Starlee's Turn (The Wayward Sons 2)

“I’ll get in line.” He waves me off to the bathroom.

I push open the door and am greeted by heat and, well…stadium bathroom smell. Most of the crowd is gone but I spot the huddle of blue glitter near the mirrors and duck into a stall quickly, before anyone notices.

I’d watched the cheerleaders from the stands—really getting the popularity allure. They’re fun, perky, beautiful in the traditional uniform. I never could do it, physically or mentally, but I found myself jealous of the excitement they generate. It’s definitely outside my wheelhouse of nervous energy and awkward moments.

“Did you see Ginger up in the stands? All snuggle bunny?” I hear a girl say. “Makes me want to barf.”

“She’s awfully confident for a new girl.”

New girl?

“Why wouldn’t she be?” another person says. “Four boys following her around everywhere. Christina? Did you ever hear back from Jake about homecoming?”

“Not yet. I think he’s too blinded by that southern twat.” I recognize Christina’s voice. “She probably doesn’t realize how dumb he is.”

There’s a smattering of giggles and I bite down on my tongue.

“He’ll come around,” someone says. “Maybe get him alone sometime.”

Christina snorts. “I would if I could. If he’s not around Ginger and the delinquents, he’s a regular monk. All those boys are. They didn’t come to a single event all summer. Not to the lake or the back-to-school parties.”

I hear the door swing open, bringing in a rush of air and noise from outside. Another voice pops out, “Look at that, it’s the whore-leaders.”

“Oh look. Claire the Edge-Lord Emo Queen is here.”

“Christina, I see you don’t realize that a lord is a man and a queen is a woman, but whatever, keep trying. Your brain will catch up to your mouth one day.”

Claire is the girl from my P.E. class who’s managed to have an excuse every day to sit in the bleachers scrolling through her phone. She seems aloof. A little edgy with her dark makeup and layers of clothes that still look stylish despite looking different. I guess I’m surprised she’s even here—but as I’ve learned, the football games are the place to be.

“Guess they let shamed cheerleaders into the game still,” one of the cheer girls says. It’s a weird but mean statement. I’m silent in the stall, hoping no one notices me.

“God, you’re pathetic.”

“You’re a crotch-munching whore.”

“At least I’m not an evil traitorous bitch.”

Even I feel the tension and voices rising in the room. A loud buzzer sounds in the distance. “Time to get back out there,” Christina says. “Later, loser.”

“Rah rah,” Claire mutters as the door opens and shuts. The room is quiet but I haven’t moved. Suddenly I hear, “You can come out now.”

There’s no doubt who she’s talking about, so I slowly open the door. Claire, dressed in black head-to-toe, without a single piece of blue on her, leans against the sink.

“How did you know I was in here?”

“I saw Dexter waiting outside with two hot chocolates.”

“Oh. Right. Good job, detective.” I walk over to the sink and turn on the water.

“Did they say anything to you?”

“No. Not to me, but about me, yeah. I think they call me Ginger.”

She laughs. “They totally call you Ginger.”

I pump soap in my hand. “And I think I’m in some kind of battle over Jake with Christina.”

She nods and watches me wash my hands. “Sounds right. Christina loves to twist reality to her benefit.” I turn off the water and reach for a paper towel. “I wouldn’t worry about it though, Jake left that trash a long time ago.”