ROUGH DRAFT of Loser || WlW

Twenty-Four

 The principal's voice is booming through the gym, loud enough to rattle the surrounding neighborhoods. "The moment we've all been waiting for..." She adjusts her skirt and clears her throat. "Please, welcome the cheer squad." She extends the words to sound like a sports broadcaster.

Everyone is cheering as the group of girls in short skirts and cropped tops runs to the middle of the basketball court. My eyes shift to the spot where Claire should be. Front and center, leading everyone through the different chants.

Trevor is sitting on the other side of the gym wearing his letterman's jacket, smirking at some cheerleader, and checking out her ass when she's not looking. He moved on fast.

I glance at Allison who pretends not to notice me. She joined a new group of nerds. Sometimes, when they pass me in the hallway, they step in between us and mad-dog me. I wonder what she said to make them think they need to protect her from me.

I must have zoned through the entire rally because, by the time I start paying attention, Principal Johnson is introducing the final portion of the event. "And finally, please give a warm welcome to Miss Brittany Davis, our homecoming queen from last year."

Brittany struts through the gym, removing her sunglasses as she makes her way toward Principal Johnson. Someone lets out a low whistle. She winks at the kid playfully and the crowd erupts in giggles.

"Miss Davis has confirmed that," the principal clears her throat, "despite recent events, she will attend tonight's homecoming game to pass the crown to this year's winner."

Brittany stands next to the principal, gives a nod, and a movie smile. She's made for the attention. The way she holds her head high and acknowledges the crowd like she's friends with each person.

Her eyes meet mine. My heart stops; pounds in my throat. I half-wave.

Something dark crosses her expression before her attention snaps back to the principal who's talking about the candlelight memorial scheduled after the game.

She still believes I killed Claire.

I swallow and clench the strap of my backpack. I'm not listening as Principal Johnson releases us, asking for promptness to our next class. My focus is on Brittany. I push through the crowd of kids, muttering an 'excuse me' as I go.

I catch up with Brittany in the parking lot.

"Brittany," I breathe.

She turns on me, her posture stiff.

I flinch away. "Brittany, I don't know what you want me to say." I take a step back. "You know I didn't kill Claire."

Her eyes narrow at me. "Do I?" she asks between clenched teeth. When I don't respond, she adds, "Why was she in your car?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. I want answers too. Let me help."

Her lips pull into a snarl as she rolls her eyes. "I don't trust you anymore." Her voice shakes as silent tears slide down her cheeks. She shakes her head and climbs into her car without another word.

The day goes by in slow motion. I check the clock again. It's only been three minutes. The teacher's words sound like a different language. I'm going to fail if I don't pull myself together but I can't keep my thoughts from racing back to Brittany. The look on her face from across the gym, eyes narrowed, fists clenched. Goosebumps ripple up my arms.

I'm the first one out the door when the bell rings, racing through the parking lot toward my dad's car. Half of Jefferson High is gathered on the sidelines of the football field, separated by clique and social status.