The League > jariana (COMPLETED)

four

Something brushed against my shin. Justin's foot. A colossal heat wave barreled through my body. Courage welled up inside of me, pushing the words from my mouth. "The judges said they'd heard enough. The 'sorry' letter came in the mail a few weeks later. I hadn't even made the Dungeon ... that's what they call the last row."

Zoe's hand slid across the floor, her pinkie tapping mine. An act of solidarity coming from her, of all people. She saw my double-take and laughed.

"What happened to your viola?" Nora asked.

"There was something sticky on my tuning pegs," I said. "Peach moisturizer." Peach moisturizer! It was the perfect detail. And so Tiffany. She was always pulling those sample-sized bottles out of her purse.

Richie paused, the implication sinking in. "Oh, man."

Nora pinched her nose. "Say no more. I can smell her a mile away."

Justin and Richie smiled at me, and I smiled back. Not because Nora was funny or empathetic, but because I'd survived my own lie.

"Tiffany Miller ruined my dreams," I added, wiping the sleeve of my shirt at a tear that wasn't there.

"That was cruel," Richie said, shaking his head. Nora and Zoe added grunts of disgust.

I felt pleased that my performance could inspire outrage. At the same time, I was stunned by my outrageous performance. The lie sat in my stomach like a clump of dough.

"Does she still bother you?" Richie asked.

"Not lately," I admitted. "I guess she's moved on to more important things."

Zoe snorted. "Like dyeing her hair twelve different shades of Clairol."

"Or making out with the entire lacrosse team behind the gym," Nora said.

Justin's hand was back. An inch higher this time. His fingers were beautiful, long and lean like a professional pianist's. "Someone should teach her a lesson," he said. "Show her how it feels to be humiliated, to have her dreams smashed to pieces."

Did this mean he finally understood that they were, in fact, my dreams? I smiled at the small victory, but Justin read my reaction differently. "That would feel good, wouldn't it, Ariana?"

The funny thing about Justin was that most of his questions came out like facts. Before I could think more on this, his hand crept a little higher.

....

After a Cheetos break, Richie scratched his head, leaving a few strands of hair pointing up. "Everyone knows my story already."

"Not your side of it," Justin said. "Here's where you set it all straight."

Richie gave him a plaintive look but did as he was told. "Two years ago, I got suspended for bringing drugs to school."

"Is it true you were selling at the middle school?" Nora asked the question on my mind. Probably on everyone's mind.

The way I'd heard it, the cops found a list of names in Richie's wallet. Some of the kids were only in the sixth grade.

"No way," Richie answered. "Dave Harper wanted me to ask my brother Tony for some weed. See, Tony was friends with this jerk named Eddie, who always had a supply. Anyway, Dave kept passing me notes in class, begging me to give him some. He wouldn't stop. So one day, I went into Tony's room, searched through his desk, and found his stash." He pressed his lips together like he'd already said too much.

I felt sorry for him, even though it was stupid to do a favor for a creep like Dave Harper.

"Mr. Reid caught Harper smoking it in the locker room," Justin said. "Took Harper about ten seconds to rat on Richie."