I SPENT MOST of the day playing Mario Kart with Lee.
'I'm actually pretty surprised Noah took care of me,' I admitted to Lee.
He laughed. 'You're not the only one. I would've, if I'd been there. But I got kind of waylaid . . .'
'Yeah, you told me about Veronica. Was there another girl you kissed, or just the one? You want to watch it – you'll be turning out like your brother.'
Lee rolled his eyes at me. 'Says the stripper. We make a fine pair.'
'I was intoxicated.'
'So was I, a little.'
'Not Noah, apparently.'
'I think he must have been, if he was looking after you like that. He's not usually so . . . so nice.'
I laughed. 'To put it nicely.'
'Indeed. Hey, maybe he's crushing back at you.'
I gave Lee a look. 'Don't be so ridiculous. And I got over that crush years ago, as you well know.'
Lee wrinkled his nose. 'That'd be weird anyway.'
'Whatever.' I shoved him, making his kart veer off course, and sending Yoshi plummeting over the waterfall while I went into the lead with Luigi.
I got home around five: I had some homework to finish off. I'd made Lee drive me home, since I'd borrowed a pair of his jeans and didn't want to be seen in public. I made a dash for the door, my best friend laughing at me.
'Hey!'
'What?' I yelled, turning back to him.
He threw my dress over to me, and I caught it just before it fell on the ground. 'See you in the morning!'
'Bye, Lee!'
I shut the front door and heard, 'Rochelle, is that you?'
'Yeah! Hi, Dad!'
'Come in the kitchen a sec.'
I sighed, wondering if I was in for a lecture now or not. I dreaded my dad getting angry with me.
He was working on his laptop at the kitchen table, and I heard Brad on the Wii in the lounge.
'Hey,' I said, putting on the coffee maker.
'You can make me a cup too while you're there,' he said.
'Okay.'
'Good party?'
I nodded. 'Yeah, it was great.'
'You didn't get too drunk? Or do anything too stupid?' He shot me a stern look over the rim of his glasses: he was talking about boys.
I'm not sure why he bothered. It was hardly confidential that I'd never had a boyfriend or kissed a guy.
'I, um . . . I wasn't too bad . . . only a bit drunk.'
Dad sighed and took off his glasses and rubbed his cheek. 'Rochelle . . . you know what I've said about you drinking.'
'I was fine, honestly. Lee and Noah took care of me anyway.'
'Noah did?'
Even my dad was surprised enough to forget about the drinking for a moment.
'Yeah. I thought it was weird too.'
'Mm . . . Anyway, don't change the subject, young lady. You know what I've said about you drinking.'
'I know. I'm sorry.'
'Mm. Next time that happens, you'll be grounded for a month, you hear? And don't think I won't find out.'
'Message received, loud and clear.'
He didn't look entirely convinced, but let it slide. It wasn't like I went out drinking every other night; it was a once-in-a-while thing.
'So have you and Lee come up with an idea for your booth yet? The carnival's only two weeks away.
'Yeah. We're doing a kissing booth.'
'That's . . . unusual,' Dad laughed. 'Are you sure you'll be allowed?'
I shrugged, pouring out two mugs of coffee. 'I don't see why not.'
'Well, it's better than throwing balls at coconuts,' he said. 'Anyway, listen, I'm going to need you to watch Brad tomorrow, okay? I'm working late.'
'Yeah, sure.' After adding a ton of milk to my coffee, I gulped it down. 'I'm going to take a shower and do my homework.'
'Okay. Dinner at seven. We've got meatloaf.'
'Cool.'
I hated Mondays. They sucked. There was not one redeeming feature about Monday mornings. I always set my alarm twenty minutes earlier than I needed to, since I hated getting out of bed.
I finally dragged myself up and grabbed my black pants out of the closet. Our school was built in, like, the early 1900s or something like that, and for some stupid reason they kept the tradition of uniform. It wasn't the worst uniform in the world, but I wished we didn't have any.
As if Monday mornings weren't already bad enough, mine was about to get a hell of a lot worse.
Riiiiiiiip!
I froze, one leg half in the leg of my pants. Hurriedly, I wriggled out of them and inspected the damage. Last week, it had been a teeny tiny hole in the seam on the inside of the right leg. Now, there was a giant tear down the leg.
'Oh, crap,' I muttered, throwing them down. I wasn't much of a seamstress at the best of times, and there was no way Dad would be able to fix them. I'd have to order some new ones online – they should get here by Thursday, I calculated. But until then, it'd have to be my old skirt.
I hated the regulation school skirt. It was pleated, for one thing, and made of this blue and black striped tartan. You had to wear stockings with it. Not tights. Not bare legs. Knee-high stockings. It looked good on some people, and I'd given in and worn it for a while last year before deciding to never touch the thing again.
But I had no choice.
And, worse, it was now a little too short for me.
I sighed again. It'd have to do for now. It's not like I had any other option. I rummaged through a drawer until I found some of the stockings I'd bought to go with it last year. I grimaced at myself in the mirror before heading down to breakfast.
Brad choked on his cereal when I walked into the kitchen. He laughed so hard he sprayed Cheerios everywhere. 'What the hell is that supposed to be?'
'Brad, language,' Dad scolded him. Then he turned to look at me and raised his eyebrows. 'Isn't that a bit . . . inappropriate for school, Elle?'
I huffed, scowling. 'My trousers are ripped.'
'How did you manage that?'
'I forgot to fix the hole in them and . . . I don't know, they just tore.'
Dad sighed. 'You'll have to order some more. I haven't got time to run you to the mall to get any.'
'Yeah, I know.'
I'd barely finished my cereal when I heard Lee beeping the horn impatiently outside. I put my bowl in the sink and said goodbye. I bolted to the car, jumping in before anybody could see me in my skirt.
'You're in a skirt,' Lee commented.
'No shit, Sherlock,' I muttered. 'Let's just go.'
'What's got your panties in a twist?' he teased.
'My trousers ripped.'
'I thought you were fixing them?'
'I forgot.'
'It looks fine, Shelly, don't worry. You really should wear skirts more often.'
I swatted at him, and he grinned and turned up the radio. It wasn't long before we were at school and I told myself to suck it up and, after taking a deep breath, climbed out of the car. We were a little later than usual, and most people had already arrived.
I slammed the car door shut and walked around to sit on the hood with Lee as a bunch of guys wandered over to greet us.
'Hey, looking good,' Dixon said, nodding at me with a wink.
I scowled, folding my arms. 'Shut up.'
'What?' he protested innocently. I knew he was only teasing, but I was in no mood for it.
I decided to go talk to some girls instead, spotting Lisa and May from my chemistry class a few cars down. Someone smacked my butt as I walked past, and I whipped round angrily.
It was one of the soccer players, Thomas, smirking at me.
'Did you just smack my butt?' I asked, clenching my jaw.
'Maybe.'
'Hey, I missed the party on Saturday,' said his friend Adam. I didn't know him too well, but from what I'd seen, he was an arrogant jerk. As if to prove it, he added, 'Do I get a repeat performance?'
A few of the boys laughed and cheered, and Adam started swinging his hips like a girl and pulling his shirt out of his pants like he was going to strip. It would've been funny, but I was so angry at him and his smug little face.
I ground my teeth. 'Oh, grow up already.'
Adam grabbed my wrist and pulled me back over. He probably thought it was all a joke, but I didn't. I tore my arm away and glared at him.
'Hey, back off,' Lee snapped, stepping closer.
'Make me,' Adam shot back, throwing his arms out and daring him.
So I punched him.
Well, I tried to – someone caught my fist before it collided with his jaw.
I wrestled my hand away, but not before a different fist went into Adam's face. Then they slammed him into the old four-by-four next to us, letting go of me.
I looked around. Of course. It had to be Noah who'd interfered.
'Fight! Fight! Fight!'
Suddenly there was a huge swarm in the middle of the parking lot, everyone either shouting, 'Fight! Fight!' or giving the appropriate 'Ooh,' or 'Ouch, that's gotta hurt!' when required. And I was stuck in the eye of the storm, frozen in place, unable to move.
It took a couple of seconds for reality to bring me back to my senses. I ran forward, trying to drag Noah away from Adam, whose lip was split and bleeding. He couldn't have looked more livid if he'd tried.
'Noah!' I yelled repeatedly, but he wasn't listening. The boys were all yelling and arguing – and now there was a teacher trying to control and assess the situation – but my brain didn't register any of that.
'Lee!' I tried helplessly, tugging on his arm instead. 'Do something!'
'What do you think I'm doing?' he replied sharply. 'Nobody treats my best friend like that and gets away with it.'
'Lee . . .' I sighed, defeated, when he went back to yelling and shoving the mass of guys.
'Dude, if you like her, that's fine,' Thomas scoffed to Noah. 'But I'm sure there's plenty to go around.'
He neatly dodged another punch and looked at Noah, daring him to carry on.
But I stood there glaring. 'What did you say?'
'You heard me,' he said with a wink.
I grimaced.
'That's it,' Noah growled.
'Flynn!' yelled the teacher, barging through the quickly dispersing crowd.
The other fights all faltered to a stop, and Noah only paused because I stood right in front of him, pushing his chest.
'What is all this about?' demanded the teacher – I recognized Vice Principal Pritchett's voice.
'It's just a big misunderstanding,' I told him. 'Really.'
'All of you,' he said, 'one week's detention. Noah Flynn, Rogers, my office now. You too Rochelle.'
I gaped. 'What did I do?' I exclaimed.
'Nothing, but I'd like a word with you.'
I sighed dejectedly, and suddenly there was an arm around me. Lee.
'Thanks,' I mumbled. 'But you shouldn't have got involved.'
'Hell yes, I should have. Nobody treats you like that, Shelly.'
'You do it twenty-four/seven.'
'But I'm allowed. We're best friends. Those jerks . . . no way can they talk to you like that and get away with it.'
'Well, thanks,' I said, giving him an awkward side-hug.
He squeezed me back. 'You know,' he murmured in my ear, 'I'm starting to think my big bro has a crush on you, Shelly.'
I scoffed. 'That, or he wanted a fight.'
'Oh, probably the latter then.'
'Definitely,' I corrected, making him laugh. The bell rang as we reached the vice principal's office, and Lee sighed.
'I have to get to homeroom.'
'Yeah. Well, I'll just see you later, I guess.'
'Yeah. Good luck,' he added with a grave expression. I laughed, waving as he wandered off, and threw myself down on a chair. Someone took the one next to me – Noah. The vice principal and Thomas went straight into the office. The door shut behind them with an ominous click.
After a few seconds of silence, I said a quiet 'Thanks.'
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Noah sit up. 'Nobody can treat a girl like that and get away with it. Especially if that girl is you.'
I peeked at him sideways, not turning my head. 'Well, thank you. You didn't have to interfere, though. I mean, you could've let me land one punch.'
'It would've been a good punch, I'll give you that.'
'Why did you stop me?' I couldn't help but ask.
He shrugged. 'To be honest . . . I'm not sure.'
'In fact, while I'm at it, why did you need to get involved? Lee and Dixon and Cam would've been fine.'
'Maybe,' he said.
'You're avoiding my question.'
Noah grinned. 'Yeah, I am. I guess . . . I didn't want to see you get in a fight, and I didn't like hearing them talk to you like that . . .' He trailed off, and ran a hand through his hair while my heart raced faster and faster.
Then he said the words that dashed the last tiny shred of hope that had been growing inside me; they spilled out in a tumble: 'I guess you're just like my little sister or something.'
'Oh, yeah,' I said, nodding. 'Of course.'
He nodded too, and then shook his head, like he was trying to clear his mind or something.
I was trying to keep my expression neutral. 'Do you reckon you'll be in much trouble?' I asked casually, pretending to inspect my nails.
'Nah. I never am. Especially not when they find out I was defending your honor,' he added with a smirk.
'Ha-ha,' I snapped back, rolling my eyes. 'I was being serious.'
Noah shook his head. 'I never start fights, I just finish them. You know. In my defense.'
'I don't see why I have to be here though.'
'Oh, they'll want a witness, just to verify stuff or something. They usually like that.'
I laughed, looking at Noah and shaking my head.
We sat pretty much in silence for a while, but it was a nice, comfortable silence, which actually surprised me. I realized it was actually the longest period of time I'd ever spent alone with Noah in the past year or so – unless you counted the time I didn't remember because I was drunk.
When Thomas came out and Noah was called in, I mouthed, 'Good luck.' He just smirked and saluted me before closing the vice principal's door. I had nothing to do then but try and get some internet signal on my cell phone, which wasn't easy in this school.
When he came out, he shot me a smile, letting me know that everything was cool.
Vice Principal Pritchett called, 'Rochelle?' and beckoned me in.
I sighed and got to my feet, wandering into his office. I'd never been inside before, only walked past it – and it wasn't a particularly welcoming place. It reeked of rules and punishment.
He asked me what the fight had been about. I told him the truth: that some idiots had been teasing me about something stupid I'd done at a party on Saturday night, and I'd been really offended, so the boys stepped in and a fight ensued.
'I see . . . Well, thank you, Rochelle.'
'I didn't get anybody in trouble, did I? I mean, nobody got badly hurt or anything . . .' I spoke warily as I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder.
The vice principal handed me my late pass. 'No, you just confirmed their stories, that's all. Don't worry about it, all right? And stay out of trouble.'
I nodded uneasily. 'Okay . . .'
'Just get off to class now.'
That was a cue to get my butt out of there, so I didn't hesitate a second longer.