Past Perfect

Chapter 5

Awesome.

The bell rang and we hurried into English class. I felt the eyes boring into me from every angle, could almost hear what they were thinking. For the boys, it would be relief that I hadn't lost my looks. But the girls? They were looking for the scars, the marks that labeled me imperfect. I wore sweats with a hoodie over my compression dressings. I was hot and wanted to unzip the hoodie. Under it, I wore a loose t-shirt. But I didn't want to reveal my injuries.

I slid behind my desk and Taylor hung my backpack off my chair. She flashed me a bracing smile and took her own seat, in the last row. I busied myself removing a notebook and pen from my bag, trying hard not to hear the whispered conversation taking place one row over.

"Look at her. She's still so perfect. Jack can't take his eyes off her."

"She was probably at the spa for the past two weeks."

Under my hoodie, t-shirt, and layers of gauze, I was sweating. The smell of compression bandages that need laundering was pretty damn revolting so I decided, what the hell. I unzipped the sweat shirt, tugged it off and stuffed it into my bag. The t-shirt did little to disguise the thick dressing around my middle and its short sleeves couldn't hide the bandages that extended down both arms to my elbows.

A throat cleared. "Uh. Hey, Eden. Welcome back."

Jack Adrian, sweet in a dorky way, stood in front of my desk.

"Does it... you know, hurt a lot?" He jerked his chin toward the ugly beige cotton on my arms.

"Not so bad now."

"Good. That's..."

The bell rang, and he took his seat with a tight-lipped smile.

Twenty-two people in the class and only two could spare the time to talk to me.

It was going to be a long day.

***

Fifth period. Lunch time. I headed for my usual table, saw Belinda and Ashley already there. Ashley shook her head once, jerked her head to Belinda.

Right.

I took my tray to an empty table, spread out the notes Taylor gave me and started a round of Three P's, making a convincing show of my intention to be alone. It worked. Every one gave me a wide berth, though a few acquaintances stopped by with a smile and a wave.

I sneaked glances at Belinda, but she refused to meet my gaze. I noted she was wearing kicks instead of hot boots – her trademark. Were her feet still hurt?

"She's fine."

I whipped my head around just as Taylor slid onto the seat opposite mine. I shot her a brief smile. "How did you-"

"Adam told me about your worry face."

"My worry-"

"Oh, yeah. Worry face. Like this." She frowned, chewed on her bottom lip. "First time he saw it was the day you met, in Ranger's tub."

My eyebrows shot up. He told her about the day we met?

"He didn't know that's what it was... not until you helped Sam."

Sam. Right. I hadn't seen Sam in a week. He was discharged right after I was.

"Need any help deciphering these?" She grabbed the notebook and rotated it toward her.

"No, you were really thorough. Thanks."

"No problem."

"So, listen. I have a favor to ask you."