The Switch [COMPLETED]

Chapter 36

Paisley Monroe:

I avoided Asher until Mr. Petrell came back to tell us that they were ready for us in the auditorium. I knew that if he kept asking questions, he would eventually talk me out of my plan to confront Mackenzie, and I didn't want to be talked out of it. I had been quiet and passive for too long when it came to her and her stupid, unexplained vendetta towards me, and this was the last straw. I was sick of being her punching bag. So now, I was going to fight back.

I waltzed into the auditorium with a lazy smile on my face amidst ton of applause from my peers, followed closely by the boys and a very concerned looking Asher. Right before I was about to climb onto the small stage that had been set up for us, I felt someone tugging on the sleeve of my leather jacket. 

Asher.

"Just...don't do anything stupid, okay?" he said in a whisper, glancing nervously around the auditorium. 

I laughed and shrugged out of his grip.

"What, afraid I'm going to embarrass you?" I asked, rolling my eyes. 

"No," he said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't want you to accidentally make things even worse for yourself," he said in a small voice, looking down at the ground.

My eyes softened as I looked at him. It was sorta sweet that after all of this, he was still concerned about ME.

"I'm not going to do anything in front of everyone," I said, smiling reassuringly at him. "I'm going to talk to Mackenzie alone...and I'll be fine. I promise."

Asher bit his lip and looked at me through narrowed eyes for a moment before finally uncrossing his arms and sighing. 

"Fine," he said with a flick of his wrist. "You do you."

I nodded and turned to continue up the small stage steps, but I was stopped once again by the sound of Asher's voice.

"And hey," he said with a smirk. "Knock 'em dead up there."

I nodded and smiled gratefully before hopping up the steps two at a time and jogging up to the microphone.

"Hellllooooo, beautiful people of Arizona!" I yelled, flinging my arms out to address the kids that I had seen every day in the hallway for years, and yet hadn't said more than five words to. The same people that, if they knew who I really was, probably wouldn't give two thoughts about me. Now, they were screaming and yelling and reaching their hands out to me as if I was their queen.

I hated to admit it, but it felt kind of good. Good to be seen. Good to be noticed. Good to be praised. 

I glanced over at the side of the stage and saw Asher chewing nervously on his bottom lip. Just as I thought, not a single eye was directed towards him - towards Paisley. It didn't matter who I was dating. It didn't matter that I was the REASON Asher Halen and his band were at my school. People still didn't care about me. Their hateful messages proved that. Heck, I had received messages from most of the people in this auditorium right now; the same people who were currently cheering and clapping for me. If only they knew who I really was...

I scanned the crowd and let an impish grin drift over my face as Tucker began playing the beat for our first song. Almost as if I was on autopilot, I began singing and dancing, performing coming easier and easier to me over the months. 

Finally, I found what I was looking for. 

There, in the back row, nestled between a pretty brunette and a sandy-haired football player, stood Mackenzie. She wore a look of disdain on her face, and I followed her gaze to the side of the stage.

To Asher. Of course. Of course Mackenzie was the only person in the entire auditorium who was paying any attention to "Paisley."

The look of disdain quickly changed to one of pure delight when she ripped her gaze away from Asher and saw that I was looking directly at her. In an instant, her scowl was replaced with a sultry smile and she stood up straighter, tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she batted her eyes at me.

I kept my expression neutral, but never once did I take my eyes off of her. As the mini concert continued and song after song played, I could just feel my resentment, hurt, and anger growing - and not just towards Mackenzie. 

I was angry at Mackenzie, of course. I was angry at Mackenzie for the months and years of pointless, inexplicable teasing and taunting and mistreatment. But she wasn't the only one I was mad at. And with every beat of Tucker's drumsticks against the drums, I felt myself getting angrier and angrier.

I was angry at my mom for expecting me to adopt and maintain an image of perfection that was never, ever attainable. 

I was angry at my dad for never doing anything about it - for spending his days at the golf course and brunch and the office pretending that his little postcard family was perfect instead of actually coming home to spend time with us. 

I was angry at my sister for somehow knowing the secret - for somehow discovering the hidden formula to actually meeting my parents' impossible standards. 

I was angry at myself for never being enough. 

But none of those people were here right now.

Just Mackenzie. 

And she was about to be the dumping grounds for eighteen years of anger and bitterness.

I smiled sinisterly as the last note of the final song faded out into the auditorium.

Buckle up, Mackenzie. It's showtime.