Jason is my lab partner. He was also, or according to Jane, still is, Jane’s quarterback boyfriend. Star of the football team. He’s not very bright but usually sweet to me. He’s one of the only ones who is. But maybe he’s only sweet so he passes because I’ve been helping him along. Well, more than helping. I’ve been letting him cheat off me.
“Anyway, you can’t say anything until the night is over,” Jane continues.
I’m imagining a Carrie moment, pigs’ blood included. Idiots.
“What’s he going to do?” Ana asks, actually managing to sound concerned.
“Just take some pictures. It’s all just fun, you know? Teach her a lesson. Teach her not to flirt with another woman’s property,” Jane finishes, the venom in her voice turning it ugly.
“What kind of pictures? That’s not really—”
“Why do you care?” Jane snaps. “I didn’t think you two were friends anymore.”
“I don’t! We’re not! She’s crazy.”
Fuck you, Ana. I dig my nails into my palms so hard I draw blood hating the fact that Ana still has the power to hurt me.
The bathroom door opens then, and a group of girls stumbles noisily in. It forces Ana and Jane to leave, thank goodness, and I wait just another minute before slipping out of the stall and returning to the prom to find my date.
The good news is that this isn’t new to me. For almost two years now, I’ve been essentially on my own. Not even bullied really. They’re scared of me because I’m not some meek little coward who will lick their asses. I’m too angry for that.
I remind myself of it as I dig my nails deeper into my palms. People clear away from me, sensing whatever this is coming off me. Good. The stares and whispers I can’t do anything about, but what I can do is not give a fuck. I can not give them the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurts me when I hear the way they bastardize my name and make it into Mad Elena.
The music is loud, and the gym decorated for a high school prom. Junior year. It’s, as expected, shitty. Although that’s probably my attitude. I shouldn’t have come. I should have known better.
The dance floor swells with the popular kids dancing in groups, one so similar to the other, it’s a wonder anyone can tell them apart. I see Ana among them and when our eyes meet, it slows me down for a minute. It stops her dancing, but she’s quick to look away. She has new and improved friends now. A new and improved life.
I look down at myself, at what I’m wearing. A black floor length dress of intricate lace, with long sleeves and a high neck. I paired it with my usual chunky boots and my hair is loose down my back. Freshly dyed black. I dyed it for my stupid date. For this ridiculous night.
God. What am I doing here? I don’t belong here.
I turn to go then, but I hear my name. “Maddy.” A hand wraps around my arm, stopping me.
I look at it, then up at Jason as he spins me around to face him, tugging me so hard that I crash into his chest and bounce backward. “Don’t call me Maddy,” I snap and pull free.
“Sorry. Thought you preferred it to Mad Elena.”
Does he say it the way the girls do? Or am I hearing that? Is it even true what Jane said? Jason hasn’t been cruel to me.
Not yet.
But the term is just about over. He’ll pass science. He doesn’t need me anymore.
“You look pretty,” he says, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “Did I tell you that already?”
“No, you didn’t,” I say when he leans close. I smell cheap liquor on his breath.
“Well, you do. Real pretty.”
I put my hands on his chest to keep some space between us while I think.
“Something happen?” he asks, studying my face when I’m silent for too long. Something I’m probably mistakenly translating as concern wrinkles his perfectly smooth forehead. He pushes his hair back. It always flops into his face. He gives me that smile with the dimples that makes him look so innocent, so not like the rest of them. And I admit that there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to believe what I overheard. I don’t want to believe it’s true because I thought Jason and I were friends on some level, at least. As much as I hate to admit it, there is a part of me that wants a friend. Someone to cushion the loneliness.
A group of his friends passes noisily by, one shoving Jason’s shoulder as another makes a cat call. Jason grins, a gleam in his eyes as he meets theirs. And I know. I get it. Jane wasn’t lying.
I force a smile when he turns back to me. I stand up a little taller. It takes effort but I do it.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just looking for you, actually. I’m so happy to be here with you.” I say, throwing up a little in my mouth as I do. I step closer to him, set a finger on his lips and tilt my head, sticking my chest out. This dress definitely presents my breasts at their best. Maybe Jane was right. Maybe I am trying to get that kind of attention.
Jason looks eager as he drags his gaze back up to mine. “We should go somewhere private then,” he says with a glance at the dance floor, where I can see Jane watching us with daggers in her eyes.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” I say, still not sure of my game plan. Maybe lead him on and get him to strip naked then disappear with his clothes? As I think it, the perfect idea forms—because I need to do something.
I need to send my own message, and they need to be punished.
So I take hold of his tie and lead the way through the gym, heading toward the exit that will take us toward the classrooms.
I make sure to slip into the shadows, aware of where all the chaperones are throughout the gym. I shift my grip to his hand when he knocks into one of the tables of food. How much did he drink? I almost feel sorry for him.
Almost.
With a backward glance, I open one of the side doors and slip out of the gym and into the dimly lit hallway. A couple of kids loiter here, making out in the shadows.
“Where are we going?” Jason asks, tugging me to him and shifting his grip to my ass.
I grin and pull his arms higher to my waist. “Somewhere more private,” I tell him as I push through the door into the stairwell.
“I like the sound of that.”
Jason follows me up the stairs like a good little dog. Once we get to the science hall, he slows down. “They’ll be locked,” he says.
I pull him along. “Nah. I know where Henderson keeps the key.” Mr. Henderson is a functioning alcoholic. To each his own, but I’m pretty observant, and I know once he locks up, he tucks the key up onto the top of the doorframe.
“Good girl,” Jason says approvingly as I stand on tiptoe to retrieve it, then unlock and open the door.
“After you,” I tell him, swallowing back my distaste of being called a good girl. Are all men assholes? My brother isn’t. Not to me, at least. Dad, yeah, pretty easily falls into that category. All the ones from school do too. Jason just confirmed that. So maybe it’s true and my brother is the rare exception.
We enter the lab, and I shut the door behind us. I take a moment to make sure no one followed us before drawing the little curtain closed on the window.
Jason is very handsy as I push him backward toward our table. His lips are disgustingly moist, and I manage to turn my head just out of the way of his kisses. It’s not that hard, and I almost feel sorry for him.