Prologue

Prologue

“Hey loser!” came a tormenting voice from in front of me. I lifted my gaze from the pale gray tile of the schools floor to meet the piercing green-eyed gaze of my tormentor, Rick Owens. I cringed as I remembered the ugly light green dress I was wearing. I looked like a cucumber that’d been bleached out by the sun.

“How can I help you?” I said meekly lowering my gaze back down to the floor.

“How about you scram? You’re not wanted here, go home, you don’t belong here.” He said with clear cut, uninhibited malice in his voice.

My lips trembled as I remembered his loving tone from the day before pleading with me to come with him to the prom. I’d agreed, not being able to resist the surge of happiness quickly welling in my chest. He’d beamed at me before kissing me on the cheek and waltzing out homeroom to join his friends.

I’d rushed out of school that same day anxious to find a dress for prom with less than forty-eight hours to prepare myself I would have to settle for the first available dress, that I’d have to wear for what I’d thought would be the most wonderful night of my life. A night I would get to spend blissfully in the arms of my crush.

I suppose a red flag should have risen when he called tonight to tell me that he had had car trouble and asked if I could meet him at the dance instead of him picking me up. I had hastily agreed and my mother was thrilled I was finally going out on a date and it to the prom no less, in my final year of high school, that she’d obliged my request to drive me with no qualms.

I had spotted a car that had looked identical to Rick’s in the parking lot as my mother drove up to the front entrance of the school, but quickly reasoned that many kids must have similar cars to Rick’s, and that I had just never noticed them before. But my rationalization had soon blown up into smoke when I stepped into the decorated gymnasium to find Stacey Martin, head cheerleader and resident bitch, in the loving arms of Rick.

I’d choked back my tears and wandered to a corner hoping to hide out until midnight when my mother would return to pick me up and whisk me away from the dance. I had hidden out successfully until now.

“You invited me.” I said in a timid a voice.

“You wish, I did.” He said his voice still dripping with the malice from before as he smirked at Stacey, who had a pitying look in her eye.

“Sweetheart,” she said faux sweetness dripping from her every word, “I know in your fantasy land Rick would have asked you, but he’s dating me now, so why don’t you give up on your crush now. There are plenty of band nerds over there that would love to go out with you.” She said gesturing towards the small clump of pimpled boys hanging out near the refreshment table, probably discussing the merits of 2” and 2 ½” reeds with each other.

My inner musings were quickly ripped away as something sickeningly sweet and thick poured down on top of my head and streamed down my face getting into my eyes and ruining the green dress that I’d used all of my babysitting money to buy. I looked through the dark down pour of maple syrup to see the laughing faces of Rick Owens and his crew before tearing out of the gymnasium, oblivious to the pair of green eyes, seemingly identical to Rick’s, watching me from the bandstand.