A Non Prep’s Complete Guide to Pissing Off a Prep

Chapter TEN: Say What?

James

Corrington High School was ecstatic. Over the course of one weekend, two new “it” couples had suddenly been formed. Lena Kennedy and Brayden MacPhee now walked hand in hand down the halls, stopping at classroom doors for quick, affectionate kisses before separating.

And his sister was suddenly Chase O’Malley’s girlfriend.

I tried to ignore the fact that my ex-girlfriend was now dating her best friend’s brother—also known as the brother of the girl who’d once been my best friend, and had now sworn to make my life hell—but it was difficult, especially since she was now dating—cliché time—one of her brother’s best friends.

I wished I could brush it off, take part in the easy teasing surrounding them and the eager gossip milling through the school, but I couldn’t, and that bothered me.

It was easy to see them all from my table at lunch; I’d have been willing to bet they’d planned it. They were only two tables away, all of them laughing as if at some private joke. Then again, considering Holly’s antics—to put it mildly—where I was concerned, I was probably the main topic, and that would make me the butt of most of the school’s jokes and not just theirs.

I wasn’t sure what it did to me, to see the girl who’d once been my best friend and had somehow become my worst nightmare straddling the bench of the table with her back against Chase O’Malley’s chest, his arms draped loosely around her as they both shot rapidfire retorts at whatever Lee and Derek were saying.

The fact that I wanted to know what they were talking about, wanted to know what had that amused glint in Holly’s eyes, pissed me off as much as it worried me.

I tried to tell myself I didn’t care, that it made no difference to me who she dated, that it wasn’t my business.

And yet every time I saw them together, every time O’Malley put a hand at the base of her neck and brought his mouth to hers, however fleetingly, my stomach clutched, and my mind spiralled back four years to that one innocent kiss Holly and I had shared.

“I wonder what it’s like.”

I glanced over, startled. We were huddled in the uppermost branches of a tree, an old maple we’d long ago claimed as our own. The leaves provided excellent camouflage and allowed us to spy on my brother.

At about the time he’d turned fifteen, Seth had decided he was too good to hang out with his kid brother anymore. Rather than being hurt by this, Holly and I had immediately decided he was our new target.

At the moment we were a little bored, and faintly nauseated. Seth had been kissing Mallory Dempsey for so long now that we could talk normally and not stand a chance of being caught.

Even though I’d been looking around absently, watching cars drive by and looking forward to the day when I could have my own, Holly had her arms propped on a branch in front of the one she sat on, her head resting on top as she frowned down at my brother, legs swinging absently across empty space.

“What, you mean the kissing?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged as she said it. “It’s normal to wonder, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” I decided after a second, shifting slightly. The small nub of a snapped twig was pressing into the back of my thigh.

She turned her head, pinned me with a dark-eyed, serious look. “You’d tell me, right? If you kissed someone before me?”

“What, you’re not counting Johnny Turner? He cleaned his braces just for you!”

“Shut up, James!” she ordered, swinging at my shoulder with a clenched fist.

Her eyes stayed focused on mine, a slight frown on her face. “You’d tell me?” she insisted, and I shifted again, shrugged.

“Yeah, I’d tell you. And you’d tell me.”

“Yeah. And by then I’d probably have punched the guy out.” She raised an eyebrow, reminding me that she’d done just that to Johnny Turner before Brayden or I could “help”.

I let out a short laugh. “Well, if we go by Seth’s example, we’d like it,” I pointed out, waving a hand to where my seventeen-year-old brother was taking half an hour or so to say hello to his girlfriend.

Holly glanced down, wrinkled her nose. “Doubt it.”

“How do you know?” I countered. “It seems to work for just about everyone.”

Holly stared dead ahead and spoke very quietly, her eyes flicking up to mine. “It didn’t work for my parents.”

“Oh, crap, Holl, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted me, and smiled as though to reassure me. “I still don’t get the point, though.”

So saying, she frowned down at my brother and his girlfriend, who’d finally broken apart. “She looks drunk. You know, like your Uncle Andy that time he had too much eggnog at Christmas?”

I had to clap my hands over my mouth to keep the laugh from bursting out and exposing us.

By the time Seth and Mallory finally left, our butts were sore from spending so much time sitting in a tree. I followed Holly as she swung down, nimble as a monkey, and landed lightly on the ground, rocking on the balls of her feet.

I jumped to the ground beside her, then noticed the thoughtful expression she still wore. “What are you thinking?”

Her eyes dropped to her shoes; she bit her lip; the fingers of one hand tugged at a loose thread on her T-shirt. “Nothing.”

“Oh, you’re not pulling that! I know you, Holly Christina—unfortunately,” I added, and yelped when she smacked me. “You’re planning something. Spill.”

Still scowling at the use of her middle name, she glared at me briefly, then shrugged her shoulders in a jerky motion and muttered, “Maybe I wondered, it’s not a crime.”

“Wondered what?” I wanted to know.

“What it’s like,” she continued in the same irritated mutter without looking up. Her cheeks were red, her mouth scowling.

“Oh. I guess we all do, until it happens.”

“Don’t you wonder what it’d be like?” she asked, curiosity overriding humiliation so that she lifted her head and met my eyes.

It was my turn to shrug. “Sure, I guess, but it hasn’t happened yet, has it?”

“It could.”

Uhoh. “I can see the wheels turning in your head,” I commented. “What are you thinking?”

“We could try,” she suggested. “See what all the big deal’s about.”

“What, you mean like those two?” I answered, jerking a thumb in the direction my brother and Mallory had taken in the car.

Holly cocked her head, considering. “Maybe not quite like that,” she conceded with a quick, crooked grin. “But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” And now it was stuck in my head, too, starting up all kinds of ideas I wasn’t sure I wanted. “I guess… we could try,” I said slowly. “Just this one time.”

“Okay, but let’s go around to where your mom won’t see us if she looks out the window.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, and we walked around to the far, shady corner of my backyard, where the line of trees offered privacy and isolation.

“You missed a good time when you were sick the other day,” she told me as we walked. “Chase caught a bullfrog at recess and let it loose in the class. Ms. Wiseman threw a fit.”

I laughed. Our grade eight class’s main objective was to rattle our stern, thin-lipped teacher; by the sounds of it, Chase had managed just fine. “Did he get caught?”

“Of course not.”

We grinned at each other, completely at ease.

“Okay.” Holly stopped, turned towards me, and with her lip caught between her teeth in concentration, slipped her arms up around my neck. Her hands were small, warm, and I didn’t move as they brushed at the nape of my neck.

She huffed out a sigh. “You could put your hands on my waist or something,” she suggested irritably.

“Oh, sorry.” I complied, then because something was scratching at my throat, cleared it. “Now what?”

She sighed again. “Now you kiss me, you idiot,” she teased. “You know, the whole mouth-on-mouth thing.”

“I know what it is,” I muttered, but I was smiling, and so was she. “Okay, here goes.”

We both closed our eyes, leaned into the other until our lips brushed, then met. I could still hear the birds chirping in the woods, could still feel my heart pumping inside me, but now I could hear and feel other things, too: Holly’s breath, sighing out against my skin, smelling of the apple she’d munched on before we’d gone outside; Holly’s hands, resting on my neck.

After a long moment, we both slowly moved back and let our hands drop. Holly was thinking, her brow slightly furrowed.

“I guess that wasn’t too bad,” she decided. “Maybe when we’re older we’ll like it better.”

I hadn’t minded it much at all, but I figured if I said anything she’d hit me. So I nodded my agreement, and we headed back to the house to find lunch.

I’d never told anybody about that. We hadn’t sworn on it in the way of childhood friends, hadn’t promised with a pinky swear to keep it quiet. Yet I hadn’t felt like it was something I needed to share. And apparently Holly hadn’t told anyone either, since otherwise it would have spread at the speed of light. So it was still our little secret.

It was discomfiting to realize just how many secrets there still were between us.

Still thinking, no longer paying attention to the other people at my table or even the people in the cafeteria itself, I didn’t notice when Holly’s group rose, still laughing and talking animatedly, and walked past the table I was sharing with Michael, a few other guys and their girls to leave. Holly had already walked past me with Chase’s arm slung around her shoulders before I clued in, turning my head to frown after them as they left the cafeteria.

Didn’t they look perfect, I thought angrily. Like something right out of a movie, everyone happy and smiling as they sauntered out.

Muttering under my breath, I turned my head away from them and ordered myself not to think about it as I picked up my bottle of Coke and took a long drink.

Beside me Jenna Sutton pouted. “James, honey, are you listening?”

Abruptly I snapped back and turned to face her, lowering the soft drink and offering her my best shit-eating grin. Hey, I’m no fool. I know better than to deliberately piss off a girl.

My eyes slid again in the direction Holly and her little troupe had taken.

Most girls, anyways.

“Sorry, babe. I had something on my mind.”

Pleased to have my attention again, Jenna gave a coy smile and tossed silky brown hair over her shoulder. “Poor baby,” she purred. “All this nonsense that silly little Holly’s putting you through.”

I nearly snorted and asked who she was acting for, but instead shrugged and shot a quick glare in Michael’s direction when he made kissy faces while Jenna wasn’t looking. “It’s no big deal, Jen.”

“Well, hopefully Chase can keep her in line,” she chirped, and her friends quickly agreed. “Her brother definitely never tried.”

This time I did snort. “Are you kidding? Who do you think’s been helping her with most of this shit?”

In case you haven’t caught on yet, Jenna isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She was good-looking, she knew it, and she worked to keep it that way and to improve it. If she wasn’t upset by the realization that her mind would never be her strongest tool, neither was I. For the most part it was easy to see why I’d asked her out, and it definitely wasn’t for the witty charm and sparkling wit in her conversation.

If a guy wanted an easy, no frills, no stress relationship, Jenna Sutton was the type of girl to go after. Gorgeous, well aware of it, and accordingly as shallow as a puddle, one of her few requirements in a relationship was that her partner had to be at least close to her level of attractiveness before he was allowed to accompany her through the school’s halls.

The relationship was easy to maintain without any effort aside from buying her some sparkly bauble at the appropriate occasion, and since tonight would be the third or fourth date, I didn’t doubt that I’d be getting lucky. A paragon of virtue, Jenna wasn’t.

My mind’s caustic tones now whispered dryly that she’d better be good in bed, because I badly needed the distraction. Holly had been all too happy to ignore me for the last three years, which, though it had initially hurt, I’d gotten used to—and now she was everywhere I turned. It was making me mental.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Jenna now questioned me in a voice like honey. “The movie at your place?”

And I repeat: despite Holly’s best efforts to make me look like one, I’m no fool. I knew she was just trying to make the other girls at our table jealous, and knew she’d succeeded when envious glances were tossed her way before conversations were resumed.

“‘Course,” I assured her after taking another quick slug of Coke—God knew I’d need the caffeine to survive English class with Holly—and added a wink to keep her happy. The implication was clear, and I knew that because this was high school, we would both be closely scrutinized the next day as people tried to discern whether we’d fucked each other or not.

It was at that second that I realized just how painfully ready I was to graduate and leave this town behind me.

“I’m just sorry I won’t be able to meet your mom,” Jenna went on in a voice that spoke of regret while her eyes gleamed. “You’re sure she can’t make it?”

You wanted no strings, I reminded myself. Play the game and deal with it. “Out of town,” I confirmed for the benefit of the girls listening intently. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Sounds fun,” she purred, and while the other girls giggled, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and downed the last of my Coke. The bell pealed as I lowered the bottle, and I turned to Jenna for a quick, semi-friendly kiss—with a hint of teeth, so she wouldn’t have any doubt about what to expect later that night—and then went to collect my books for English.

Christ, I couldn’t wait for this semester to end. Between English and Gym, the two classes I shared with Holly, it was getting increasingly difficult for me to ignore her as I’d been doing for the past three years, what with the way she kept pulling these—admittedly inventive—pranks and putting herself in the spotlight.

As promised, she was making my life hell at every opportunity she got. The fact that she’d done nothing since the soccer game more than two weeks ago was not only making me a little anxious, but it was downright pissing me off. And on top of that, I was willing to bet Holly would have been just as pleased as I was to know that she was playing hell with my hormones, too.

I couldn’t seem to help it; it was just all too easy, lately, to imagine having that compact little body plastered against mine, to picture that smirking mouth hot and hungry on mine; ridiculously easy, it seemed, to imagine the noises she might make when I touched her in a way she liked, or when I—

BAD THOUGHT, I scolded myself as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. This is exactly why Jenna’s coming over tonight. Now snap out of it.

Even as I brought myself back to reality, Holly and Lena ambled in, chatting happily about plans they’d each made—with Brayden and Chase, I thought sourly—for the weekend. Naturally, though their seats were just behind mine, I was ignored so completely I might as well have been invisible.

MacNaughton had just managed to get the louder students in the class under control and was discussing a new poetry analysis assignment—poetry, oh joy—when Holly poked me in the back.

“Got a pencil, O’Connell?” she whispered, and though I knew it would amuse her and thereby frustrate me, I couldn’t help it—I tensed.

“Why don’t you ask Lena?” I hissed back without turning to look at her. For a moment I thought my voice sounded off, slurred, but I quickly dismissed it.

“She forgot her pencil case, too,” came the glib reply. “She borrowed a pen from Brayden.”

“So why didn’t you do the same?”

Okay, something was definitely wrong with my voice. That sentence had come out sounding like “So wha din’t you do da same?” I snapped my mouth shut.

“Slipped my mind. So, got a pencil or not?”

Frowning, I handed one back in silence—and moments later scowled at the piece of folded paper that landed on the floor beside my desk. I nearly bent to pick it up before I thought better of it. Not giving her the satisfaction, I thought firmly, and ignored it. Sadly, I only managed to hold firm on that for a whopping thirty seconds before I snatched the note up while MacNaughton wasn’t looking, resolutely ignoring the snicker I heard from behind me.

Was wong wid yer voice?

The mocking little note made my teeth clench—or would have, I thought, were I able to feel my lips or tongue at all.

While I tried not to panic at that little revelation—after all, it clearly had something to do with Holly, and I knew she wouldn’t do anything too over the line; the entire school knew she didn’t consider me worth the jail time—MacNaughton asked students if they already knew which song or poem they wanted to analyze. Too worried over the fact that all of the nerve endings in the lower half of my face seemed to have gone numb, I didn’t pay much attention, at least not until Holly’s name was called.

“I’d like to analyze a Green Day song called ‘Give Me Novocain’,” she said blithely, and I felt twin surges of comprehension and fury rush through my blood like a fever.

Riding on anger, I scrawled an impatient question onto paper and twisted briefly around to drop it on her desk. The smug look on her face as she glanced at it was all I needed for confirmation.

She arched her eyebrows at me and didn’t move, as tight-lipped and smug as a sphinx guarding her secrets. I narrowed my eyes at her, waiting for some other sign, some indication of how she’d pulled this one off.

“Mr. O’Connell!”

Shit.

“Perhaps you’d like to share what it is about Miss MacPhee you find so interesting that you feel compelled to stare at her during my class?”

I turned away from Holly, but not before I saw the smug, infuriating little smirk flicker around her mouth. Mutely I shook my head.

“When a person speaks to you, it’s considered courteous to respond in kind,” the teacher observed mildly. “Give it a try.”

Shit damn crap fuck ass.

“Id waz nudding, Miss,” I mumbled, cursing myself and Holly. At best I sounded like I had a bad cold; at worst I sounded like I had some sort of disorder they hadn’t yet identified. The back of my neck burned, heat rising into my face until I knew I had to be bright red.

Around me, the students buzzed with excited whispers of “What’s wrong with him?” or “Holly strikes again!” The first irritated me; the second was infuriating, especially considering the same realization had just hit me with the force of a blow.

I’d been had. Again.

MacNaughton raised her eyebrows, then said in what sounded almost like a bored tone of voice, “Mr. O’Connell, why don’t you go see if the nurse can figure out why you’ve suddenly lost the ability to speak normally. Miss MacPhee, accompany him and stay with him, please.”

Had I been able to, I would’ve furiously insisted that I didn’t need to be accompanied like a little kid—but then, if I’d been able to speak properly, I wouldn’t be heading to see the nurse at all.

Holly murmured something politely deferential to the teacher, and then she was rising, leading the way out of the room. I saw her turn her head and grin at Lena before she disappeared around the corner, and I could only follow, staring at her back and seething in silence.

XXXXX

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