Clarey
"These are amazing shots, Clarey," squealed one of my best friends, Trish. I was showing her all the photos I took from earlier that morning. I was one of the school's best photographers for the school paper. People enjoyed my work so much, some of the people at school even hired me for their personal events. It was great earning money on the side, especially if it's something you're really passionate about.
We had a pictorial on our cheerleaders' practice session that morning and it just bummed me to death to see all those drop-dead gorgeous cheerleaders of Bonita Verde. Confession incoming. Not long ago, I wanted to be a cheerleader. Unfortunately, it didn't really work out for me. I remembered doing a terrible cart wheel on tryouts. It wasn't a pretty sight trying to impress the captain. I shuddered from the memory. Never again, I reminded myself. That memory deserved to be buried in the fiery pits of hell where it belongs.
"You should definitely run your own business someday," she lightly squeezed my arm in excitement. I glanced at her. "Something to think about."
Scrunching my nose, I lifted some of the pictures up to the light. "You really think so?" I started to rearrange the best photos that I took that morning.
"Yes! Girl, you got the skills," she continued to flip through the pictures. "I have the intuition. I know talent when I see one."
"Hmm, photography's just a hobby of mine. It's nothing serious." I threw a piece of crumpled paper at the nearby trash can. Trish just shook her head with a smile.
"Oh, yeah, have you heard about that new boy?" Trish whispered. Here we go again with Trish and her boys. "He just started today, and OMG, he is one hot tamale!"
A hot tamale? Really? I cocked an eyebrow at her but she continued to bat her lashes at me.
"Oh, don't give me that look." I threw another crumpled piece of paper at the trash can, but this time I missed. She stuck out her tongue and giggled. Trish Graves loves boys, and we all knew that.
"You'll meet him soon, don't worry." She said as she wiggled her bushy eyebrows.
Don't worry, she said. Why would I worry? First off, I don't really care who this guy is.
"Ew, Trish, stop drooling." I teased and started to collect all my photographs on the table, slipping them back in my book binder before Trish drools all over them.
"Hey, I'll see you later. And oh, just give me a call tonight, okay?" I gave a small wave at Trish and closed the door slowly behind me. As I turned around, I plowed directly into a tall dark-haired boy.
Whoops!
"Sorry, sorry, sorry, I am so sorry!" I apologized nonstop while picking up my stuff. The boy started to help me pick up the scattered photographs on the floor.
Oh, crud.
As I stood up, my eyes surprisingly locked in on two familiar green eyes. Eyes I couldn't seem to forget after all these years. I swallowed nervously. How could I forget? He was the worst thing that ever happened to me!
The devil himself.
Evan James von Detten.
"Wait a sec," he said, pointing his index finger at me. "I know who you are."
Please, do not remember me. Please do not remember me.
I chanted in my head like a stupid idiot. If he ever did recognize me, I must blame it on the stupid dark gray ball cap that I was wearing the opposite way, not to mention my loose white shirt, plus my ripped denim jeans.
A dead giveaway. Just freaking great.
"CJ?" He said a little hesitantly. He was scanning my whole appearance like he was verifying if I was that tomboy they used to tease all the time back when we were kids. The little girl who only had a simple goal of meeting new friends and nothing more.
Wonderful, he remembered me.
"Sorry, I don't know who you are talking about." I said firmly, snatching the photograph from his hand. It's best to avoid him at all costs.
I brushed past him, walking away as fast as I could. However, he managed to catch up with me, his black backpack slinged in one shoulder. A lock of his dark brown wavy hair just covered a bit of his eyes.
"I can't believe it. CJ, it really is you!" He snickered, brushing his fingers through his hair. My jaw dropped. He thinks it is so damn amusing. "How are you doing? How's life?"
I glared suspiciously at him. He's asking me how I was doing. Like, why does he even care? It's not like we were so close. I swear, if I was a fire breathing dragon, I would have charred him to death by now. It has been a long time since I've heard him say that. Just as things were about to go downhill, the next person that appeared next to him was Lance freaking Milliken.
Stick a fork in me, I'm done. My life is officially ruined. Why, oh why do bad things happen to good people?
Lance moved to another school shortly after Evan left the country. Compared to when we were kids, Lance is now a six-foot-tall guy. He even lost a lot of weight. His plump tomato sized red cheeks were no longer there and was replaced with chiseled cheekbones and a strong jawline.
"Why, Lance, you're pretty much the same ol' prankster you always were, or should I say, the same ol' jerk you always were." I said coolly, trying to look like I wasn't bothered at all.
"Well, yeah," he snorted, confidence dripping in every part of his body. "You missed me? Or did you miss my boy, Evan?" He threw his arm over Evan's shoulder.
I shook my head before turning around. "Why, am I not surprised?"
"CJ, the tomboy," Evan mentioned that nickname again. "It really is you."
"Will you please shut the hell up?" I snapped, looking up at him. He was about a few inches taller than me. And yes, he was such a handsome guy alright but he's such an egotistical fiend, for crying out loud. "Stop calling me that. It's not funny. The name's Clarissa Johnson, okay? And if you want it shorter, it's Clarey!" I gripped my binder tightly and scurried away from him.
My eyes were now fully brimmed with tears. I bit my lip hard and snuck into the girl's restroom. I slammed my backpack hard on the floor. Leaning against the sink, I stared at myself at the mirror. Tears started to stream down my cheeks. I took my ball cap off slowly and stared at it. Tiny tear drops fell on the cap. I squeezed it. Memories of the past flooded my mind once again.
Evan's voice was echoing through my mind. The young Evan. The Evan that I hated. Now that he's back, I'll be hating him forever since he'll be making my life a living hell. Add Lance to the mix, and it's a party.
"Give it back, Evan!" I cried. I saw my ten-year-old self trying to retrieve something from Evan. A ball. We were in the middle of the court playing basketball. He was running around in circles and I was running after him to get it. The other kids as well as the teacher were far away from us.
"You want it? Come and get it!" He threw the ball at Lance. God, he was such a little devil. He reminded me of that annoying character from one of my favorite Holiday movies. He was like that, except you must multiply it by ten and he's your worst nightmare.
"I said stop! Give it back!" I shrieked. Lance and Evan started to run towards the field and I ran after them. We were in the middle of the damp field now. Lance stopped and held the ball in his hands, his eyes squinting from the sun. He waited until I had finally caught up with him. He grinned. I stood there waiting for him to give the ball back.
"Catch!" Lance threw the ball at me.
Before I could catch it, I lost my balance and fell back into the muddy grass. A knot of anger swelled through my throat.
"Laaaaaaance!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "I hate you!"
No one could really hear us since we have already wandered off into the middle of the field. He just stood in front of me, laughing his ass off like there's no tomorrow. I noticed Evan wasn't laughing anymore. He was just standing silently next to Lance.
"Do yourself a favor and stop acting like a little girl, CJ," Lance pulled his shirt up to wipe his forehead. "You want to be one of the boys, well then act like one because boys don't cry!" Lance shook his head and trudged back to the court. Evan stayed at his spot for a while. He was just standing there like an idiot, unable to say anything at all. I heard Lance call out Evan's name and he started to run back. They left me there, all muddy and wet. All alone. I started to cry. As if the weather knew what I was feeling, rain started to pour.
"You okay, chica?" My friend, Sofie, appeared next to me, interrupting my reverie. She pulled me in for a hug as soon as she saw my cheeks drenched in tears.
"Yeah, I'm good," I smiled, wiping my tears away. "Just remembered something sad all of a sudden."
"You don't seem good to me," she ran a hand down my back. "Come on. Spill. Tell me what happened."
And so, I did. My life was turned upside down the moment I met Evan and Lance back in elementary. They both left and I gained back my good life. Now senior year is here, and they're both back from whatever hell they came from. Surely my life is on the verge of destruction. Wow. What have I ever done to deserve this?
Oh, Evan James von Detten.
Two can play at this game.