O'Carthy turned back to her desk, as if that was the end of that conversation. "I expect you to all work on your designs," she commands.

"But Ms. O'Carthy," Lee moans. "My leg hurts too much to do anything right now."

The teacher rolls her clear blue eyes behind her rounded glasses. "I should hope that your leg injury isn't affecting your arm, Lee."

"Did I say leg? I meant my brain. My brain is killing me right now." He flops dramatically onto the floor.

"What brain?"

Lee doesn't seem to have an answer. He sulks and goes back to his desk, limping on his injured leg. I felt a surge of pity—

No! I can't feel sorry for him! He doesn't deserve it. He's a sick idiot who kicked my friends out of his own house.

My ex-friends.

What am I saying? I can't be choosing Lee over Glory and Alex! This is crazy! I'm not falling for this moron—I can't.

Sighing, I took out my T-shirt from my backpack and started to work on it, tracing a rough sketch of my design with a pen. I didn't bother to pay attention to my work.

I was distracted.

Who was the person that had told Ms. O'Carthy  about Troy truly trying to hurt Lee? Did Lee know? And when was this going to stop?

I looked over at Lee and I could almost see the glimmer of revenge in his electric-blue eyes.

This isn't going to stop anytime soon.

In fact, I think it's only going to get worse.