If I’d Known (Cursed 1)

"You get into The Basement?" the girl interrupts, her mouth hanging open.

"Who are you?" I ask, taking a moment to focus on her.

She's thin and angular with her hair pulled up in a messy bun that I know firsthand takes way more time to get right than it looks. She has this European thing about her with the almond shape of her eyes and the thin slope of her nose. She's pretty in an I'm-starving-myself kind of way.

"Emory. We have English lit together."

I nod like it means something. It doesn't.

"Lana doesn't participate in high school," Tori explains.

"But she's in class every day--mostly," Emory says, baffled. "You weren't there this morning."

Tori laughs. "I mean, she doesn't get involved in all the gossip bullshit. She has no idea who anyone is. Status means nothing to her."

/> "And it matters to you?" I question.

"Not really," Tori replies with a shrug. "But I know what's going on. Who's who. It's ... entertaining, like a Latin soap opera--overly dramatic and predictable. But you're completely oblivious."

"Because it doesn't matter," I say simply. "We're here for four years. This shit means nothing in the real world, where we actually have to survive."

"Not to us. But to them"--she nods toward Emory--"it defines them."

"That's pathetic."

Emory's face reddens, and I realize I was a bit too honest. I don't apologize for being too honest, otherwise that's all I'd be doing.

"We haven't been to a high school party since ... well, it's been a while," Tori delicately explains to Emory.

"But ... you're sophomores?" Emory questions, clueless. "I mean, I've heard about you, but I just thought ... " She doesn't finish. She must realize that what she heard was closer to the truth than most rumors.

I know we have a reputation. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it's obvious something's being said.

I stand. All the questions are annoying me. Tori stands with me.

"We've gotta go. Thanks for your help earlier," Tori tells her before we walk away.

"Why were you sitting with her?" I ask. "She's--"

"I know," Tori cuts me off with a sigh before I can find an appropriate--or inappropriate--word for the girl. "She let me copy off her earlier today. We had a pop quiz in biology. So you might have to put up with her for a little while until I can ditch her."

I nod, getting it. "Or I can stay away and let you deal with her. She asks too many questions."

"She's just trying to figure out what's true. There are so many stories going around about us; we're practically fictional."

"It's no one's business what we do when we leave here."

"Right. But that's what makes them talk more."

I roll my eyes. "Why do you even bother listening?"

"Because it's funny. There's one rumor that we're involved with the Russian Mafia."

"The Russian Mafia? Seriously? We're in the middle-of-nowhere Massachusetts. I don't think the Russian Mafia even knows this shit town exists. And neither of us is Russian. You're Puerto Rican. That's so dumb."

Tori laughs. "Told you it's funny."

I groan. "People are stupid."