Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 8

Gabby and I stroll through the mall after her meeting, the events of earlier shoved in the faraway corner of my mind. The last thing I want to think about is the drama that seems to ooze from the high school's walls. The Universe is still not satisfied with my torture. On top of everything terrible that is Hayden Cross, a few of his friends have decided to join him. One friend in particular—an old flame named Riley Young—decided that the only way to show how serious they were was to draw vulgar symbols (the oh so classic cartoon penis) on my windshield with window paint.

Because it's only Tuesday, the mall is relatively empty. There are a few stragglers whose summers have not yet ended, soccer moms trying their best to fit back into their high school weight at the glossy new gym, and students of Valleyfield on the same mission as us. This is my last homecoming dance ever and I want to make it a good one. Especially after what happened last year.

"Will you stop playing with your hair?" Gabby sighs and reaches over to pull my hands away from my head. It's hard to ignore the staring. There are people who can pull off blue hair; I'm just not one of them.

"I can't help it. I look awful." I grimace.

"No you don't," my best friend assures me, "You're like...you're like some badass, blue-haired khaleesi. So start acting like it, Daenerys."

I purse my lips together with a smile. Well, if you think about it that way... All I need are a few dragons to burn my enemies to a crisp.

"Should we check Charlotte's first?" Gabby questions, scanning the map of the mall she has downloaded on her phone. "Or—oh! Luna Vera has their display together already! Ten-percent off if you're a member! And guess who's a member?"

I reach over to take the purse she so carelessly hangs over her cast-wrapped arm, ignoring the tingling sensation on the back of my neck. It's just the paranoia accompanied with being in the presence of strangers. Most days, I don't mind it too much. But now with everything that has been going on, the added stress only intensifies my anxiety.

"As long as it doesn't break the bank, I don't care where we go."

My best friend rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "If I hear you say 'I don't care' one more time I will smack you."

My mouth drops open. "Hey I'm offended."

"You're always offended, Ember. And besides...Do I look like I care?" her hip bumps me. I hip-bump her back, flinching and profusely apologizing when her broken arm makes contact with a theater kiosk. "I get that you're trying this chill, I Don't Give a Fuck attitude," Gabby continues, "but this is homecoming. Please, oh please, give a fuck."

"I do," I insist. "It's just that the mall is a foreign place to me, okay? Not with the money issues and my dad being sick and my mom—well, you know that. I have no idea what the difference between Charlotte and Luna Vera and Forever 65 is."

Gabby slaps a hand over her mouth, choking back laughter in a way that makes her sound like a dying animal. My eyes narrow to slits. The eavesdroppers trailing behind us also dissolve into laughter.

"Forever 65?" she breathes. "Please tell me that was a joke."

I have had many failures in my seventeen and a half years on this planet, but I refuse to fail at being a teenage girl. Even if I haven't been inside one more than four times in my entire life. I smirk. "Of course. Contrary to popular belief, I did not crawl out of a swamp."

Gabby lets out a relieved breath. "Thank God." A glance past my shoulder drops her dimple-filled smile into a disgusted frown. Shrinking into herself, Gabriella narrows her eyes, her voice a low whisper. "No matter the time or the day of the week, the creeps are always out to play."