"Get out of my way," I heard an annoyed voice hiss, words dripping with venom.
I turned around just in time to see Liliana Moreno standing right behind me, light brown eyes shooting daggers at me as she tapped her foot expectantly.
"Sorry!" I squeaked, flinching away with surprise.
Her upper lip, sticky with lip gloss, curled up with disgust. Her hateful gaze surveyed me, like a vulture picking apart dry bones, and then she shoved past me with a sneer. People parted for her like the Red Sea parted for Moses as she walked down the corridor.
"Ugh," my best friend Sammy scoffed. "What a bitch. Is it physically impossible for her to be nice to people?"
I gnawed nervously on my bottom lip, closing my locker. "No clue. All I know is I've been able to get through three years of high school without getting on her radar, and I really don't wanna break my streak."
Sammy snorted. "True. Knowing you, you wouldn't last a second in a show-down with her. You get scared your teachers will be mad at you if you turn work in late, April."
"Pfft." I scoffed. Then I scoffed again. "Pffft."
"Now we should probably get to the caf," Sammy beckoned, patting her nonexistent stomach. "Everyone'll be waiting for us."
We were about to walk away when we heard someone call our names.
"Hey, April!" another girl called. "Hey. Lookin' good, girls!"
It was Ellie Bennet, captain of the cheerleading squad. She strided up to us in the same outfits we wore: a crimson and black bandage crop top and a matching, tight, high-waisted black skirt. There were, of course, shorts underneath, but I always felt a little exposed wearing it.
Tonight was the night of the fist lacrosse game of the season. It was an informal game – more in the spirit of tradition and friendly competition than actually having to do with the official tournament – between our school, Carver's Crimson Tigers, and our archrivals, Beaumont's Black Bears. I actually really liked it, since it was a nice way to kick off the season and get warmed up.
To show our spirit, it was tradition for all the cheerleaders to go to school in their uniforms. As co-captain, it wasn't like I could skip it without setting a bad precedent!
"Hi," I smiled. "You're lookin' better, Ellie. Honestly, I still don't know how you get your hair like that. It's a freaking work of the gods."
Her perfect smile widened, and her hand absentmindedly went up to her perfect brown curls. She laughed, obviously delighted. "Thanks, April. And happy birthday!"
I grinned back, sharing her good mood. Seeing people happy made me happy.
Ellie glanced at Sammy and her smile curdled a little, awkwardly. "Oh, and, hey, Sammy!"
Sammy hid her irritation behind a mask of blissful oblivion. "Hey!"
We fell into an awkward silence as Ellie struggled to find something to say to her. I gnawed on my bottom lip, shifting uneasily. I felt awful.
For some reason I still hadn't figured out, people tended to like me. I was popular – but not the kind of popular Liliana Moreno was. By the girls of the school, she was resented, envied, or feared. Her 'friends' were only her friends because, one, they were terrified of her; two, because being her friend made them way more popular; or three, they lived by the motto, Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.
Liliana Moreno was always the talk of the school. What parties she went to, what guys she hooked up with, which one of her friends screwed up and was now excommunicado, etc.
But I was way more under the radar than she was. We didn't run with the same crowd. I didn't go to many parties, I didn't drink, I didn't hook up with guys, and I definitely didn't have fights or scandals with my friends. Conflict was absolutely terrifying, so I avoided it at all costs. I was just well-known, and unfortunately, I was more known than Sammy was.
So even though Ellie, Sammy, and I stood there for what couldn't have been more than half a minute, it felt like half a century.
Thankfully, someone else interrupted us, unknowingly rescuing the situation.
"Hey, girlies," came a smooth male voice, slinging a heavy arm over my shoulders and another arm over Ellie's. "How are my two favorite cheerleaders?"
Startled, my eyes darted up and met two coffee-colored ones.
Asher Kim – pride and joy of the swim team, captain of the lacrosse team, and notorious player of girls' hearts.
With a square jaw, perfect tan skin, thick brown hair, and a lean, muscular build from all the sports he played, there was no doubt that he had his own fanclub at Carver.
Ellie rolled her eyes and shoved him away. They'd been a thing at one point, until he'd dumped her and moved on.
"Go away, Asher," she complained, crossing her arms.
Asher glanced unashamedly at her cleavage before meeting her eyes again. "Aw, don't be like that. Looks like the captain of the Crimson Tigers is on her crimson wa–ave," he said patronizingly, before breaking into a smirk. "Damn, burn! Can't believe I've never made that joke befo–"
"Bye, girls," Ellie scowled.
"Good thing the skirt's red!" he called after her as she marched away. "It'll blend right in!"
She marched away faster.
Asher's defined chest shook with silent laughter as he squashed me to his side. My cheeks pinked. He pouted down at me, uncomfortably close, and smushed my cheek. "Well, my lovely April, looks like we won't be having that threesome after all."
I couldn't help but laugh. Asher was mostly harmless. Perverted, egotistical, and overconfident, but harmless.
"Happy birthday, Asher," I smiled. "It sucks it's on the day of the game, but it'll be fun anyway."
"Happy birthday to us!" Asher corrected, booping my nose affectionately with his other hand. "We're both turning the big one-eight, huh. Whatcha gonna do with this newfound freedom? This independence? Remember, my lovely April, that with great power comes great responsibility."
Coincidentally, Asher Kim and I shared the same birthday – March 14th. Actually, we also shared our birthday with Liliana Moreno, too, which I only knew because the past couple of years Asher had thrown huge birthday bashes for us all, even if Liliana and he weren't very close friends. Actually, they weren't friends at all. Word had it that Liliana and Asher had had a fling junior year that ended pretty badly.
Hey, I couldn't help but know all of this information. When your friends talk about this stuff basically 24/7, it becomes routine to know everything about everyone at all times. Even though I didn't like judging people off of gossip, it was what my friends liked to talk about, and, well, they were my friends.
So every year, Asher threw this huge party and invited me, and Liliana always seemed to make an appearance because, well, she was the most popular girl in school, and she made it her business to go to every party thrown by other popular people. Probably to keep tabs on everyone.
"Asher," I warned, fighting a smile, "stop squishing me."
"But why?" he whined. "I squish the things I like. It's called Squishing Syndrome, as diagnosed by my doctor. It's a real thing. Promise."
"Get–" I swatted his chest. "–off me!"
Asher backed up, hands raised innocently. He had a big smirk on his rosy lips, outrageously handsome face smug.
"Fine," he sighed. "But fair warning, Squishing Syndrome tends to strike at the most unfortunate of times, and on the most unfortunate of places. So don't blame me if I end up squishing those two balls of heaven on your chest…"
"Asher!" I snapped, red. "Balls of heaven? Seriously?"
"C-cup? D-cup?"
"Asher!" I wailed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "You can't just ask that!"
"Well I'm pretty sure I would get written up for harassment if I checked," he said in a 'duh' tone, coffee eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned against the lockers in front of me, strong arms crossing. "Now, come on," he nudged, like I was being unreasonable. "Don't skimp out on me, April. C? D? I gotta know."
"We," I told him hotly, cheeks as red and hot as the sun, grabbing Sammy's arm as we turned to leave, "are leaving."
"We'll finish this conversation later!" he called after me, barking out laughter. "Don't forget the party! My house, right after the game!"
As Sammy and I walked through the halls, various people waved or said hi to me. I tried my best to return each greeting as we talked.
"I'm sorry about that," I whispered, brushing one of my blonde curls behind my ear. "Asher is…"
"A pig," she snapped.
I knew she wasn't really mad at him. She was mad at the situation. Maybe even mad at me.
Quietly, I fiddled with my fingers. I didn't know what to say. "Sorry," I said again. "You're invited to the party too, you know, like always. It goes without saying."
Sammy sighed, rubbing her forehead with her manicured fingers. "It's fine. Look, I gotta go do something. Meet you there."
I nodded, forcing a tight smile and waving. She walked away, a frown screwed onto her mouth. Taking a deep breath, I readjusted the backpack strap on my shoulder and left.
I turned a corner and the double doors into the cafeteria were in sight. I yanked on the handle, stepping blindly through at the same time, and crashed straight into someone on the other side.