That Night

Chapter Eight

In an instant, I was completely aware of a thousand different things at once: the ticking of the hallway clock, the chatter of the girls behind me, the clacking of a pair of high heels, the beating of my heart.

Katia's eyes flared wildly as she barreled towards me, abandoning her friend who didn't look too pleased with me, either.

I didn't care if Katia confronted me in the middle of the hall – it was going to happen eventually, and everyone would hear about it anyway – but now was a really, really, really bad time. I had stopped in my tracks when I saw her, and now, I was just two feet away from Juliet. I was going to show her the work I had done last night for our project, which was way more work than I actually needed to do. She was going to smile at me and tell me I did a good job. But now, she was going to look at me as if I were a monster.

"Dash Mayer," Katia screeched from down the hall, resembling a banshee in more ways than one.

At that, Juliet looked up and saw me standing a few steps away. I had to think quickly.

"Juliet," I blurted out, taking one long stride to cover the space between us. But I was too late.

"Dash Mayer," Katia growled this time, now standing right behind Juliet, who spun around in surprise.

"Katia, come on," I started to plead with her.

"Oh no, Dash," she spat, crossing her arms.

"Juliet, you should –"

"No way, Mayer. She's not leaving," Katia cut in again. "Every girl in the school – in the entire fucking town – deserves to hear this."

"Dash?" Juliet squeaked nervously, looking up to me.

"Are you going to fess up, or should I tell everyone what a jackass you are?" Katia stared at me crossly – everyone in the hall did, at that point – and waited for me to answer.

Again, the ticking, clacking, chatting, beating all rang through my head, making me feel almost dizzy as I looked back and forth between the raging Katia and the questioning Juliet. My throat went dry, and there was only one thing I could think to do.

I ran.

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Once again, all eyes were on me.

"Dash, how nice of you to join us," Mrs. Torres said as I stepped through the door almost ten minutes late.

I had run out the door and to the parking lot, planning to get in my car and drive straight back home. But when I started the car, I remembered Juliet and the project, so I got out, pulled myself together, and dragged my feet back inside.

I didn't respond as I shuffled into the room, passing every single person on the way back to my desk. Juliet was sitting in the desk next to mine, working on our project alone.

"Do you have a note?" Torres wasn't going to let me go.

"No, ma'am," I mumbled as I sat down.

"Well, do you have an excuse?" she asked next, crossing her arms and looking at me curiously, almost hopefully.

"No, ma'am."

Torres sighed in disappointment. "I'm going to have to give you a demerit, then," she said more to herself as she sat down and began typing on her laptop.

After a few seconds of silence, the room slowly began to go back to its normal volume, but the topics of discussion were no longer about European history. I felt all eyes on me. All but two.