The Life I'm Running From

4\ The Truths of Monday

The bell ran out through the halls. I was already in my seat, safe from the panic of being late the students at their lockers were facing. Mr. Bluffe shut the classroom door, and the students around me quieted.

After sharpening my pencil with my handy-dandy pocket-sized pencil sharpener, I looked up at the History teacher. He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "Before we begin the textbook pages for today, Harley Finn will read to the class his essay on Alexander Hamilton."

From the back of the class, someone cursed. I guess Harley had hoped Mr. Bluffe had forgotten about the punishment essay he had given last week. There was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and then he walked to the front.

I leaned back in my chair. Harley had started to read his essay—which wasn't actually that bad--but I wasn't really listening. No, I found it far more interesting to study his features. I really only had seen him from afar along with a few closer glimpses from twisting around in my chair. But now, at the front of the class, his presence is practically telling me to stare at him.

Harley is tall--taller than I had thought he was. He had been standing on a wall last time I had seen him fully, so that was probably why my judgement had been distorted. His hair is brown and curly, sort of like Annabeth's satyr friend's hair—I think his name is Grover—but tamer and shorter. Harley has the build of a tennis player crossed with a football player. He has wide shoulders and strong arms, but it looks like he lost the muscle in his legs.

"Hamilton wrote fifty-one pages—" Harley was saying. He ran a hand through his hair, buoying up the curls.

Yes, Harley had almost hit me with a football. But that unfortunately did not change the fact that he was hot. But I guess that's your stereotypical football player--attractive and a jerk.

I was so lost in my thoughts it took me a few seconds to comprehend that Harley was done, and the class was clapping. It was a rowdy clap, the kind the popular students got from their boisterous friends.

Mr. Bluffe crossed his arms. He seemed regretful that Harley had successfully done his essay. "Well done. I do hope that next time you'll touch your hair less."

Harley grinned. "Sorry, but I just can't help it." Then he promptly ran his hand through his hair again.

The next period passed slowly, and then it was lunch. I had been anticipating lunch the whole weekend. I was going to confront Adriana about her feud with Charlie. I was going to figure it out.

I beat Adriana to the cafeteria this time, and I sat down at a table in the middle of the room. Students bustled past me on all sides, rushing here and there. Adriana pushed through a group of sophomores to sit down.

"How was your weekend?" Adriana asked, unwrapping a burrito.

I didn't take out my sandwich. "Good. It was my cousin's birthday."

"The cousin you live with?"

"Yep."

If Adriana noticed my lack of talking, she didn't comment. I leaned forward on the cool, metal table with my elbow. "Adriana, why are you mad at Charlie?"

As if Khione had made Adriana one of her ice sculptures, the girl across from me froze. Her mouth was stiff when she said, "I didn't do anything."

I couldn't tell what she meant, so I stayed silent. Adriana continued, "Charlotte was jealous. I was dating Bradley Quinton, when she wanted to. Out of nowhere one day Charlotte yelled at me in the middle of the hallway, and told me to break up with Bradley. I told her no way, and she's hated me since." Apparently finished with her story, Adriana bit into her burrito.

So this was a love triangle situation. "Charlie tried to steal your boyfriend?"

"Yes. We broke up two weeks later, but still." Adriana looked at me. "Can we talk about something else now?"

I didn't understand. Charlie was the last person I'd expect to try and break up a couple. What I needed was the other side of the story.

Adriana and I finished lunch with no further mention of Charlie. We had an uneventful Home Ec. class, then I met with Charlie and Skylar in Math.

I figured the best way to find out Charlie's opinion was to pretend I hadn't just talked to Adriana about it. I didn't want to accuse Charlie of everything until I was sure.

After Miss Mayfair had assigned the textbook work, I turned to Charlie. She was wearing sparkly gold earrings today, which were distracting. I focused on her eyes instead. "Why do you hate Adriana?"

Charlie stilled in much of the same way Adriana had. Charlie looked down at her textbook, and her curls obscured her face. "Adriana stole my boyfriend."

Wait. What?

Charlie straightened up in her seat and looked over at me. "I was dating Bradley Quinton. She went on a date with him-a few actually. My friend caught them kissing at the movies and told me."

I restrained myself from dropping my jaw. So Charlie had been dating Bradley before Adriana?

"I told Adriana to back off from him, he was my boyfriend after all, but she wouldn't." Charlie sighed. "I broke up with him for cheating on me, and then she still continued to date him. It was like I was invisible to her. Then she just broke up with him like a week later. She always wants what she doesn't have."

I blinked twice, processing the information. Adriana wasn't the victim-Charlie was. I looked over at Skylar, but the other girl was looking downwards. She hadn't added any comments, and I wondered what she knew.

Charlie stayed quiet for the rest of Math. Skylar tried to fill the silence with comments about the lesson, but gave up quickly. I squeezed my stress ball as my eyes glazed over the textbook pages. I couldn't focus on equations-this drama was too interesting. And it still didn't quite make sense.

The teacher dismissed the class a half an hour later and I left to my locker. I wanted to talk to Skylar, but she had disappeared in the throng of students as soon as the bell had rung. We had Art tomorrow though, so I could talk to her then.

I had just slung my backpack over my shoulder and was rounding a corner when I ran straight into someone. Neither of us fell over or dropped anything, but it sure was a surprise.

"Oops," I said. "I should watch where I'm going."

The girl studied me with a narrowed look. "Yeah. Maybe you should." She was that one cheerleader who seemed to have her lips glued to a football player. She was wearing a crop top and cargo pants. It seemed weird to see her outside of her uniform-I guess I had always thought cheerleaders never took them off.

"Taylie—Taylie, come on, we're going to be late," a girl said, appearing out of nowhere.

Turning swiftly on the heel of her converse, the cheerleader-Taylie-walked away from me. Her ponytail swung back and forth from under her baseball cap as she walked away. I had a feeling she wasn't someone I would want to get to know better.

A/N

You'll see Taylie again, I can assure you.

Joshua Bassett is Harley's faceclaim, because I honestly love him. He fits the age. When I first picked him, hsmtmts hadn't come out, but now it has and honestly I love him even more. (Check out hsmtmts if you haven't, it's honestly really good. Like a more PG version of Rise, if you ever watched that TV show.)