Scholar

Fourteen

Unfortunately, I had to wake up half an hour early the next morning for school so Chelsea could cover the bruises on my face. No one questioned me the night before anymore about the fight, and I hoped they wouldn't.

"So, why did you get into that fight?" Chelsea asked as she gently applied makeup to my face which had a dull ache. I shrugged, and she raised an eyebrow, giving me an unconvinced look. "Was it over Jo?" I shook my head. I was sure Jordan told Chelsea everything and that they were piecing this together. "It was over Ryan, wasn't it?" Her eyes met mine. They were a dull brown.

"No, it wasn't." I snapped at her. I didn't know what to do with the way I felt about Ryan. It made my blood boil when Jeremiah was talking about him, and I just wanted to be around him whenever I could, even if we weren't talking. But I couldn't tell Chelsea that. She'd think it was some big deal while I was sure it was some stupid, temporary thing. At least, I hoped it was...for her sake.

"Alright, alright," she said calmly, gently smudging and rubbing more makeup against my skin. I shut my eyes as she finished, and I looked in the mirror. I turned my head from side to side, admiring the good work she did. The bruises were completely invisible. 

"Damn, I didn't even know you could do that with makeup," I commented. I saw Chelsea standing behind me, and she smiled and shrugged. Her head tilted slightly when she did, and her long ponytail swung from side to side.

"What can I say? I'm skilled as hell." I nodded.

"Hell yeah, you are." She giggled and pushed passed me to wash her hands. "Now, no touching your face, itching, crying, sweating, or rubbing."

"Seems a little strict, but okay."

I walked out of the bathroom and into my room. I quickly got dressed and walked downstairs. Chelsea threw her book bag and looked at me.

"It's snowing," she whined. I groaned.

"Guess we better go if we don't want to get caught in traffic, then," I told her. She nodded, and we got into my car.

Chelsea played music the whole way to school, and I was so glad she wasn't mad at me anymore. I felt like I could breathe a little easier and think a little clearer.

We got to school after a longer drive than usual and walked toward the school building. As we were walking through the parking lot, Chelsea nearly slipped on some ice and grabbed my arm, letting out a squeal.

"Jeez, you almost killed me!" I said, barely remaining balanced. Chelsea clutched my arm until we were safely inside.

"I almost died!" she protested. 

"Why would I care about that?" I asked with a smile. She hit my arm and shook her head.

"I hate you," she grumbled. 

"Yeah, sure," I sarcastically agreed. She sighed and looked down. Right before we reached the stairwell where our friends waited, she grabbed my arm.

"Wait, can we talk?" I nodded, confused. We went over to the opposite stairwell which was empty. She walked up them, and I followed, feeling more anxious with each step. I had no idea what this was about, but I knew it wasn't good if she wanted to do it in private. She sighed and faced me as she leaned against the wall.

"I don't like Ryan anymore, you know." she stated. I crossed my arms.

"Cool?"

"That means I'm okay if you do." I felt my throat go dry. I don't know why it felt good to hear her say that, but I shook my head. I could see it in her eyes. She refused to look me. She was slouched slightly with her arms crossed. She was anything but okay with the idea.

"I don't."

"I can see it!" she practically cried out. "The way you look at him, the way he looks at you...you guys have some type of connection. Everyone sees it." I shook my head. I hated seeing Chelsea like this, compromising herself for me. I hated it more than anything.

"Chelsea, listen to me!" I snapped. "I. Don't. Care. About. Ryan," I told her firmly. She sighed and pressed her fingers against her forehead. "Seriously, I'm just friends with him because you do."

"Okay," she said with a nod, seeming to calm down. I think she was relieved, but I felt sick after I said that. My stomach turned, and I felt incredibly guilty even though Ryan was nowhere near here. "I'm just gonna go to class." She walked passed me, back downstairs. I sighed.

"Okay," I said simply. I watched her walk downstairs and leaned against the wall. I thought making Chelsea feel better would make me feel better, but that wasn't even close to true. 

"So, you don't care about Ryan?" My heart turned to glass and fell out of my chest, shattering upon impact with the cold, tile floor. I slowly looked to my left and saw Ryan standing with his arms crossed. He was expressionless, but something in his golden, hazel eyes showed pain and hurt. I was at a complete loss for words.

"I..." I didn't know what to say. I hadn't meant a word, but he didn't seem like he would have believed that if I said it.

"You know, I can never make heads or tails of you," he said. "Sometimes you like me, and sometimes you hate me. I mean, yesterday you said I was something you cared about. Yes, by the way, I did piece that together. Was that all bullshit?" I shook my head ever so slightly, standing there like an idiot with my mouth agape. I was mentally screaming at myself to do something or say something. Anything. I couldn't. I felt like I was going to vomit or just die on the spot. Unfortunately, the latter didn't happen, and fortunately, the former didn't happen either. He scoffed and shook his head. "I don't know why I take anything you say seriously. You can't even make heads or tails of yourself." Ryan turned and walked away. I shook my head, burying my face in my hands.

What the hell was wrong with me? I don't know why it was so hard for me to admit that I had a soft spot for Ryan. I just couldn't admit that I had a weakness for him. I hated the idea of feeling so vulnerable because of one person. I told Ryan more than I'd ever told anyone before, and it scared me because now, instead of him having power over Chelsea, he had power over me. 

I was terrified.