Putting on Airs

Rancor and Rapport

Two weeks have passed since that fateful weekend of renewing friendships and reinventing myself. Since I no longer have the semi-protection of the cheer squad available in the hallways, I have to be on the lookout for the more notorious offenders. Silas at my side helps, but I find the other guys hovering nearby when Silas isn't available. This is definitely prearranged on their parts. They're careful not to appear as a group of friends.

Each integrates into their respective 'classification' on the school food chain. Sean even seems to have made headway with the teachers as only his brand of good cheer can. Kota plays up his smarts just enough to get in tight with the "geek squad" on campus. Victor, of course, embellishes his posh ways and becomes a preppy. Luke flits between groups, as he doesn't really seem to fit into any of the pigeonholed cliques around here, and Silas has found his way into the popular jock circle.

"The family house tonight?" Luke asks as we make our way to the main exit at the end of school Friday.

I've been passed from house to house for the last couple weeks as none of the guys want me to have to rent another seedy room in an even seedier neighborhood. As Meanie put it, "There's no amount of bleach that can take away the filth of those kinds of places. Your clothes aren't bleachable at any rate, so your fucking skin probably isn't either!" I nod distractedly in response to Luke's question, but my mind wanders to the college campus we need head to as soon as we leave here.

I want to ask the head librarian if I can expand my hours a bit on weekends since I'm not in cheerleading. I've held off because we're still hoping Jade will ask me back. It hasn't happened yet, and they had qualifying competitions last weekend. It looks like Owen is heading for a disappointment. Just as we reach the black sedan Luke is driving, I hear my name called by the she-devil herself.

"Sang. Hold up a minute," she orders but makes no move to hurry herself along on her trek over to me.

Luke leans against his car and crosses his arms over his chest with a look of boredom plastered across his face. Jade's eyes devour the poor guy before pinning themselves on me. As much as I hate it, I force myself to look submissive. That worm-beneath-her-stilettos understanding we have and all.

"I'm going to need you to join the squad again. Smith can't get the height on the aerials you do, and we barely skated through qualifiers. I'll have Riss bring your uniform to the game tonight," Jade states and turns to walk off.

"I can't yet. I won't be cleared to do anything until next week after messing up my shoulders a couple weeks ago. Doctor's orders," I murmur sadly.

"Fine, but don't miss practice on Monday. We don't need you so bad that we'll put up with laziness," she hisses before giving Luke another appraising look and flouncing off with extra swing in her step.

My shoulders drop from their defensive posture as soon as she clears the parking lot on her way back to the school. I glance at Luke and roll my eyes. He smirks and throws me a small candy bar before opening the passenger door to usher me inside.

At the college campus, we rush to make it to class early enough that I can update the others about this new development. North, Nate, and Gabe save me a seat in their row, but before sitting there, I seek out the seat next to Owen in the row behind the others as if I didn't see them. I guess it would look weird if the class auditor fraternizes with the general student body.

"I hope this is worth it. The sociopath has summoned, and I'm about to be up to my eyebrows in backstabbing," I grumble as I pretend to search my backpack for some miscellaneous object.

"I assure you that we are closing in quickly. It won't be long, and I cannot express what your sacrifice means to our family," Owen states calmly as he hands me a pen—the same one I borrowed the first day, if I'm not mistaken.

Seeing the time on my little watch keychain, I stand up and move to my reserved spot between Gabe and North. Having never relinquished my need to work ahead, I'm several units beyond the current lecture in both studying and assignments. It's only attendance and exams that keep me coming to class. Oh, I must not forget the mystery of the dropouts. I fiddle with Owen's pen, but look more closely when I notice something off about it. The back, where the ink can be refilled, is loose. This is highly suspicious considering who the pen's owner is. He's not the type to allow his possessions to be off kilter.

I twist off the back and find a small rolled up slip of paper. On it is written 'This weekend is ideal if you would like to start on that project we've spoken of. You can come over from the big house whenever you're ready. Regards, Owen.' I quickly scrawl out an affirmative reply and place it inside the pen. Excited about having a new space to explore and task to complete, I almost forgive Owen for volun-telling me to rejoin cheerleading. Almost. I have North pass Owen his pen back near the end of class, then we all make our way outside without further discussion once we're dismissed.

Splitting off into groups, we exit the college lot together as a neat line of cars. I keep my head straight forward as Meanie messes with my hair from the back seat. I have no idea what he's doing, but the feel of his nimble fingers weaving through the hair I keep in a knot at the back of my head most of the time feels amazing. My eyes close of their own accord and do not open again until we pull to a stop in front of the big house most of the guys share.

"One more second, Trouble," Meanie mutters before I feel a final tug on my hair and am released from Gabe's hold.

"I don't even care what it looks like, Meanie. You can do my hair every day if you rub my scalp like that," I sigh dreamily. Gabe laughs smugly.

"It looks fucken awesome, Trouble. Come on. I have cooking duty, and I don't want to do it alone. You help, and I'll wash your hair later. Did you even shower before school?" he grumbles like I've insulted him.

"No, Meanie. I showered before bed last night. Nate takes up too much hot water in the morning, and I'm not fond of cold showers," I respond with exasperation as we head inside.

"I'm surprised he's not taking cold showers." Gabe huffs a laugh.

I narrow my eyes at him, understanding his suggestive comment, but keep my mouth shut. I'll help him with dinner then make him pay with the longest scalp massage in history. Meanie just doesn't know it yet.