Page 11 of Pretty Broken Things

After class my friend,or rather frenemy, Erin hooks her elbow through mine and drags me down the hallway to our lockers. “What the hell was that in class? Are you trying to fall down the social ladder?”

This was why I turned away when I caught him looking at me this morning. Yeah, we had a good time Friday night. Scratch that, it was phenomenal. Not because he’s hot, though he is, but that was the first time I could let my guard all the way down. I didn’t have to pretend to be a pampered princess spoiled by my father, who frankly barely seems to realize I exist anymore. Ford wasn’t impressed with all the shit I’ve been surrounded by, as if things were a decent substitute for love. He saw through it all, and saw me. It was liberating, and I want it back.

Brandie barrels through, knocking our arms apart. “Don’t be a bitch, Erin. We all know you were hanging around after cheer practice last week trying to jump on his cock.”

Erin shrugs. “Yeah, but banging the hot quarterback isn’t the same as befriending him.”

Brandie spins her lock, and looks back over her shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that. We all know you’re just pissed because he turned you down.”

Erin props her hands on her hips. “So you’d be friends with him then?”

Brandie screws up her face. “Hell no, but I won’t fuck him either. Can you imagine if he knocked you up? How much will you enjoy life in a trailer park?”

I bite my tongue so hard I think it’s going to bleed. Why can’t I be more like him? He walks around here, not giving a shit about the dirty looks or whispered words behind his back. He’s unapologetically himself, and I’m jealous. All of my money has trapped me in this inauthentic shell of a human being, and I’m exhausted, but I don’t know how to make it stop.

Tracy and her friend Lydia come over, opening lockers a few down from us. Erin pops her gum, always a fucking cliché. She points one acrylic nail down the hallway. “I think you’re in the wrong place. All the Parkers’ lockers are down there by the bathrooms. I’d grab your books before lunch though. Sometimes that area is rank.”

“How would you even notice with all the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” Lydia snaps.

Tracy puts her hand on her shoulder and pushes her back. “Ly, those bitches aren’t worth your manicure. Besides, Ford won’t fuck them, so we shouldn’t fuck with them.”

Erin slowly moves her eyes up and down Tracy. She’s hard to miss, looking like the after version of Sandy fromGreaseonly with long dark hair. Her black pants are strategically ripped, her boots have spiked heels, and her crop top shows off a ripped torso. Still, Erin is going to try and make it seem like she’s somehow lacking. It’s laughable how she thinks that every girl is insecure enough to fall for her shit.

I hold back a giggle as I watch Erin go in for what she thinks will be the ultimate insult. “At least Ford pays attention to us. I mean, I can’t blame him. He knows getting with one of us will help him move up in the world, while not only are you trashy as fuck, but what can you possibly offer him?”

Lydia scoffs. “Ford only hooks up with you rich bitches when he’s drinking. While Tracy here has been—”

Tracy puts her hand over Lydia’s mouth. “We don’t share Ford’s private life with Ocean Bluff girls. I don’t give a shit what these bitches think about me.”

Erin, not getting the reaction she craved, rolls her eyes. “Why are you even here, haven’t you dropped out like a billion times?”

Tracy shoves some books in her locker, and slams the door closed. “Ever hear of remote learning? I’ve got a high GPA, and enough credits to graduate at the end of this semester.”

Lydia and Tracy turn and strut down the hallway, reaching Ford and Shane who stand waiting for them near the stairs. Shane puts his arm around Lydia, while Tracy and Ford walk side by side.

“That bitch needs to be reminded of her place,” Erin begins.

Brandie scoffs. “I’d pay to see you try. Tracy will wipe the floor with you. And that’s if Lydia doesn’t get to you first.”

I walk away, leaving those two to bicker amongst themselves. Sometimes I wonder how I stay friends with these two. Turning the corner to the stairwell I run straight into Ford who is standing there lurking like a creepy stalker.

I rub my nose. “Damn, what is it with you and Shane lurking in doorways?”

“I wanted to talk to you, and figured you’d only do that if no one could see us,” he grumbles.

I inhale. I deserve that. Seeing myself through Ford’s eyes makes me like myself even less than I already do. I thought I liked being seen by him, but right now I’m feeling a little transparent, so I go with the tried-and-true tactic of deflection. “How did you know which way I was going to go?”

“You had your schedule in the front of your binder. I told you, I’m not stupid. There’s very little I don’t see, and what I do I never forget.”

“I thought you were done trying to be friends with me,” I mumble. There’s that vulnerability again. Why does it choose him to come out and play peek-a-boo?

Ford reaches out and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “When you’re open and honest like this, I could see us being friends, but when you’re around your court I’d rather choke you, and not in a fun way.”

“There’s a fun way to be choked?” Ford smirks, and I instantly regret my outburst. “Forget I said that. Why are you waiting for me if you don’t like me?”

His hazel eyes heat up and when he looks at me, I feel like he can see into my soul. I don’t like it. “I don’t like the version of you that shows up here at school, but the person I met at your house…I could be friends with her. The thing you need to know about me, if you learn nothing else, is that I fight for my friends.”

“Just spit it out before we’re late for class,” I demand. I hate being late for class. Can’t maintain a perfect reputation if you land in detention.

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