BIG SIS

11.2 Revenge is the Best Medicine

Kira woke him up in time for the bell, as promised. She also reminded Collin about the Student Council meeting after school, in that she told Collin he didn't have to come. "Go home and sleep, I'll sign you up. If you're still interested," were her exact words.

"I'll be there," Collin said. He wanted to give the Weavers time to deal with the news crews. Nothing at all to do with Kira's dimpled smile.

The nausea rolled back in soon after they parted ways. Collin fiddled with his phone under the desk, playing random games and ignoring Pak's increasingly annoying texts and generally doing his best to distract himself from his thoughts. He probably should've been listening to the teacher instead, but he was restless, nearly buzzing out of his skin. He wasn't really sure which class he was in. Fifth, probably. Or was it sixth period already?

Collin didn't have high hopes for his next report card.

The after-school rush kept the hallways busy and the school rumbling with noise long after the last bell. Collin took his time, for once not rushing for the bus or the parking lot or Iris. He got his stuff from his locker and climbed the four flights of stairs to the music room. The higher up he went, the heavier the air got. The fourth floor landing sparkled with dust turned gold with the light coming in through the floor to ceiling windows. It'd be pretty if it wasn't also making Collin's throat itch and his eyes water.

The fourth floor was a sort of attic space, half the size of the rest of the building and devoid of classrooms. The music room took about three-fourths of the floorspace. It was insulated behind two sets of double doors, the second heavy and sound-proof. Collin peered in through the strip of glass that ran down each door. The room was large, with open space in the middle that was usually occupied by chairs and kids filling flutes with spit. The chairs were stacked to one side, fencing in a large drum set. Plastic tables lined up the opposite wall, laden with food. Collin took note of the casserole dishes and colorful Tupperware with an internal wince. Shit, was it supposed to be a potluck thing? Damn Iris for binning those flyers.

"You're blocking the door."

Collin moved aside, mind mostly on how long it'd take him to run across the street for some chips and dip. The knee-jerk sorry got tangled in his teeth when he got a good look at the bristly newcomer. "Torn Jeans," he said instead.

Torn Jeans raised a bleached eyebrow. "What?" he snapped, then raised a hand, forestalling a response. "You know what, I don't care."

The boy shouldered past Collin and into the room. The weighted doors swished closed behind him, ruining his dramatic entrance. Collin rolled his eyes and let Torn Jeans have his moment before following the other boy inside.

The crowd was sizeable. Collin wove his way through, answering greetings from classmates he recognized only vaguely with a wave and an increasingly strained smile. He'd not bet on the Student Council being that popular. Was it cool to be a nerd in this school?

Kira was in the thick of things. She waved Collin over, pausing her conversation with a Student Council hopeful. The boy threw a dirty look at Collin; oh, look, Torn Jeans again. Collin's smile gained a few teeth.

"Collin, you remember David," Kira said after an awkward moment of silence.

Collin did not. Not by name, anyway. "Sure," he said, and offered David his hand.

David stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"You shake it," Collin aided.

David's jaw hardened visibly. Still, he shook Collin's hand, and even managed to squeeze a tortured, "Hello," between his teeth.