The Broken Girl and The Golden Boy

Real or Not Real?

Chapter 8: Justin

She wouldn't look at me. For two whole days, Piper Breen would not meet my eye. She only spoke to me when absolutely necessary and even when she did, her gaze stayed firmly locked on her hands. I hated it.

It seems kind of strange that I had been fine without her speaking to me before we met, but now every second she avoided me hurt like hell. Weird how a person could come to mean so much in just a few days. The only thing I could think was, what did I do wrong? It seemed to start with that sketch on Tuesday... something about the story she told me felt wrong, like I was missing a key piece of the puzzle. And another thing, the crying episode she had right afterwards... Piper didn't just look sad, she looked terrified.

Or maybe I was imagining it all? At this point I had - almost - accepted that I couldn't get a read on Piper; she was too good at sealing her emotions away. I couldn't tell whether anything I thought I saw in her expression was real or not.

Besides, the point wasn't really why she was avoiding me; what I really needed was to figure out how to get her to stop. I had to ask her to come to the Homecoming game, I'd promised Coach... And, hard as it was to admit when she was acting like this, I really wanted her there.

I walked into Chemistry class this morning, determined to talk to her about it... but she wasn't there. My brow wrinkled in confusion. Piper was usually the first one here in the morning, and I doubted that she would miss school because she was sick.

I sat down in my normal seat as the other students filed into the classroom. But when the bell rang, she was still nowhere to be seen. My newfound protective instincts were kicking into high-gear and I couldn't help, but feel more and more worried as Mr. Hollough started the class.

What if she got in a car accident? What if she really had a concussion and she's passed out somewhere? What if someone mugged her and left her for dead on the streets? A million other what if's were swirling through my head and I felt the blood draining from my face.

"Mr. Cameron?" Mr. Hollough eyed me with concern, "Are you feeling quite all right? You look a bit pale all of a sudden. Are you ill?"

"I'm fine," I mumbled.

"Dude, you can't hurl now!" one of the guys groaned, "The big game is tomorrow. We need you, man!"

"I'm not going to hurl!" I snapped, "I said I was fine!"

"Okay, just be cool, bro," he said, putting his hands up, "No need to go all psycho on me."

"Oh, it's not your fault," Claire said to the guy - I think his name was Jared - before I could respond, "He's just upset because his little whore isn't here."

"You better shut your fucking mouth, Claire," I snarled, "Just because you'd spread your legs for any guy that asks, doesn't mean that Piper would. She's a million times better than you'll ever be."

"Is that why you're so stressed out?" she replied, reaching forward to rest one of her fake-nailed hands on my shoulder, "Haven't had a good screw in a while? I could fix that..."

"See, this is what I mean," I snorted, jerking out of her grasp, "You're such a slut."

"Well, would you look at that?" Claire sneered, "Justin Cameron, our glorious football captain, is Art Freak's little whipped bitch!"

"No, Claire," I answered with a harsh glare, "Me rejecting you has nothing to do with Piper. I'm just not into desperate girls with STDs." She gasped, her eyes going wide with surprise.

"I think that's quite enough from the two of you," Mr. Hollough called over the clamor of the other students, "Please go to the principal's office and talk out your differences there." The expression on his face left no room for argument.