“I just don’t understand,” Allison wailed into my chest. With the absence of tissues, a waterfall of tears mixed with black streaks poured over my shirt, giving it a Rorschach effect.
“I really like Jack. It’s all Katharine’s fault,” she said, forming a fist and shaking it at the ceiling.
“Why is it Katharine’s fault?”
“She told me to play it cool with Jack. She said, ‘Don’t show him how much you like him. You’ll look desperate. Kappa girls aren’t desperate.’” Releasing a long moan, she slammed back on the mattress.
“I’m just depressed. I mean, we haven’t gone on any dates, but we meet in the library on Wednesday mornings. We have the same English class so we study together, and he always brings me one chocolate kiss.”
Flipping over, she played with the edge of her pillowcase. “And on Fridays, I see him in the cafeteria at noon. He was always sitting by himself, so now I sit with him. We’ve been meeting there for five weeks, and now he has my salad already made for me before I even get there. Two chunks of chicken and a half-tablespoon of runny, not creamy, ranch dressing. Just how I like it.”
She smiled. “And if I’m running late and he forgets to get a fork for me from the condiment counter, he sends me a text picture of my food with a caption: Do not eat if there are alterations to this food formation.”
If I didn’t already feel like the worst person on the planet, what she said next upgraded me to the worst mammal in the universe.
“And he waits outside my biology lab at night even though I don’t get out until eight thirty. He said he’s doesn’t like me walking home in the dark by myself.” She let out a long sigh. “Whenever it’s raining, he’s there with an umbrella, and he always holds it over me while he gets drenched.”
She was grinning like an idiot now. “Remember when it was so cold last week?” She glanced over at me, and I nodded. “Well, he slipped one of my hands in his pocket to keep it warm. Then he wrapped his arm around me and rubbed my other hand.” Allison’s voice faded into a low mumble. “I know it’s weird because you’re his sister, but I wanted him to be my first.”
Earlier that morning…
The Shrieking T’s: Tina, Tiffany, and Theresa. Horrible girls, just horrible.
The kind of girls a boy wouldn’t take home to Mom because they’d end up fucking his dad. That being said, my threat was black and white. If it didn’t happen, not only would I be exposed and ostracized by the entire campus, but Jack would be embarrassed and never speak to me again.
Like clockwork, I saw the Shrieking T’s at the campus café on Thursdays when I walked back from class. It was their favorite place to pretend to eat. They each bought a bottle of water and picked at a shared piece of cake. I’d never seen them lift a fork to their mouths. The cake was crushed until it was unrecognizable mash, then tossed into the trash.
“Hey there,” I said, plopping down next to Tina in their booth. I had borrowed a pink sweater from Allison and pulled the one cream shirt I owned from the bowels of my dresser drawers. “You guys are on the cheerleading squad, right?”
“Yes,” Tina remarked, giving me a snooty onceover. “Why?”
“Oh, good. I was wondering if you knew firsthand if Jack Porter was dating anyone?” I propped my elbow on the table and laid my chin in my palm, flashing them a brilliant smile.
“Who are you?” Theresa snapped, checking out the diamond tennis bracelet on my wrist (also “borrowed” from Allison).
I looked over at the sandwich bar and pulled a name out of my ass. “I’m Sanwicha Hamm.”
Oh shit. I didn’t even think about them asking for a name. I’d have to give myself lashings later for my lack of preparation. To be fair, I’d only received the note last night. Even evil geniuses need adequate lead-time.
“Sanwicha Hamm?” Tiffany squinted her eyes and dropped her fork on the plate. “That’s a fucked-up name.”
“I know, right? It’s been passed down through the family line. It’s a stipulation in my trust fund. But I go by my middle name, Paisley,” I said after spotting a girl wearing paisley pajama bottoms. Pet peeve of mine, pajamas in public. Have a little self-respect.
“How do you know Jack?” Theresa asked, and that’s when I suspected if anyone wanted to “do” the socially inept Jack Porter, it was Theresa Denton. The girl scored a zero on the self-esteem scale, but I was betting she scored a ten on the infamous pussy scale.
“Oh, we used to date in high school.” I let out a sad, long sigh. “I’ve just been missing him. I was with that QB on your team the other night, and I was just so disappointed. I mean, come on, right? Guy thinks he’s the king of world, but he’s got the stamina of a lit match. It’s there and then it’s not, right?”
Tiffany and Tina shook their heads, but Theresa nodded, agreeing with my statement.
I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat. These next words would burn a hole in my larynx, but I could tell Theresa was biting.
“Jack was always so tender. He’d last for hours. Talk about a selfless lever.” My mouth went dry.
“Lever?” Tiffany inquired. “What’s a lever?”
What’s a lever? How did these people get into college?
My traitorous mind was messing up my words. I know it’s wrong, brain, but do it for Jack. Do this for Jack.
“Oh geez. I meant lover,” I choked out as part of my soul died. “I guess I said lever because Jack is so hard and wide that he can just like lift you up with his equipment.” At this point, I circled my open hand suggestively just outside my nether regions. “You know. Like a lever.”
“Really?” Tina chimed in, thinking over my words as she licked the edge of her fork. “I would have never guessed. I mean, he doesn’t say much to us, just kind of walks to the opposite side of any room we’re in.”
“I think he’s afraid his reputation will get out,” I said, picking up an extra fork and mashing along with them. “I mean, once it got out in high school, all hell broke loose, but I was always sad because I wasn’t his type, not reall—”
“What’s his type?” Theresa interrupted, pulling my hand across the table. She was frothing at the mouth.
“He likes blondes with a light spattering of freckles, strong eyebrow arches, a lower lip that’s bigger than her top lip, green eyes with a spike of gold around the edge of the pupil, and pug noses,” I said quickly, naming everything on her face.
“That’s you, Theresa!” Tina squealed next to her. “Oh my God!”
So after that, I told them I was going to find him tomorrow and profess Sanwicha Hamm’s undying love, and that’s when they dropped the doghouse bomb. Party at the doghouse tonight… Invite only… Jack would be there… Theresa would be there…
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I’m rich,” Fernando announced as I walked into the living room.
Chance had on his gamer set, rapidly pushing buttons on the Xbox remote. We both turned to look at Fernando. He was lying in his boxers across the couch, fanning himself with six crisp one hundred-dollar bills like an Arabian prince.
“What are you talking about?” Chance spit out and flashed his eyes back to the screen where Scott Johnson had commando rolled around a shipping container with an AK-47.
“Well, I went out to get the mail and this”—Fernando picked up a white envelope marked Micro-dick on the front—“was taped to the inside of the box.”
I snatched the envelope from his hands and tore out the note inside.
Didn’t know your parents were poor. I don’t steal from hardworking people, just clueless meatheads. XOXO ~Bitch.