Bitter

eighteen - lydia

Weird was one word to describe what I was witnessing Monday morning at school. Cal walking in the hallway all alone? Now that was a sight to see. And if that wasn't interesting enough, Zach and Marco were talking with the new boy again near the vending machine in the cafeteria. As Cal passed their tiny group, the three boys followed him with their eyes, all while running their mouths in a constant conversation.

   Cal paid no mind to anyone around him, ignoring all of the stares coming from the other students getting out of his way. One of those students was Meg, and she did not look happy. She had lightning in her gaze as she shouldered by him, her friends glued to her side, giving Cal nasty looks. I still didn't know the names of those girls.

I felt like I wasn't supposed to see Cal like that. It was just so strange that he was walking down the hall by himself, hands in his pockets, avoiding everyone around him. It wasn't until I got to my first class of the day that my curiosity grew, wrapping itself around my brain like a vine.

   I was scribbling down some math equation in my notebook in Mr. Lyon's classroom, when I couldn't help but hear snippets of Zach and Marco's conversation behind me. I immediately stopped writing.

   "Yeah, and I told him what Cal said," one of them whispered, "about him and stuff."

   "What'd he do?" the other voice asked.

   "He said he was gonna do something right after school. I don't know what though," the first voice returned.

   I shifted in my seat a little, briefly drowning out the boys and bringing my pencil back down on my paper to finish my equation. What were they even talking about? Who were they even talking about?

   "He said we have to meet him in the school lot, like, right after the bell rings," one of the boys added. The lead of my pencil broke off, maybe because I had been writing too hard or maybe because I had a bad feeling about Zach and Marco's conversation. I didn't really know, but what I did know was I'd be fighting my way through crowds of students to get to the parking lot directly after my last class.

   "Cal deserves it," mumbled either Zach or Marco. That was when I knew something was definitely wrong. Wasn't I supposed to be the only person who despised Cal? It was like I'd stepped into a totally different dimension, where everything was upside down. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

   Checking the clock above Mr. Lyon's desk, I realized there really wasn't that much time in a day. I couldn't stop thinking about how Cal had something coming for him in less than six hours, and he was completely oblivious.

———

   "Alright, guys, remember to get that essay done before this Thursday and we'll all go over it Friday," Mrs. Hatcher announced while everyone flooded from their chairs to the door. I rushed past everyone, slipping through the doorway and into the hall where I was almost run over by a couple of people carrying their band instruments. I didn't let that slow me down though as I headed for the parking lot, sunlight pouring through the window at the end of the hallway. The light at the end of a student-packed tunnel.

   The whole way there I was just hoping I wasn't going to be too late. I just wanted to know what was going on. Whatever ended up happening, I just knew no one would tell me about it afterward. Seeing this for myself would cut that vine of curiosity that had been squeezing my mind all day.

   I burst through the double doors and scanned the lot full of cars and other students, all itching to leave school. It was an unbelievably warm and sunny day for October, and definitely too sunny, too optimistic for what I saw next.

   They were all already there, watching. Zach, Marco, Jason, and Meg. They were just standing there (Marco smirking a little) as the school's new boy gave a final blow to Cal's face with his fist. I guess I'd gotten there too late like I'd expected to. I hurried over to the group as Cal fell back against his car and before I knew it, I was slowing down because I had entered everyone's field of vision and they had looked over at me.

   Before I could say anything to fill the awkward silence, the new boy spoke. "You friends with him?" he demanded to know, gesturing towards Cal who was sinking to the pavement, a trail of blood leaking from his nose. Cal's dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and with zero hesitation, I shook my head.

   "Good," the new boy replied with a grin that I could only describe as unnatural. Like he didn't smile often and when he did, it was all just an act.

   A string of expletives escaped Cal's mouth suddenly. His shaky hand hovered over his nose and he grimaced when he touched it lightly, cherry red staining his fingers. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it was possible I could feel bad for Cal. Yet, there I was, feeling exactly that. I hated it.

   "Hey," the new boy said. I tore my gaze away from Cal and turned to the stranger. He was looking me up and down, and though his silver eyes made me want to hide, I found myself paralyzed. There was something about him that was familiar, but I just couldn't figure out where I'd seen h—

   "You're coming with us," he decided for me. Apparently he didn't have to ask. I barely even registered what he said until he started coming closer.

   "Wait, what?" I blurted, stepping backward.

   "You're coming with us," he repeated again, as if that clarified anything. "We'll all have a great time," he assured, looking back at the others behind him. It should be obvious that when someone tries to convince you to do something, and you know every word coming from their mouth is a lie, you shouldn't listen to them.

Now don't get me wrong, I knew this new boy wasn't a good person, I could just sense it somehow. However, my hatred for Cal was bubbling and boiling over again and any sense I had left me. It was the perfect way to get back at Cal for everything he'd done to me. Hanging out with his "friends" and a guy who had just punched him? It was perfect.

I didn't notice the new boy taking my hand and I didn't even feel my feet moving. It was like I was floating towards his car with the rest of Cal's friends, and when I looked back, Cal was sitting against his car, staring at me as the blood ran from his nose onto the gray pavement beneath him.

I didn't feel bad for him. I didn't. Right? I couldn't.