Page 152 of Collision
Shana curls her lip and exclaims, “Too bad. Guess I’ll just have to throw it out now,” she says, considering the cup.
“Don’t mention it. So, I don’t want to keep you a minute longer…” I gesture for her to walk over to the garbage and recycling bins at the entrance to the cafeteria.
But instead of leaving, she just stands there, completely immobile. “No, I don’t have to go that far. Luckily for me, there’s a true garbage dumpster right in front of me,” she says with a sinister grin.
In a flash, she pours the whitish liquid into my lap, leaving me petrified with shock.
“Oops. What a disaster.” She grins wickedly, holding the glass upside down over me with one hand while, with the other, she covers her mouth. Beneath her fingers, perfectly manicured and painted red, I can see her haughty smirk.
My heart is in my throat. I blink several times, unable to react while the cold juice drips between my legs, through the fabric of my jeans. I look at my stained clothes. I look at the students around us, giggling under their breath, trying not to be obvious. I look at Logan, visibly incensed. He remains motionless, though, as if something is preventing him from speaking, from defending me. I am humiliated.
“I’ll give you a little tip.” I am transfixed by Shana’s sharp voice. “The hand soap in the bathroom works wonders. If I were you, I’d go and clean myself up right away,” she says with a snobbish air. Then she backs away a few steps before letting the plastic cup fall to the ground and smiles coolly at me. Finally, she turns away, crosses to the cafeteria exit and disappears into the hallway.
I look down again at my now-soaked jeans, which give off the sweet smell of coconut.
“Vanessa, why…” Logan rests his forearms on the table and leans toward me. “Why did she do that?”
“Don’t…don’t say a single word.” I take a big breath and force myself to look up at Logan. “I’m going to the bathroom to clean these stains. When I come back, we’re going to pretend this never happened,” I pronounce implacably, with the blood still boiling in my veins. I don’t get why he didn’t say a single word in my defense. I get up slowly and leave, saying nothing else.
I don’t want to cry in front of everyone, but dammit, I really need to cry right now. All I want at this moment is to burrow under my comforter and hug one of my stuffed animals to my chest. Instead, I’m here in this bathroom rubbing soap into my overalls while tears blur my vision.
Why does everything go so wrong? Why do I have to pay such a steep price to get what I want?
I hear the clicking of a pair of heels on the floor and then the bathroom door opens.
“You know, I knew I’d find you in here, whining like some pathetic little girl,” says a sharp voice that I know all too well.
Standing in front of the rectangular mirror above the long row of sinks is Shana, in all her unbearable haughtiness.
“I assume there is something about me being so pathetic that just absolutely fascinates you, Shana. I have no other way to explain it.”
“What is it that you can’t explain?” she asks irritably, taking a tube of scarlet lipstick from the clutch she carries. It matches her hair.
I move closer to her until I’m standing right beside her. “Your obsession with me.”
She looks at me blankly in the mirror for a few seconds before she bursts out laughing. “Sweetie, I am not obsessed with you.”
“Then why do you keep tormenting me like this?”
“Because it’s fun.” She opens the lipstick and applies it to her mouth. “You’re perfect entertainment for these moments of downtime.” She presses her lips together and lightly rubs them. “And, to be honest, I needed to find a way to talk to you.” She pauses and turns to look directly at me. “In private.”
“And to do that, you just had to pour a smoothie on me, in front of everyone?”
“Well, I had to get you in here without asking you directly. Besides, let’s face it, I also wanted to have some fun.”
“Yeah, because you’re a bitch,” I spit, full of vitriol. She brings a hand to her heart and makes an exaggerated pout, pretending to be hurt.
“You really got me there,” she sneers.
My eyes narrow to two slits and, nerves completely shot, I snap at her, “Would you just tell me what your problem is? I mean, do you really think that bullying me will make him come back to you? Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe, just maybe, it’s not actually my fault that he doesn’t want you? That it probably would have happened just the same without me? That maybe having great legs and a tight ass sometimes isn’t enough, if all you have in your skull is sawdust?”
A sort of derisive, devilish laugh escapes her. I wonder whether it’s even possible to hurt this girl.
“You are truly delusional. How long do you think it’ll be before he comes back to me? Hmm? I’ve known Thomas since the day he set foot in this town. Sometimes he wanders, it’s true, but in the end, he always comes back to these ‘great legs.’ Because I give him something he can’t find anywhere else. And I’m not talking about sex, but about so much more.”
It’s as if my whole body has just been charged with an electric shock. My knees are shaking, my head is spinning endlessly.
“Quiet, Clark. It’s quiet that he needs,” she continues, in the face of my clear astonishment.
