Chapter 3: Don't Even Try To

From the moment Tally woke up that morning, she knew she would have a totally strange day—probably because she woke up on the wrong side of the bed or probably because everything was somewhat different that morning.

First, her alarm had mysteriously disappeared, thus not being able to execute its main purpose which was to wake her. So she had woken up by herself just ten minutes before the first bell would ring. She dressed herself as quickly as she could, not minding that the clothes she threw onto herself were the clothes she wore the day before. But she cared less about it. She then rushed off to her car, but alas, the oldie gave up on her that morning, making her resort to stealing (ehem... borrowing) a scooter from her next door neighbor. (Hopefully, they would understand.) Now what's not so weird about riding a scooter to school? Tally had never done such thing since middle school. Fortunately, she arrived at school right on time, being able to make to it to homeroom on the dot. That was impressive.

From that moment on, she braced herself for what might happen later that day. And she just knew she wasn't going to like it.

"What the hell is this, Tanner?" Carla Jenkins slammed the school paper in front of Tally's face, catching her off guard as she was innocently passing by that hallway on her way to the lunch hall.

"What?" Tally asked, taking the paper in front of her. It was the school paper, all right. And it was opened to the page of the story that covered the Cougars' win for the state championships—the article she wrote.

"What are you trying to do?" Carla dangerously arched up a perfectly shaped brow.

"I'm doing what my editor asked me to do." Tally replied flatly, uninterested with whatever her problem was.

"From what I'm seeing, I don't think so." Carla argued.

"Then what are you seeing, Carla? Or are your eyes just too sunk-in because of that dense brain of yours?" Tally retaliated.

"What are you trying to prove, Tanner? That you're actually a somebody? What, did you just wake up one morning and find out that no one really notices you so you write a "great" article about my boyfriend hoping people would finally know who you are?"

"You know what, Carla, that doesn't sound like me at all." Tally replies, calmly. "No, it doesn't, you know why? Because that's you. Not me."

"Oh, so now defining each other? Let me define you then." Carla says, with a dangerous look on her face.

"Look, Carla, I don't have time for you little high school drama, okay?"

Carla narrowed her eyes down at Tally. "You don't touch my boyfriend, you hear me?"

Tally couldn't help but scoff at what she was saying. Was she hearing her right? "What, you think I'm taking a shot at your ass of a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, and my brain is dense." Carla muttered sarcastically.

Tally ignored that. "I wrote that for the paper, not for you and definitely not for him."

"Oh sure, and center the article all on him."

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't know you couldn't read! So for your information, honey, the article was about the team."

"If you don't have other things to do after writing a crappy article for your worthless paper why don't you just look for some other guy to try to get? Or are you just that type of whore who likes chasing after boys with girlfriends?"

"With that kind of attitude, Carla, its no wonder boys have even more fun breaking up with you than being with you."

And that was a totally wrong move by Tanner.

Without warning, Carla Jenkins tackled Tally to the ground and dug her long, manicured nails into Tally's arm and scratches her so hard, her entire arm got covered in red streaks. Tally could do only little but thrash about in an attempt to get Carla off of her. A string of profane and inappropriate words escape both their mouths as they wrestled each other. Tally, unfortunately was no match to an angry Carla Jenkins.

"What the fuck, Carla!" a voice roared through the hallways, bouncing off the lockers.

It was Logan. And he came to the rescue, pulling Carla off of Tally, who was now completely provoked.

"What's this all about?" he asked, his voice firm and demanding. He looked at Carla with anger in his eyes as well. Then he helped Tally up, who was quite disoriented and needed a second to gain back her balance as he held her upright.

Carla gritted her teeth, her face scrunching up in hatred. "You're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking sides, Carla." He looked tired now—tired of her. "What were you trying to do?"

"Shouldn't you be asking what she was trying to do?" Carla retorted.

Tally stalked away, wanting to ignore both of them and leave them alone. She didn't want any of their drama. Carla was such an attention-seeker, making every little thing a big deal. The last thing Tally wanted was to get involved.

"I saw what had happened Carla. You were hurting her." Tally hears Logan say as she walked away.

"Oh, alright, I get it. It's you and her now?"

"No, its not me and Tally, okay? Carla, this has been going on for too long. What is going on with you?"

Poor Logan. That was the first time Tally ever felt sympathy for the guy. She couldn't imagine being in his place—being in a relationship with Carla (though it is his fault for agreeing to date her. This is when the saying "there are more fish in the sea" is applied.)

Then Carla starts crying in front of him and practically asking for mercy or whatever. That woman had major problems, seriously. She could actually be bipolar, God forbid.

Tally turns to the corner, making a quick stop to her locker, grabbing a jacket to cover up the red marks on her arms Carla was responsible for. The last thing she wanted was people asking her what had happened. A catfight wasn't even her scene to begin with.

The class was Calculus.

She wasn't sure, but she felt like balls of paper were being thrown at her from the back. After about five of those, she got quite annoyed and just had to look back.

And bulls eye!

Right smack dab between her eyes, another crumpled ball of paper was fired.

She glared at the person responsible for this: Andrew Mathes, seated one seat diagonally behind her. Andrew Mathes was a good family friend, although he and Tally seldom talked. Most of the time, they would only exchange hellos in the hallway every time they get a chance. Of course, they shared a few classes together, like Calc for instance. Andrew was usually the funny guy. But this was not funny at all.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

He leaned forward so she could hear him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen." He replied in a whisper.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you think this is a little—I don't know—SECOND GRADE?!"

He chuckled. "You know, I saw what happened earlier."

"What happened?"

"Why're you wearing that jacket?"

"Oh, that."

"What exactly's going on?"

She shrugged. "Carla's probably scared her boyfriend was going to leave her."

"So she took it out on you?"

"I don't really know what's going on with her."

"Are you alright? She really took you out there."

"You saw the whole thing and didnt bother to help?" Tally gasped. "I was dying!"

He laughed. "A catfight's totally better than South Park."

She made a face. "I can't believe you!"

"I'm just kidding. I only got there when Logan started to break you guys up."

"Ha-Ha, Andrew."


What now? She thought. She grew tired of this day already.

"What do you want, Dashield?" she asked, not turning to face him. She carried her tray to an empty table and took a seat. Logan trailed behind her.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he took a seat across her.

"Been better." She shrugged.

He reached out for her arm. She quickly pulled it away. She knew he was going to take a look at the red marks now covered by the coat she wore. His face was shadowed with concern.

"I'm fine." She said.

"Look, I'm really sorry."

Tally shook her head. "No. You don't have to apologize for what she did."

"Let me take you out." He replied.

She almost choked on her meatloaf.

"Are you serious?"

"Just one afternoon. It's all I'm asking"

"You have a girlfriend." She said slowly to him, trying to make him understand each word she said. She was afraid he had forgotten about his girlfriend—the very cause of those marks on her arms.

"I know. But it won't be anything. Let's just hang out. Besides, you didn't show last Tuesday." He grinned.

"And maybe it's better that way. I don't want to face your insecure little girlfriend."

"It won't happen again. Trust me."

"No, Dashield, please." She said, shaking her head. "Please just stay away from me. And I don't mean that to disrespect. I was fine three weeks before—before we ever said a word to each other."

"Tally, c'mon. Just because this happened, that doesn't exactly mean I'm out to make your life a living hell."

"Well, I've already had enough."

And she got up and left.