Superior

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Caleb

I'll admit, when Carlie suddenly appeared amidst the tables clinging to Stevie Jackson, I was more than a little bit surprised. She was whispering something to him with a devilish light in her eyes, something that made him smile. As Delaney disappeared from view under the table, all I could focus on was the way their hands were clasped together so effortlessly.

Every muscle in my body yearned to slide down in my seat and make myself invisible, but I hadn't gotten where I was by being a wimp. Instead, ignoring the feelings of confusion and vexation raging through me, I sat up straight and lifted a slice of cheese pizza to my lips, forcing myself to take a bite even as the pair approached.

Two seconds later, Carlie saw me.

At first her gaze merely dusted over me. Then her eyes snapped back, meeting mine, and a sudden look of horror dawned upon her features. She ripped herself away from Stevie, gasping. It only took a moment for her to compose herself, but by that time Stevie had noticed her shock and seen me as well.

"Caleb," Carlie said slowly, stretching a plastic smile across her lips, "fancy meeting you here." Though she seemed completely collected, I saw her fingers twitch as she spoke. Obviously, she hadn't intended for this encounter to happen any more than I had, which made us even.

Although, it seemed she had more to incriminate her than I did.

"Ditto," I replied fluidly, setting down my pizza. "Particularly you, Stevie." Keeping a poker face, I tried to pretend like none of this bothered me, when in reality I was ready to explode in a fit of rage.

"Not that it's any of my business," I continued sarcastically, "but what are you both doing here?"

To his credit, Stevie looked genuinely contrite as he stared intently at the tiled floor beneath his feet. Carlie shifted for a moment, her lips twisting with unmistakable discomfort. She glanced around nervously, as if searching for an answer in the air, and pulled at the hem of her too-short black dress. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes lit on something on my table and widened.

"I could ask the same of you," she retorted, her usual indignation back at full blast. "Obviously, you have company as well." Fury made her nostrils flare as she stabbed a finger at Delaney's piece of pizza, still sitting untouched on its plate.

I cursed mentally, but wiped my face clean of a reaction. "Maybe I just like using two plates."

"Don't feed me that crap, Caleb. I know you, and you wouldn't go out alone on a Sunday night. So 'fess up. Who is she, and where did she go?"

I tried not to glance down, where Delaney was hiding. "I don't think you're in any position to be interrogating me like this."

Carlie's eyes narrowed to slits. "Stevie," she said quietly, without looking at him, "maybe you should leave."

The boy immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Carlie held up a quieting hand, her eyes still on me. "Just go. I'm done with you. You've served your purpose."

Just then, I became aware of eyes on me, and realized that people at a few of the nearby tables were watching our exchange with uncanny interest. A moment later, I found that I recognized every single wide-eyed face staring me down. And then it hit me. All of this was set up by Carlie. It was a clever, Rank-boosting orchestration, and my appearance was the only flaw.

A sick feeling weighed down my stomach.

Carlie, catching my momentarily disconcerted expression, smiled with infuriating smugness. She leaned her hands on the edge of the table, swishing her blonde hair so it caught the light.