Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

12: paper bag and grandmother

"No. Two eyes for an eye," I said icily, trying to ignore the curious gazes following Elliot and me.

Just one of us was enough to attract attention- albeit for different reasons.

"Reneé's not going to just sit back, either. She's going to go to the security room like you did."

"I'll put it into her bag, in the gym locker room. Without a CCTV."

"The possibility of just making a report to a teacher isn't in your head at all? We're still in high school. Adults are around to handle these troublesome matters."

"I'll just look like a lame tattle tale, a push-over. I've attended years of girls school. I know how girls think." I paused. "I know how girls like her think."

"Putting a dead cat or chopped up doll into her bag isn't lame?"

"It is, but it'll be enough to scare her. She'll know not to pull cute pranks on me anymore."

"She won't dare pull bigger pranks. Everyone knows the two of us are dating."

"I don't need people thinking you're my prince on a white horse at school. That's going to make even more people hate me. That'd be troublesome."

"Part of the reason we're dating is precisely for that purpose- for me to act as your shield at school."

A shield. I remembered the fresh and old bruises on his legs, on his arms, on his collarbone under his shirt.

A shield at school, and something worse at home. My throat prickled.

I didn't know who it was- Richard or Landon Lockwood- who was responsible for the blue-blacks, the greens and red bruises. Maybe both, maybe one of them.

But the fact was that all family members- regardless of who threw the punches and who just watched- weren't on his side.

Being faced with his evident position as another victim and tool of the Lockwoods, was unsettling. How was I supposed to treat him now? Like someone really on my side? 

We arrived in front of the classroom. "Are you defending Reneé? Because you go to the same hotel with her?"

"I'm just saying you don't have to make life more tiring for yourself. By the way, it was a school trip, of forty kids altogether. To France," he added, grinning like he was enjoying my annoyance. 

"It's tiring," I acknowledged with a nod. "But unlike you, I just don't have the stomach to smile at people I know are aiming knives at my back. Teach me how to do that without feeling revolted, please."

Elliot's mouth tugged into a faint smile. "Let's go for class."

Being the daughter of Jessica Lee and Michael Horan put me under the limelight before I was old enough to fully realize the implications of the spotlight.

People moving awkwardly out of my way like the parting of the red sea, or crowding up to me with mental question lists and camera apps ready- I'd experienced the two extremes.

But standing in front of the classroom door and standing by Elliot Lockwood's side, made my stomach churn in a way it'd never before.

"...You want a paper bag?" Elliot asked, examining my face.

"I won't need one if we keep some distance," I said brusquely, looking away.

The whiff of the sharp peppermint-like, sweet cologne from him, hit my nose.

"Okay I love you too," he said sardonically, taking a deliberate one step away from me- and opened the classroom door.

Determined not to lock eyes with the numerous pairs of curious eyes, I sat with Bianca and Ester to my right, and Elliot and Noah to my left.

I was almost starting to get comfortable with this uncomfortable combination of people.

"You're fast with math," Elliot remarked under his breath, as I sat twirling my pencil after finishing the assigned questions during class.

"How dare I boast about being fast with calculations and weighing in front of Elliot Lockwood," I muttered.

"You're a natural when it comes to acting, too," he whispered, cupping his chin on his hand, and turning his body towards me.

"Must be a family talent. Almost cried hearing about your grandmother's camera. The grandmother that 'lives very far' from you."

"Oh, she does. She lives in Oregon. Terribly far. I get car sick- airplane sick- visiting. Puke every single time."

Almost as soon as class ended, Reneé came up to Elliot with her group of friends. I didn't know if it was just my imagination- the group seemed to have gotten bigger than the day before.

"Hey Elli, it's tennis club practice day, right?" Reneé said, not sparing the rest of us a glance. "There's this friend of mine- freshman, just joined- she's interested in joining the tennis club. I was wondering if you don't mind if we go to watch your practice matches?"

Elliot, still sitting in his seat twirling his pencil, looked up at her with a smile. Glancing at the auburn hair let them in curls, I shoved my books into my bag, my jaw clenched.

"Sure, of course. Hey, new earrings, right?"

"Seriously, how can you tell these things?" Laughing, Reneé lightly touched Elliot's shoulder. "Even girls don't notice these small changes."

"Looks great on you," Elliot grinned, standing and packing his bag.

As he was putting his Math book into his bag, Elliot stopped, pulled out a small paper bag from it, and handed it to me.

"The shirt from yesterday- from your house. It's washed."

At his words, Noah, who was determinedly trying to talk to Bianca, and Ester, who was on the phone, and Bianca, with her scowl, all froze. I was pretty sure they weren't the only ones who'd heard him.

I stared at Elliot, the words doing a replay in my head.

"Oh-" Noah put his hand over his mouth. "Wow."

"This assh- I mean, he- just borrowed a spare tee shirt," I said frantically, glancing at Bianca, whose expression was getting darker by the second, pinning Elliot with a look of disbelief. "Spilled, um, coffee."

"Let's drop by Walmart after school. I think one of your kitchen lights was out yesterday- or was it the-"

"Time to go for Chemistry." I said loudly, shoving the paper bag into my bag and zipping it. "Ah fuck, I hate Chemistry. C'mon. Ester- you're taking Chem with me, right? Let's go. We're running late."

Elliot tapped his watch innocently. "It's fine, actually. You still have nine min-"

"See you at the cafeteria for lunch later, Bi," I said through gritted teeth, eagerly pulling my bag over my shoulder. "Man, I'm starving already."