Bitter

twelve - lydia

   He was talking to her Friday morning before school started, right in front of the pillar near the water fountain. I knew what he was doing and yet, it didn't fail to make me mad. There were plenty of students crossing the hallway, streaming into classrooms or stopping to meet with friends, but somehow, Cal and Meg remained perfectly in my line of sight. I was sneaking glances at them from outside the library, Meg's back to me, and I tried to ignore how Cal was most relishing every second of my irritation.

   At one point, Cal looked past Meg and locked eyes with me, to which I immediately turned my attention to my phone. A moron and a traitor. Perfect for each other.

The warning bell rang, but I stayed put, knowing I had around ten more minutes until the school day officially started. I watched Cal point to something down the hall, past me, and when I turned subtly to look, I realized what they were discussing. A glittery poster adorned in sticky stars and planets announcing homecoming was strung up on the wall, right above the doorway that would eventually take you all the way to the main entrance of the school. It was two weeks away.

Stuffing my phone in my pocket, I continued to gaze at the poster, until someone caught my eye. With slow, relaxed strides through that doorway, underneath the cosmos above him, was a student I'd never seen before being accompanied by Principal Norris herself. I guess she had woken up from hibernation.

The boy, who looked too old to be in high school, kept his dull eyes trained on the very end of the hall, taking no notice of any of the students on either side of the hallway. They had all paused and were whispering now, never tearing their gazes away from what appeared to be a new student. Principal Norris snapped at a group of juniors to stop staring, but none of them listened (not that they would've under normal circumstances either).

Norris and the man disguised as an eighteen-year-old passed by me. Norris wore her usual nude heels, clicking with each step, while the new student strolled along in distressed, baggy pants and a thick, black jacket that emphasized the color of his short, darker-than-midnight hair. He had one backpack strap over his shoulder and the only way I could describe how he walked was lazy. Cal walked with confidence in every step, demanding attention. The boy, who was almost at the end of the hall (I still couldn't believe he was a student), leisurely trudged forward. He didn't need to demand attention from anyone. He already had everyone's as soon as he sauntered in under that homecoming banner.

   Cal and Meg were both still talking, but I saw his eyes flicking over to Norris and the new kid every so often. From where I was standing, I could see Cal had completely abandoned his conversation with Meg and was peering at the boy with the inky black hair. Meg turned to look as well.

   I recognized that look on Cal's face. I'd seen it when I had moved here, on the very first day of elementary school. Cal had looked at me like that all those years ago, and it didn't mean anything good. That look meant he felt threatened, that he would be tossed offstage into the audience, out of the familiar beam of the spotlight. And when Cal Warrick felt threatened, he did anything to have people talking about him and only him. Even if that meant starting a rivalry with someone lasting eleven years.

Cal was committed, I'd give him that.