#Chapter 04 Just For Show

New Year’s Day was on a Wednesday, so school started back the following Monday. At least I had a few days to deal with my emotions and plan for the worst.

Oliver may not have been the captain of the hockey team, but he was fairly popular in his own right. Moreover, I was seen with Alex. The rumor mill at Redmond High was certain to be rolling with new gossip.

My schoolmates do not disappoint.

In the school halls, people whisper as I pass by, watching me with hawk-like eyes. Some laugh at me, whispering about icing and cupcakes.

I keep my gaze on the ground, trying my best not to mind them.

The best thing I can do is just mind my own business. Give it a few days, and something else will probably happen to attract everyone’s attention. I’ll be able to return to my normal life, sans a fake boyfriend.

At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. But the road to get there seems more bumpy than I could have anticipated.

During lunch, I go through the line, picking up my usual tray of Redmond’s poor attempt at the food pyramid. My usual table waits for me at the corner of the cafeteria, away from curiosity and the sounds of the New Year’s party recording. Just a few more steps to freedom—

But my foot catches on a white shoe that suddenly sticks out. I see it happen since I’m already looking down. That doesn’t mean I can avoid it.

I barely manage to put my hands out and catch myself, letting go of the tray. My styrofoam plate and little carton of chocolate milk spill out in a splash, some hitting the front of my non-Oliver sweater. My backpack slips from my shoulder, falling onto the ground.

Immediately, I hear snickering above me before a sweet voice cuts in.

“Oh my God. I didn’t see you there! I was getting up from my seat and…ohh. You’ve got to watch where you’re going.”

Her voice tilts in all the wrong ways, purposeful giggles coming from her friends. My lips pull tight and pull my knees under myself, flipping my bangs out of my face.

Danielle Cleare crouches in front of me with concern so plastic, I could’ve mistaken her for a Barbie doll. I didn’t recognize her tawny hair and blue eyes when I first saw her at the New Year’s Eve party, but I do now. I ended up stumbling upon her face while looking over hockey-related posts on the school website.

Her dad’s some big hockey team owner, but that’s all I knew. The most prominent thing for me was that she was the girl I’d found in bed with my sham of a…with Oliver.

Her pretty pink lips pulled into a sharp smile. Although she’s crouching in front of me, she doesn’t do anything to help. She gazes at me with the curiosity of a child smushing ants and watching them struggle.

“You’ve really got to stop being so clumsy. You destroyed the cupcake table at the New Year’s party. Do you need help learning how to walk again? Or maybe you’re just too airheaded?”

…I’m pretty sure I know why she’s doing this.

She and Oliver are a thing, clearly. And the reaction Oliver had to me was likely something she didn’t like. Instead of talking to me about it, she’s assuming…something.

Whatever it is she’s assuming, I’m now Enemy #1. And since I’m not anywhere high on the social totem pole, I’m free game for bullying.

But I’ve dealt with enough stuff like this.

Reacting to her or her friends wouldn’t do anything but excite them. The main reason they’re doing this is to watch me squirm. Nothing I say or do will suffice.

“...It’s fine. I’m fine.”

With my lunch ruined, I still try to clean it up, putting the crumpled styrofoam back on the tray. When I reach for my backpack, one of Danielle’s friends kicks it away. The girls around me giggle more.

My eyes close. Then I look toward Danielle’s shoes.

“...What do you…want?”

“Huh. Guess you’re not totally braindead,” she replies.

Danielle leans in, staring down at me harder.

“Listen. I don’t like it when my boyfriend gets too close to other girls. He told me you two were buddies, but I think…maybe you should back off? Just a suggestion, you know?”

…Right. Staking her claim, I guess.

Danielle doesn’t ask for my side of the story, not knowing how Oliver lied to me for six months, maybe more. Has he ever been my friend, or was he just planning on playing me for a fool all along?

Apparently, I’m thinking too long. I feel irritation start to roll off of Danielle, the giggles from her friends ceasing.

“You hear me, right? Or are you too stupid to understand?”

“...You’re clear.”

Danielle smiles. “That’s my last name. Don’t wear it out.”

She gets up easily and walks away without helping, one of her friends kicking my bag one more time for good measure. I sit there for a moment longer before I start cleaning up the mess on the ground. Janitors may be here to work, but I don’t see the point in senselessly making their jobs harder.

I’m wiping up the milk with some errant, empty sheets of paper in my backpack when someone arrives with brown paper towels. I reach up to accept it, but I freeze when I see who it is.

Oliver looks down with some sort of pain in his eyes. I turn away and finish wiping the milk up with my bag papers.

“...Hey.”

I say nothing, throwing what I could on the tray.

“Hey, Cynthia.”

…It’s frighteningly easy to just stay quiet. I’m used to doing that, after all. I should’ve just done this forever.

“Cynthia. I just…why haven’t you answered my texts? I’ve called you so many times.”

Oliver keeps talking, but I ignore him, quietly cleaning up. He doesn’t seem to mind, whispering at me.

“I kept trying to tell you. I…really didn’t want it to come out this way, okay? It’s just…I’m dating Danielle because of her dad. He owns the Parlevoue Penguins, and if she puts in a good word for me, I have a real chance at this!”

He keeps going, even after I stand up, taking my tray to the nearest trash can to throw the food that hadn’t splattered on me away.

“I’m just looking out for my future, alright? My thing with Dany’s just for show—”

“Oliver.”

He pauses, but I don’t bother looking at him as I pick up my backpack.

“Just…leave me alone. Please.”

“...But, Thia—”

“You’re…looking out for your future. So…uhm. Don’t…ruin that. Talking to me.”

He doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. Even if he does, I don’t let him, leaving him and the cafeteria behind.

I feel terrible, my chest clenching and my throat starting to close. It will make it harder for me to talk if this keeps up.

But because my luck is shit, I hear someone else call out my name.

“Oi, Cynthia!”

My eyes twitch, then trail over to Alex. He approaches with his hands in his jean pockets, wearing a white button-down under a gray sweater with a zip-up front. As he walks up to me, he gives me a once-over as he did outside the restaurant, his brows crunching with mirth.

“Hey, coming up with a new fashion statement? Not sure it fits. Food’s meant to be eaten, not worn,” he laughs.

I stare at his neat clothes and tall stature. He’s just…always in such good form. Meanwhile, he’s only ever seen me at my worst.

I seem to only ever be at my worst recently.

Unable to bear it, my face flushes and I turn away, walking off quickly as I scrunch in on myself.

And just like the restaurant situation, I hear footsteps follow me not long after.

“...Hey, Cynthia? Hey, sorry. What I said, ah… Are you alright? What happened?”

As he follows me, I hear whispers start to crop up at the sides of the halls. I just told myself to stay out of the limelight, but it just keeps following me.