The week progressed smoothly until after lunch on Wednesday. If ever a day had been created full of ill will, it would be Wednesday. It’s like it just sat there in the middle of the week, taunting me with the two days of school yet to go before we’d reach the weekend.
Bastard.
Despite being unable to avoid my incredibly sexually attractive friend John since he and Anders had taken to sitting with us at lunch every day, things were okay. I’d been able to keep a lid on my feelings. Who knows, maybe denial and repression were good for the soul.
The bell for class rang, the hallways crowded with people. Chatter, laughter, all sorts of loud noises. Happily, none of it set off a panic attack. My freak-outs weren’t coming on as often these days. I don’t know if it was due to therapy or what, but I liked it a lot.
I stood at my locker, switching books, when someone touched my butt. Not a passing, possibly accidental sort of thing. No way, this was a full-on grab a handful of my flesh and give it a good, bruisingly hard squeeze. Followed by male laughter.
I spun, face no doubt full of surprise. “What the hell?”
“If it’s good enough for John, hey?” the Neanderthal said. What he lacked in height he made up for in muscles. I think I recognized him from Chemistry. More laughing from his crew of equally athletic-looking idiot friends.
“Go fuck yourself,” I said in my most eloquent voice. My hands balled into fists, I wanted to hit him so badly. It didn’t matter that he was packing serious muscle. It no doubt wouldn’t end well, but whatever. Pain, hospital, detention, suspension. They were all problems for some remote future. What mattered right now was payback, and replacing that smirk on his face with something a lot uglier.
The sudden thought of Mom intruded on my rush of anger. Her picking me up from the hospital. Again. Her disappointment as she related her conversation with the principal. Again.
My fists stayed by my side, knuckles white.
My fury just made them laugh harder. Hell, there were even some chuckles from others strolling past. Rage roared to life inside of me. If ever I’d had the urge to burn things down, it was then. He did not have the right to do that. To touch me however he wanted. Then to treat touching me, and my outrage at his doing so, like a joke.
No way. Not happening.
Maybe I couldn’t break his nose without breaking my mother’s heart, but I had other options. I just needed some time to think things through. Revenge would be mine.
As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one who wound up in detention that afternoon. (I hadn’t meant to almost doze off during Math again, honest.) I’d no sooner pulled out a book and pen when the Neanderthal himself slunk through the door. Holy shit. Bloody toilet paper filled both nostrils and his nose looked seriously swollen. Behind him came none other than John.
Coincidence? Not so much.
Ever so calmly, he sat down at the desk beside me, pulling out a textbook.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“I have things under control.” A complete lie, though it made me feel better. Capable, even. “And didn’t you tell me violence is not the answer?”
“Can’t remember.”
He hadn’t wanted to get dragged into any of my drama at school. He’d definitely said that. And seeing how he’d given up dealing and was putting a real effort into studying, I understood. Besides, I didn’t need him to defend me. I might not win every battle, but I was more than willing to fight for myself.
“I mean it, you shouldn’t have.” I leaned closer to him, talking quietly. “You said you’re taking school seriously, cleaning up your act. Not adding to your record because of me, remember?”
“He won’t touch you again.”
“John.”
“Relax,” he said, flipping through the pages. “It’s fine. You’re making too big a deal out of this.”
“Bullshit,” I hissed. “Why is there one set of rules for you and another for me?”
“Because I never knew a girl I wanted to look after before.”
That shut me up.
From the front of the classroom, the teacher watched us with a warning in his eyes. Apparently detention involved less catching up with your friends than I realized. No wonder I used to put more effort into avoiding it.
“We’re talking about this later,” I said.
One shoulder lifted, all nonchalant. “Sure. Whatever you want, Edie.”
He slipped out at the end of detention before we could talk and I didn’t get a chance to speak to him for the rest of the school week. He started spending every lunch on the basketball court with Anders, and was the last person to arrive at English and the first to leave. Jerk. Guess he didn’t like being told what to do any better than I did.
“If he makes you cry, he’s not worth it.”
Hang winked at me, setting a pot of rice down on the dining room table. “I don’t think he makes her cry, Mom.”
“We really are just friends,” I said.
“Of course you are.” Hang smirked. “He’s so unattractive, Mom. Edie couldn’t possibly be interested in him. All those yucky muscles and cheekbones like a Rodin sculpture. Disgusting.”
“Boys,” her mom said, voice full of scorn.
At the other end of the table, her dad kept his head down, ladling a chicken-and-noodle dish called pho into a bowl. There were steamed greens and a spicy dish with fish in it along with the main course. Everything smelled divine and looked amazing. Far superior to the microwave mac and cheese I’d been planning on eating at home.
“This looks delicious,” I said.
“Eat,” ordered her mother, sounding vaguely pleased with the compliment.
After dinner came a platter of fruit, all while Hang’s mom grilled us both on our school grades, social life, and anything else she cared to know about. As long as we avoided the topic of John, I was happy. Meanwhile, her dad barely said a word all evening. I couldn’t blame him. With me here and Hang’s older brother away at college, the poor man was outnumbered.
“Take these.” Mrs. Tran loaded me down with containers of food on our way out. Enough to last for days. Despite my size, she seemed to have serious reservations about how much I had to eat at home. I didn’t fight her. Firstly, the food really was delicious; secondly, only a fool would try to say no to the woman. “Home by nine thirty, Hang. It’s a school night.”