Handcuffs, Kisses and Awkward Situations (PUBLISHED, SAMPLE)

Chapter [6]

            Mel looked down at our chained wrists, then back up at me. "No, I wasn't talking about that. I meant you really did draw on your eyebrow with a Crayola."

            "I did not draw my eyebrow on with a Crayola." I frowned.

            My best friend gasped. "No way! Don't tell me Rachel Fawn was right. So it's true you drew it on with a permanent marker?"

            I was seriously close to running to the local market, sprinting back to school and coming back to slap Mel with a fish. Yeah. Good plan. Mel became seriously interested in my face art. She leaned in closer to eyeball it and just when she was about to poke it, I leaned back and smacked into Ryder.

            He frowned down at me, but said nothing, shifting awkwardly as he shoved something into his locker. I tried peeking over his shoulder but his broad shoulders blocked my view. Ryder pulled out his books for the next few classes and closed his locker, his face coming into view. Even though Mel knew we were handcuffed together, it didn't stop her from gaping at him. Girls like us, usually didn't even come close to a five metre radius with guys like Ryder.

            "Wow..." she muttered. "Is it true that half a shaved face is what's hot in Europe?"

            As always, Mel had no problem with asking people about gossip. It was just the way she was; shameless with her addiction to rumours. And what she said about Ryder's half shaved face, was pretty insulting. I mean, he shaves half his face and it suddenly goes around that it's a trend in elite fashion. But my missing eyebrow sparks up a story, making everyone think I used my face as a canvas with a couple of crayons.

            High school sucks.

            Ryder raised an eyebrow and shrugged, which, apparently, was enough to pass as an answer, because Mel gasped in understanding and nodded. I, on the other hand, just stood there and watched them exchange telepathic messages through facial expressions. I seriously needed to get in with the whole silent conversation thing.

            "So, are we still sitting together?" Mel asked, walking along side us.

            "Of course," I answered.

            "Actually, we made plans with my friends," Ryder cut in.

            "Since when?" I snapped as we exited the building.

            "Since just now," he replied, nodding over at his friends that had gathered around the school fountain.

            It was a large group, mostly consisting of jocks and pretty chicks, but although they all hung out together, they still split into smaller groups. Ryder's best mate, Caine, was sitting on the edge of the fountain, flexing for the giggly brunette who sat on his lap. They all had this superior aura around them and the guys shone like stars in their black and white varsity jackets.

            I knew instantly I wouldn't fit it.

            Mel must have been thinking the same thing because she paused. "I think..." she said, trailing off and hesitating as she stared at the group of populars. "I think I'll go find someone... Um, see you later, Nora."

            "Hey," Ryder called, just as Mel was about to drift away. "You can stay."

            Mel's eyes widened as she stared from the group of Ryder's friends, to me and back to Ryder. "Seriously?"

            "Sure." Ryder shrugged. For a brief second, I thought Ryder was being nice. "I mean, it's not like any of my friends like Nora."

            Nope. Still an ass.

            We hardly took a step further before a group of giggling girls rushed over to us. I started screaming and flailing my arms around like a drowning cat. But, seriously. Wouldn't you do the same thing too? Try to protect yourself from a stampede of squealing girls. I mean, they're scary.

            "Jessica, Hailee, Bree," Ryder soothed, giving each of them five precious seconds of his killer, mysterious smile.

            One of the girls reached up and touched his cheek. "Loving the new look, Ryder." Then she turned and saw me. "Nice Crayola eyebrow."

            "Gee, nice to meet you too," I grumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my drawn-on eyebrow.

            I focused my attention on the fountain in front of me. It was painted coral blue, surprisingly clean, considering all the messy teenagers who loitered around it. In the centre of the fountain was a sculpture of a half lion, half human god. From its upraised palms, water, as clear as crystal, squirted and cascaded into the pool below. If you leaned in close enough and looked past the rippling sea, you could see glittering coins. And each of those coins held a wish.

            It was a school tradition that each graduating class would surround the fountain, toss a coin and make a wish on the last day of their academic careers. I was exactly seventy-three days away from doing so. Suddenly feeling nervous, I stepped away from the water and back into safe grounds.

            Although the fountain was reserved for the graduating class, any day that wasn't the last day of school, the fountain belonged to the populars. Rumours go around all the time about kids getting tossed into the fountain because they got too close. And even though I doubted it was true, I didn't want to get close enough to see if I was wrong.

            "Man," Mel muttered, "I didn't know chilling here would be so intimidating. They're all so... mature. I'm scared to eat my sandwich in front of them."

            My eyes flicked towards her. Her hair was dancing wildly around her porcelain face, like tongues of fire. "I know. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

            Mel's eyes widened as she gaped at me. "Are you serious?" she squeaked. "Do you know how much gossip goes around here? I can finally get some information right from the sources, rather than it being tossed around half a dozen times. This is great!"

            I rolled my eyes at my friend. Mel really had no shame when it came to gossip. By the time lunch was over she had discovered that one of the jocks had a third nipple and one of the girls had a feet fetish. She couldn't stop chattering about the excitement, her enthusiasm oozing from her lips with every juicy word. I always thought she'd make a good journalist.

            When we departed to go to class, Mel left in a happy flurry and I returned to my miserable state. Detention couldn't come fast enough.