Evan Touber
CHAPTER 33 Don’t and Won’t
I’ve been trying to ignore my phone ringing nonstop since I left for school, but sooner or later my brother’s going to get fed up. With a frustrated growl, I yank the damn thing out of my pocket, pull myself into a corner and answer it. “What?” I ask immediately, not in the mood for talking to him or anybody else.
“Hey, Evan…” Jake starts slowly, sounding tired…but trying. Maybe that’s the part that’s bugging me right now: the fact that he’s trying. “I…didn’t see you this morning.”
I scoff. You didn’t see me? Really? I think sarcastically. No duh. “I left early.” I say tersely.
“Oh…” Jake says. “Uh, so what time do you think you’ll be back?”
I snort into the phone. “What? Now that they showed up I suddenly can’t take care of myself?” I almost sneer. “I’ve got practice so I’ll be coming home late.”
Jake is quiet for a moment. And then he says, even though I didn’t ask, “Because I was thinking of making reservations at that one French restaurant in Olton.”
For some reason, I have the urge to mimic him- an urge that I resist! but an urge that’s there nonetheless. “You hate that place,” I remind him wearily. He once said it had too expensive a price with too little a portion and too stuck-up a hostess. “Don’t try to and be classy, Jake; it just makes both of us look pathetic.”
And again, my sharp tongue brings about another moment of silence between me and my brother. But that restaurant thing wasn’t what he wanted to say. I think I know what he’s going to say, and maybe that’s what’s causing my frustration levels to increase.
It’s been a hard week for both of us. In fact, it’s been harder on him than it has on me…but I’m the one that’s going to suffer the most consequences in the end, and that’s why I’ve been- ahem…”bitchy.”
Finally, Jake says, “I’m fighting for you, Evan; I won’t abandon you again.”
I pause.
Part of me wants to tell him that he never abandoned me, but unfortunately that other part of me – that miserable, testy other part – is stronger today. So I grind out without any second thought: “Don’t even bother, Jake.”
“Wai- What do you mean, ‘don’t even bother’?!”
I exhale, closing my eyes. And then I yell loud enough for China to hear me: “Nothing matters anymore! Just give up!”
And I slam the phone shut and shove it back into my pocket where it belongs…right after turning it to vibrate. People in the hallway stare at me.
With a tetchy, frustrated growl, I glare at the library doors as I return through them. The librarian gives me a quick, uncertain look as I search about for the section I was in earlier. I still haven’t found the stupid books I stupid need yet, and I need to find them soon or else Ky’ll give me an earful for being late to practice.
I find the section I was in; my backpack is still where I left it. I resume looking through the dusty, allergy-inducing shelves bitterly, trying to keep from grumbling to myself; the last time I did that I got quite a few weird looks. Not that I even care.
On the other side of this shelf is a table full of openly-gossiping girls and boys. I catch a few words of what they’re saying without really meaning or wanting to.
“I swear to God,” one of them starts, “those twins are the most full-of-themselves pair I have ever met.”
I pause. She’s talking about the twins? The Madison twins? I mean, they are fairly full of themselves, but anybody would have the decency to tell them to their faces (only to have them to laugh and completely agree with you, of course).
“Ugh, are you kidding me? They don’t think aaanybody else is good enough for them,” another girl says, her voice annoyingly nasal. “They just think they’re suuuch hot stuff.” She tells her table, “They’re so in love with themselves, Q.E.D, they’re in love with each other.”
“Understatement.” A guy’s voice snorts. “They are the definition of ‘incest’.”
Okay, that part I can see where he’s coming from; the twins tend to be a little over-the-top affectionate with each other. And by “a little” I mean “wholly and completely.”
“You know what I heard?” another guy brings up just to feel part of the conversation, “I heard they used to be bullies in elementary school. They had kids crying in the bathroom every week. Girls and boys,”
I frown at the shelf. No, that can’t be right, because any time anybody said something bad about Madelin or Evilyn they’d-
“They go around telling people to quit bullying their friends when they were actually worse than that! Ugh!” the girl with the nasal voice exclaims, “What a couple of hypocrites!”
I narrow my eyes and grip the shelf tightly. Any tighter and the wood will start to crack. I can’t seem to go anywhere where things won’t annoy me, can I? I think while gritting my teeth. Can’t get away from Jake; can’t get away from people with irritating voices; can’t get away from people gossiping like nobody's business. The universe wants me to turn into a raging tornado, doesn’t it?
“They’re so pathetic,” some guy says with a tsk.
Yeah sure, buddy; they’re the pathetic ones, sitting around with nothing better to do but gossip about other people like reporters from People magazine.
“You realize how ironic that statement is coming from your mouth, don’t you?”
Ha, exactly… Wait, who’s voicing my thoughts?! I pull a book out of the shelf so I can see through to the other side, where several people are seated around a table…
…with Evilyn Cross leaning against a bookshelf, her arms folded across her chest.
It’s amazing how the girls I know can appear out of nowhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the other guy asks, like he’s giving her a chance to “rephrase.”
And she rephrases, alright. “I mean I wasn’t aware that the IGRB-double T was meeting today; if I had I would’ve called Kelsey; she would’ve gotten a kick out of this.” Evilyn says, sweeping back strands of her obsidian black hair; allowing the satirical look in her piercing eyes to be seen by all.
“The ‘IGRBTT;’ what’s that?” the nasal girl asks, wary of the infamous Evilyn.
I see her shrug, her hair slipping off her shoulders again as she does. “The apparent club you guys formed: the ‘I Got Rejected by the Twins’ group.”
She lifts herself from the spot she was leaning on while I blink in surprise. ALL these people got rejected by the Madison twins?
Evilyn continues, “Club activities include: pitying yourselves, obsessing over whichever twin turned you down, and bashing on the both of them because you’re all pathetic losers with no lives.” And she states this like a fact, her expression itself challenging.
No one dares to respond.
Evilyn appears to be fingering something in her free hand; I look a little closer and see what seems to be the necklace the twins apparently coaxed her into believing to be a good-luck charm. And for the first time, I comprehend just how much she cares about them.
With that in mind, I glance back at the stunned group around the table. They remain silent.
When no one challenges her, Evilyn starts to turn. “Next time, fix your own personality defects before making up ones for other people.” She says with a hint of darkness hidden - and yet perfectly clear - in her tone. And then she walks away, her long dark hair sweeping dramatically as she turns completely.
“Speaking of personality defects,” the nasal girl murmurs loudly once Evilyn is no longer in her line of sight.
Another guy snorts. “No kidding; talk about the Wicked Witch of the West.” And this starts a whole ‘nother topic of gossip; their minds veering from the Madison twins and focusing on Evilyn Cross.
I shove the book back into the shelf.
These people are annoying.
Irritated again, I snatch up my backpack and yank it onto my shoulder. If I don’t start heading to practice now I’ll barely have enough time to change. I turn around the corner and start to take the same path Evilyn had just a few moments ago.
“Don’t you think so too, Evan?”
I stop in my tracks. Please don’t tell me the annoying people are talking to me, because my temperament isn’t in a healthy condition right now. And why are they acting so familiar with me?! Being Ky Madison's "boyfriend," shouldn't they want to wring my guts considering that she romantically rejected half of them?! Growling internally in indignation, I turn towards the group.
“Don’t you think she’s so…hard to handle?” the nasal girl rephrases her question so that it’s rated PG.
I heard what she’d said before she rephrased though, and I found it pretty aggravating. I stare at all of them for a minute. They stare back, waiting for my response.
They picked a bad day to ask me to agree with them.
My voice comes out low and irrefutably peeved, and I say almost all at once: “She’s easier to handle than all of you, I expect. The only reason she behaved that way was because you were saying things about people she cares about possibly more than even she knows. And if you didn’t notice, immediately after she turned around, your bashing turned to her rather than back to the twins. She probably made herself look bad to you so that, by default, the twins would seem better. And she was right, by the way; fix your own problems before you concern yourself with other people’s.”
Some of them look a little intimidated by my tone; others are just appalled.
If they didn't hate me a second ago then they certainly hate me now. I adjust my backpack, not bothering to look at them anymore. “You can’t see into her heart, or the twins’; you have no right to judge them.” I say tersely, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to basketball practice or else my girlfriend will kick my ass from here to the next game.”
And with them still staring at me, I start to walk away…
…and I’m not even half-way down the aisle before something stops me again.
I backtrack a couple of feet, turn my head to the left, and lock gazes with a pair of turquoise eyes.
Evilyn and I stare at each other; a book is in her hand, partly opened. She never left the library; she was still in earshot, but she was just…out of sight…
So…the girl doesn’t care if someone calls her the Wicked Witch of the West, but if anyone accuses the twins of bullying and incest she goes non compos mentis?
We watch each other plainly for another couple moments. And then these words come out of my mouth on their own: “IGRBTT should only have one T,” I tell her simply, “acronym’s don’t take the ‘the’.”
Her expression doesn’t change; neither does mine.
“Oh,” she says normally, “I see.”
We feel the need to blink at the same time, and when we blink, I continue walking, and she closes her book and puts it back on the shelf. And that’s that, I exit the library and start walking down the hallways towards the boys’ locker room without another word to anyone.
No one is in the locker room when I get there, which means I’m late. Great, juuust what I need: my coach/fake girlfriend reprimanding me on account of tardiness. “Turns into a hardass all of the sudden…” I grumble meaninglessly under my breath as I change. Those aren’t my own words, actually; the freshmen are openly mumbling about it during practice. And for some reason, whenever Ky hears it, she grins like she’s accomplished something.
When I’m done changing I take out my bottle and stuff my bag into my locker. And as soon as I step out of the locker room I almost walk into Mandy O’Conner.
I have the best luck in the world!
And please tell me that you got that that was sarcasm; because I’m so worn out right now that I can’t even tell.
I refrain from grumbling and growling as she looks up at me. And then she pauses, and lets out a laugh, (which takes me by surprise).”Well, well, if looks could kill…” she muses, a delicate eyebrow raised as she looks me up and down.
Okay, here’s what I don’t understand: if my bad mood is so clear on my face, then why won’t people just leave me alone?!
I sigh on the inside. What was it Ky told me to do if Mandy O’Conner tries talking to me? Was it run away or not talk or both? Agh I can’t be expected to remember right now.
But it seems I don’t need to remember, because Mandy says: “As much as I’d like to stick around and see how you react after I put your temper over the edge, I have better things to do.”
This statement surprises me. “Wait,” I quickly stop her, struck with curiosity. That must have been her intention though, because when she looks back she has a smug smile accompanying the model-like features of her near-flawless face. “How would you put me ‘over the edge’?” I feel like I have to ask.
And Mandy O’Conner grins a mischievous grin that strongly reminds me of…
“Mandy!”
We both look to see the quickly approaching Kelsey, a look of concern behind her hazel eyes. Mandy sighs, and seems to pout like Kelsey’s ruined her fun; again, reminding me of-
“Leave Evan alone,” Kelsey tells her, taking me a little by surprise when she wraps both of her arms around one of mine, ready to protect me from Mandy O’Conner, “the twins give him enough headache already; they don’t need your help to torture him.”
Mandy rolls her blue eyes sardonically.
Kelsey looks up at me, “Ky sent me to look for you; she heard Mandy was on the loose.” She shoots a look at Mandy on those last three words.
Mandy has pulled out a nail-file out of nowhere; she examines her cuticles with consideration. “How overly protective of the two of you, sending a bodyguard for him,”
Kelsey exhales shortly, holding onto me securely as if Mandy-employed ninjas are going to come out the shadows and try to take me away. “Mandy, if you’re looking for something fun to do, go order around a couple of your cronies or something.”
She makes a tsk sound, and glances briefly up from her nails to look at her. “It’s boring, you know, when the people around you never contradict you,” she tells us. But she walks off anyway.
“It’s boring when the people around you never contradict you”… Is it just me, or did Mandy O’Conner sound almost exactly like Ky Madison throughout that whole exchange?
“Kelsey,” I start; she lets go of me when Mandy is out of sight.
“Yes, Evan?”
“Why are they alike?”
And Kelsey blinks at me in surprise, and then thinks for a second. Finally, she comes up with: “They may not like each other, but growing up they were exposed to each other a lot; so it’s natural for them to pick up some similar personality traits, I think.” She shakes her head, “I’ll go tell Ky you’re coming, okay?” And without waiting for a response, she runs off.
Ky Madison and Mandy O'Conner have similar personality traits? Jeez...I'm living in a world gone mad and I was too out of it to notice.
Bzzz! I hear my phone vibrate; a sign of a text message. Great, it’s probably from Jake; which begs the question: should I answer it or just let it wait?
With a sigh, I dig up my phone and read the screen. Yup, it’s from my brother alright. Might as well read it now… I tap the screen, and it reads in firm, defiant-of-my-earlier-statement text:
It matters to me. I won’t give up.
Won’t.