It was difficult to stalk after Hartley on crutches.
The stupid cast was coming off next week, and I couldn't wait to take advantage of that to march powerfully after Hartley like a girl on a mission. Sadly, in my current state, I did not exude the same energy as Gal Gadot crossing No Man's Land in Wonder Woman. People were still moving out of my way, but that was motivated by pity rather than fear.
"Hey, Lena, how you doing?" called Tommy DeRiva from across the hall, unsticking himself from his locker to wave. He was surrounded by his usual group of football dudebros; Tommy played in the same team as Jace. Tommy DeRiva had been my first kiss, way back when. Nice guy.
I waved back as best I could while I crutches. "Yeah, good thank you. How are you?"
"As good as you can be."
"Sorry, Tommy," I said. "I'm in a bit of a rush, just looking for my good mate Hartley."
Tommy frowned. "Did a new Hartley transfer here? I hadn't heard anything. Does Jace have a cousin or something?"
"Nope! Just looking for Hartley 1.0. Did you see which way he went?"
Confusion warred with amusement on Tommy's face as he hitched a thumb towards the left corridor. The rest of the pack seemed equally as confused, and struck up a whispered conversation that I knew would fly around the school in the next few hours. The new episode of the Jace and Lena show, the most puzzling instalment yet.
"Thanks, Tommy. We'll talk later."
I called my goodbye to Tommy, resolving to hang out with him and his backup dancers in the near future. Our group was relatively inclusive, and we hardly only talked to one another, but I hadn't attended a party—my ill-fated attempt to crash Marc McGovern's my closest foray—in months. I hadn't seen my extended homies in far too long.
Tommy waved me off, turning back to his friends with a grin.
I resolved to organise a party ASAP.
Weekly To-Do List:
1. Organise party
2. Find and kill Jace Hartley
3. Get rid of secret list to destroy evidence
Packed schedule.
When I turned into the left corridor, I saw Jace leaning against the lockers chatting to Chance, laughing and doing those weird male camaraderie handshakes that seemed to be ingrained in every guy once they hit 13. It was like they all collectively took and seminar and decided that saying hello was lame and feminine, and complex man-shakes were the way to go. Chance always looked exceedingly uncomfortable when confronted with the dudebro handshake. He had told me it was a gay guy thing.
I hopped over to the pair of them, grateful that McKenna had offered to dump my books in my locker for me. I wanted to start a Daria and McKenna fan club. The only thing stopping me, to be perfectly honest, was the knowledge that Jace would immediately sign up as a member.
Chance looked up from his conversation with Jace and immediately clocked my strange expression, a metamorphic blend of anger and pleasantness. "Lena. Hi." said Chance, nudging Jace with his elbow and widened eyes. "Uh, we were just talking about, um, fantasy sports and, um, RuPaul's drag race."
"A fun blend of both of your interests," I said drily.
Jace looked amused. "Subtle, Krisler. No, Lena, we were not talking about you."
"Of course not, I did hear that you had many thoughts to offer on RuPaul and his drag race. And Chance is just all over the fantasy sports."
Chance looked down guiltily. He was an awful liar. Thankfully, Jace had always been a patient guy. He wouldn't hold it against Chance.
"Why were you talking about me?" I demanded.
"Just discussing your delightful attitude and sunny personality," said Jace cheerily. Then he tapped the tip of my nose. I would've bit his finger if I'd realised what he was doing. Instead, I settled for a slight narrowing of my eyes.
Chance snorted a laugh.
"Anyway, Jace, I need to talk to you," I said. I kept my voice casual. Relaxed. I smiled when I spoke.
"Uh, okay, well I'm just going to, um, go. Then." Chance pulled himself away from the lockers, pushing his locker door closed and bundling his assortment of books in his hands. Jace gave him a wave as he hurried away, his footfalls quick and immediately swallowed up by the crowd.
Jace turned to me. "Just letting you know. When you try to be nice to me, you kind of look like you're constipated."
"Well, when you try to be nice to me, you're a dick."
He raised an eyebrow. "Good one."
"Oh, shut up and follow me."
I extended my crutches and made my way down the hall. Halfway down, I stopped and turned back. Hartley was staring after me sceptically, still standing beside Chance's locker with his feet planted firmly in place.
"I'm not going to kill you."
"Wasn't concerned about that. Uh, I kind of am now?"
I rolled my eyes and continued down the corridor. Jace was a predictable guy. I knew that curiosity would prevail over trepidation. And I was right, for a few seconds later, I heard a muffled curse and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the tiles as he caught up to me, falling into step at my side.
We made our way down the hall in silence, the only sounds we made our footsteps and the metallic click of my crutch against the tiles. Around us, there was a clamour of voices as kids collected their lunch and caught up with their friends. In my peripheral vision, I could see Jace sneaking glances at me, as if trying to read my expression like an open book. I looked steadfastly forwards.
When we reached the end of the hallway, I grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a secluded alcove. The school had been built inside an old-timey building, which leant itself to hidden corners and quiet spaces. It made two things very easy to hide. Making out and murder. Generally, the spaces were used for the former, but I was all about grooving to the beat of my own drum.
I expressed my individuality in the form of murder.
Jace leant back against the wall, giving me some space. This particular hidden corner was small. All the better to kill you in, my dear.
"Hey, bestie!" I said brightly.
"Oh, Lena, you know you can't ravish me on school grounds, as much as you might want to. Whatever would Mr. Prendler say if he saw you?"
I poked a finger into his chest sharply. "And that is exactly the kind of thing that you need to stop."
"I need to stop rejecting your advances and being so sensible?" asked Jace. He was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, all amusement and glee. "Lena, I swear, another place and time..."
"Okay, see, that. You need to stop it with all of your little innuendos and jabs," I demanded.
Jace's eyes were wide with faux-innocence, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This was tempered slightly by the twitching of his lips that betrayed his entertainment. There was nothing more infuriating than being angry, and having the object of your anger refuse to rise to your level. Jace was a regular culprit of this; I was convinced someone gave him a daily chill pill.
That person would be second on my hit list.
"So, you're asking me to pretend it never happened?" said Jace.
I gritted my teeth. "To pretend what never happened?"
"Don't you remember?" asked Jace.
I tilted my chin up obstinately, my face set in steel lines of stubbornness. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, really?" Jace stepped closer to me. I bit my lip and shook my head. Stubborn until my bitter end. With that irritating smirk still firmly planted on his lips, Hartley leant forward, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. His arms came forward to land on either side of me, his palms pressed against the wall, caging me in. I took a step back, but there was nowhere else to move. My head was pressed against the cool wood behind me, and all I could see, all I could feel, was Jace's eyes on my face.
I knew he wouldn't kiss me, not without asking, not without my permission. But he would do this; his body held just a few inches away, tantalising, begging me to remember.
With a sigh, I shoved him off me. "Okay, fine, yes. I want you to pretend it never happened. Which means no doing... whatever that was."
Hartley leaned back against the wall, looking smug and self-satisfied. Victory for Jace Hartley. "Pretend what never happened?" he said, in a sing-song voice.
I narrowed my eyes. "You know what."
"Do I?"
"I want you to pretend that you never kissed me."
"I'd like to think it was fairly mutual, wouldn't you say?"
My head pounded with anger, as if a vein was about to pop. "I want you to pretend that we never kissed."
Jace stood upright and patted the top of my head. "Don't worry, Montez. Secret is safe with me."
It hit me at that moment. The irresistible urge to win this battle, to not acquiesce to Jace Hartley. We were friends now, weren't we? And what was friendship without a bit of friendly competition. I mean, friend was in the title.
Turning my eyes downward, I looked up at Hartley through dark lashes. "It's just, I don't know. I thought we were supposed to be friends now, and it just seems like you immediately want to fall back into old habits. I just kind of thought that turning this new corner was something you really wanted."
I watched with glee as Jace's expression immediately shifted, guilt etched into the lines of his face. He pulled me straight into his arms, tucking my chin underneath his chest. The warmth that moments ago I had been dreading was kind of... well, comforting. And it was nice. I was a tall girl, an inch or so above the coveted six-foot mark. It had never bothered me, particularly. It made me better at sport and reaching tall shelves. But the feeling of Jace's head neatly resting above mine was... yes, well it was nice.
Uh, because it meant he'd fallen for my mock sadness. That was why.
"Elle, I'm really sorry. I honestly didn't mean to—"
I sniffled.
"Look, I do really want it. I'm sorry. I just... I've never known how to be your friend. The teasing thing was just a joke, honest." I could feel his words stirring the hair on the top of my head, the rise of fall of his chest against mine. "Really, I just wasn't sure you'd give me the time of day if I didn't give you a reason to."
I pulled back to glare at him. "Oh, so you think I'm a bad person now. I am a very inclusive person!"
He tugged me back into his embrace. "Okay, I said that wrong. No. You are a very inclusive person, just, I don't know, maybe after everything, not for me. I didn't want you to just ignore me or anything."
"Ah, yes, ignoring people, the trademark of a friendship."
He took a step back, looking me in the eye with a foreign intensity and care that was unfamiliar on his face. "I'm really, really sorry Lena."
We stared at each other for a moment, the noise outside the alcove fading as we fell into our own little world, waiting for the tension to break.
A grin spilled across my face. "I was only joking."
Jace reeled backwards. "You were— what?"
"Man, the look on your face." I giggled. "I wasn't really offended. I was just mad that you were gonna spill."
"Well..." said Jace, crossing his arms with a stifled laugh. "Fuck you."
I pouted at him with a dramatic sigh. "Oh, Jace, you know you can't ravish me on school grounds, as much as you might want to."
"Don't think I like being your friend anymore," said Jace.
"I am a delight, shut your face up."
"This is the kind of verbal abuse that I don't want from a friend."
"We can go back to being enemies, if you want. I heard about this prank, right, where you take a shit down someone's chimney, and I think I could get Alex on board."
Jace immediately clasped his hand over my mouth. "Friends it is."
I slapped his hand away. "Deal. Don't spill our secret, and I can try to be pleasant."
"Deal."