"Even she: Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every man's Hero."
-Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
John
He watched his plans fall apart from across the cafeteria. Damn. Ah, well. It had been a lame-ass idea from the get-go. His stomach churned acid as he watched Cam and Hope talking and flirting. Such an asshole. He turned his back on the group before he puked all over the place.
"Looks like your plan didn't work too well." Brad stuffed an enormous amount of pizza in his mouth and laughed, spewing bits of food.
"Shut up, Brad. And close your mouth. God, you're disgusting!" He shoved his own tray away, his appetite ruined.
Connie reached her hand to cover his. "Hey. Don't worry. It's no big deal. We'll think of something else."
He was irritated by her, but didn't want to piss her off. She had a nasty habit of cutting him off when she was mad at him and he had needs, like any other guy. It frustrated him that she had that small amount of power over him, but not frustrated enough to stop trying to get it whenever he could. He wasn't about to shoot himself in the...foot. "Well, I'm open to ideas."
"Hmm. Maybe we need to go after Hope this time." Connie sneered at the group across the cafeteria before turning back to John. "She's such a little goody-goody! I'd love to see her taken down a notch or two."
Brad laughed again, swallowed, and wiped his face with a rough paper napkin. "I've got an idea."
"Spill," John ordered.
"Look over there at Meg." He gestured across the room to where Trissa and Hope's friend sat with some students. "She's kind of in to me. We hooked up after the dance and had a pretty good time."
"So? Why should I be interested in who you're screwing?" John sneered at his friend. Meg wasn't exactly a tough nut to crack; he'd hooked up with her himself more than once.
"Work with me, John. Notice how Meg and Hope have similar hair?"
John saw that they indeed both had dark, nearly black hair of a similar length. "Yeah, so?"
"What if we make Cam think his precious little Hope is screwing around on the side? I don't think he'd like that. Do you?"
"How would you pull that off?"
"I'm thinking a little sex tape would do the trick. Connie's a wiz with Photoshop and video editing. If I get you some raw footage, could you superimpose Hope's face over Meg's? Can you make it look believable?"
Connie smiled, but not in a nice way. "Faces are tricky. I think we can find a way to make it believable, make Cam think it's Hope, without her face, especially with a cell phone quality video. Let me think about it for a while, okay?"
"You do that." John smiled for the first time all day. "Let me know when the clip is ready."
***
Ben
He was running late for lunch, of all things, and hoped the food line was still open. If not, maybe he could sweet talk the cafeteria lady into making him a sandwich. His math teacher had kept him after class to talk about a recent quiz he'd bombed. He hadn't done well in math since Trissa dumped him; she was a math wiz and used to help him with his homework. She had a way of explaining things that made sense to him. She was also great at talking him down from anxiety and frustration. Homework was a much more painful process without her.
He passed the office and stopped short when he heard his name. He peeked around the corner into the hallway in front of the administrative offices and saw Peter, Cam, and Dr. Daniels huddled together in what looked to be a secret conversation. Well, when you hear your name, you have to eavesdrop. That's just how it is. He crept closer, listening hard and making sure he stayed hidden.
"I know, but that's what I heard. Hope told me and she should know." The speaker was Cam.
"She actually said Trissa still likes Ben?" Peter asked.
"No. Loves. She loves Ben. That's what she said."
"And I found this laying around the house." Dr. Daniels was obviously showing them something written on paper, judging by the rattling sound.
"Mrs. Benedict Bryant? Girls really do that? Huh." Cam sounded baffled.
Ben dared to peek around the corner, anxious to see the note.
"Give me that." Peter ripped the paper from Cam's hand. "Look: she drew little hearts around his name. I think I'm gonna puke."
"Should we tell him?" This from Cam.
"I don't like to involve myself in a student's personal affairs, even if she is my niece," Dr. Daniels stated.
Hah! He always had up to this point, and Ben didn't see that changing any time soon.
"He swears he's moved on to greener pastures. We should probably let it be. They're just not destined to be together." Peter gave a huge sigh. "Oh, well. It's sad, but what can we do?"
"Indeed, Mr. Arragon, indeed. Well, you boys should get to lunch before they close the line."
He heard the sound of paper crumpling, and saw Peter toss something into the trash.
Ben realized they would certainly see him when they came into the hallway, so he nearly tripped himself trying to backtrack into a dark classroom alcove. Once they'd gone by, he walked into the hallway, going the complete opposite direction of the cafeteria, lunch now the furthest thing from his mind. He made a quick dart to the trash can to retrieve the paper Peter had thrown away, smoothing it out against the wall.
It did look like her handwriting, and sure enough, there were little hearts drawn around the edge.
Was it possible? Did Trissa still like him. Cam said love. Might she still even love him? He didn't know what to make of the information and would have doubted the truth of it if it had been only Peter and Cam he overheard. But surely Dr. Daniels wouldn't lie about something like this? Principals wouldn't do that, would they? And wasn't this note proof?
But what to do about it? He was still mad at her, furious with the way she'd been treating him lately. But then he thought about all the years they'd been together. They were good together and she'd never been mean before. Maybe she wouldn't be mean anymore if they got back together. He realized he did want to get back together with her. He still loved her and couldn't imagine being with anyone else. The date Friday with Amber had felt all wrong. She smelled wrong. She felt wrong in his arms. He'd had absolutely no desire to kiss her or even hold her hand. And they'd had nothing to talk about. He and Trissa had never run out of things to talk about.
In a sentimental gesture that surprised him a little, he carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his backpack.
He spent the rest of the lunch period wandering aimlessly around the practice field, trying to figure out what to do with the new information he possessed.
"I was sent to find you." Trissa appeared at the top of the stone and concrete bleachers. The high school was built on a hill and the bleachers cascaded down to meet the football field at the bottom.
He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled involuntarily; even angry she was beautiful. He jogged the short distance to the bleachers and began climbing. She stood near the top, arms crossed and hip cocked at an angle that clearly expressed her irritation. "Trissa. Hey." He struggled to not breathe hard, hoping to impress her with his athleticism.
"Whatever. Do you want lunch or not?"
"Huh?" He'd forgotten about eating.
"Do. You. Want. Lunch? I brought you a sandwich. Here" She held out the brown bag between two fingers.
"You brought me lunch? That was sweet of you." He gave her what he hoped was a charming, disarming smile. The kind of smile that used to melt her.
"It wasn't my idea. Uncle Leon said you didn't get any, so he sent me to find you."
So, the smile apparently didn't work. "You look really great today, Trissa. Is that a new shirt?" He realized he was staring at her chest, so he glanced down. It didn't help because she was wearing a short little skirt with cowboy boots. Oh, God, her legs went on for miles; smooth, golden miles. He held in the groan and wrenched his eyes back to her face. That was a big mistake.
Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and her lip was curled in disdain. "If you don't want it, I'll just throw it away." But instead of tossing it in the trashcan next to her, she lobbed it toward Ben. "Eat fast. The bell's about to ring." She spun quickly, granting him a tantalizing glimpse of golden thigh as her skirt flipped up slightly.
He chuckled and sat on the top row of bleachers to eat the sandwich. So, she cared enough to bring him lunch. He'd be willing to bet the bit about Dr. Daniels sending it was a lie. He thought back over everything she'd said and came to the conclusion that she must still love him! Now, how could he get her back?
***
Trissa
Ugh! He was so frustrating! Trissa stomped away from the bleachers and Ben, unreasonably irritated. Uncle Leon had stopped her as she was leaving the cafeteria and asked her to take a sack lunch to Ben, who had missed lunch for some dumb ass reason. She'd thought about his stupid stunt at the dance all weekend and was still livid about it. How dare he try to trick her! How stupid did he think she was? She'd dated him for three years and kissed him thousands of times. How could she not recognize his bright green eyes and his full, soft lips, not to mention the shirt she'd bought him and the cologne she'd helped him pick out? She loved the way he smelled. And what about his hair? Nobody else had that exact color of brown-bronze that she loved running her fingers through. Stop! Stop thinking about him like that! You wanted to be a strong, independent woman and he was getting in the way. You made your bed, so you can damn well lie in it! Her momentary lapse made her angry with herself, which was ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to get over it. It's so hard when I have to see him every day. It'll be better when this year is finally over and I move to Rhode Island. Of course, that wasn't a sure thing yet, but she'd scored well enough on her SATs to qualify and she would work really hard on her essays. That plus an excellent record of extra-curricular activities would hopefully get her accepted to Brown. Please God.
She had just enough time to duck into the ladies room before fifth period. Her hand was on the stall latch when the bathroom door opened and a couple of girls entered.
"That's what I heard, anyway."
"Are you sure they were talking about Ben?"
Trissa's hand froze on the latch. Seriously? Hearing secrets in the bathroom is getting to be a bad habit with me. She recognized the voices of Hope and Meg instantly. Trissa knew she should simply make her presence known. That's why she decided to stay where she was for the moment and peek through the crack between the stall door and frame. Whatever.
"Positive. Cam told me and he said Peter told him, and they're best friends so he should know."
Trissa tried to follow Hope's logic, but found herself floundering.
"Yeah, he would know. And he actually said Ben still likes Trissa? Even after she dumped his ass? That was so brutal!" Meg's last words were distorted as she leaned forward to apply lip gloss.
"I know! I feel so bad for Ben. He's such a nice guy. But Cam said that Peter said that Ben still loves her. Loves. Poor guy."
"Do you think we should tell her?" Meg pulled a brush through her long black hair.
"I don't think so. She's moved on and he will eventually. Maybe we could find someone new for him. I hate to see him so miserable, don't you?"
Meg finished adjusting the neckline of her blouse down as far as it could possibly go. "Who knows? Maybe I'll take him."
Trissa bristled at her words. Over my dead body! Then she remembered it really wasn't her business any more.
"I didn't know you like liked Ben." Hope turned to her friend, wide-eyed.
"Jesus, Hope! This isn't middle school. I don't like like him, but he's totally hot! I bet he's great in bed. Sometimes, that's more than enough."
Trissa kept herself from charging out of her stall only by extreme self-control. If she got her hands on Meg right now, she'd probably choke the life out of her friend. Former friend.
"Oh!" Hope's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head. "But he's never...I mean, he and Trissa didn't—"
"Oh, my God! Do not tell me Ben Bryant is a virgin! Oh my God!"
Why did Trissa ever confide that particular bit of information to her cousin? Oh yeah, because she was trying to impart that couples in high school didn't necessarily have to sleep together. Apparently this was her reward for trying to set a good example. Never. Again.
"Please don't tell him I told you! Oh, I'm sure he doesn't want anyone to know! Please, Meg?"
"Don't worry." Trissa didn't like the calculating smile on Meg's face. "His little secret is safe with me. He won't have to worry about it for long if I have anything to say about it. Now, what about you and the delicious Cameron?"
"What about us?" Hope gulped audibly.
"How is it going with him? He's your first boyfriend, isn't he?"
"Yeah?" Hope made it more of a question than a statement.
"Well? Any action yet?"
"Action?"
"Yeah, action. I'm not talking about a shitty Michael Bay movie, either. I mean action. Has he been giving you any special effects explosions, if you know what I mean?"
Trissa definitely needed to limit Hope's time with Meg. She was not the kind of role model her young cousin needed at this point in her life.
"No, of course not! I mean, he's kissed me—"
"French or regular?"
Hope blushed hotly and Trissa could tell she was extremely uncomfortable. "Um, regular, I guess."
"Oh, Hope, Hope. I can see you have lots to learn." Meg ushered her out of the bathroom as she spoke, and Trissa couldn't hear anything else.
She was finally able to exit the stall and ended up late to fifth period. She was distracted during class, unable to forget what she'd overheard in the bathroom. Was it possible Ben still loved her? She'd been so awful to him; how could he still love her? But Hope wouldn't lie. She'd bet her life on it. If it wasn't true, it must be because Hope had heard it wrong. But if Trissa followed her loopy logic, Cam had heard it straight from Peter, Ben's best friend. Maybe it was true. Trissa gasped softly at the thought. She hadn't been able to turn off her feelings as easily as she'd hoped; every time she saw him it all came rushing back. Love wouldn't be silenced, apparently. Trissa sank her head onto her desk and groaned. And now it looked like she might have to fight her best friend for him. Great. She had a hard time believing Meg would really make a move of any kind on Ben since she knew Trissa still had feelings for him, but she couldn't be absolutely sure. She would keep a sharp eye out for any hints of a relationship between the two of them.
"Yes, Miss Baker? Do you have something you'd like to share with the class?" Mr. Antonio, her calculus teacher, stopped his lesson and turned from the whiteboard.
She sat up and looked around. "No. Sorry. I'm not, um, feeling very well."
"Do you need to go to the nurse?"
"No, sir. I'll be fine." She sat up and did her best to re-focus on the equations at the front of the room. She let the clear-cut beauty of math push all life complications out of her mind and center her to clarity. Numbers were straightforward: you only had right answers and wrong answers- there was no in-between. It was a welcome escape from the compounding grey areas of life.
Maybe she could approach this whole 'Ben' situation with a mathematical mindset: she could look at the available information. What did she know? What were the givens, and what proofs could she build based the knowns. Then those tricky little variables might just work themselves out. It was worth a try; stick with your strengths, right? What she needed more than anything was some time alone to process everything.
***
Peter
He had no idea if their ploy had worked, but when he entered the locker room after school the next day, he suspected it had. He nudged Cam and jerked his chin toward where Ben was standing.
"Nice haircut, dude. Hot date tonight?" He barely managed to hold back a snicker when Ben slammed his locker shut. Peter caught a glimpse of a photo of Trissa, which Ben had apparently never removed from his locker.
"Nah. Just hadn't had one in a while." Ben ran his hands through his newly trimmed hair. It was still really soft, the way it always was after a trip to the barbershop. "Figured it was time. Mom was going to start bugging me about it anyway; this was to preempt her nagging."
"And you shaved, too?" Peter had teased Ben about the scruffy beard he'd sported since school started, but he'd been secretly jealous of it. He couldn't grow a decent scruff; his just made his face look dirty.
"Uh, yeah. It was bugging me. Itchy, you know?"
"I remember Trissa saying she hated it," Cam mused.
"She did? Huh. I don't, uh, remember that."
Peter and Cam laughed as Ben turned away abruptly. "Did you leave any cologne for the rest of us?" Peter waved his hand in front of his face. "Phew! You should not take those body spray commercials too seriously, bro. More body spray does not mean that women will flock to you uncontrollably in a proportionate relationship to how much you've used."
"Shut up," Ben muttered as he let his towel drop and began pulling on his clothes. "I gotta go. I'm late for work. I'll see you two idiots later." He grabbed his clothes and started to make his exit.
Peter's taunts followed him on his way out. "This is the kind of environmental harm Al Gore was trying to warn us about! Your body spray hole in the ozone is killing polar bears, Ben! Innocent polar bears!"
Peter and Cam collapsed on the bench in helpless laughter. "Did you see his face? Oh, my God, it was priceless!"
"I'd say our plan worked, at least with him," Cam said, wiping tears from his eyes. "That was freaking amazing!"
"Am I interrupting?" John appeared suddenly, like some sort of creepy summoned ghoul; except, no one in his right mind would ever summon this particular little gremlin.
Peter jumped slightly, startled by his stepbrother's intrusion. "What do you want?"
"Not much." He shrugged. "I just thought I'd stop by and congratulate Cam. I didn't think you had it in you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Cam stood and crossed his arms.
"The video, dude. It was...impressive."
Peter stood as his stomach clenched into knots. He didn't know what John was up to, but it probably wasn't good. Pretty much nothing about this guy was good. "What video?"
John reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "You guys are hilarious. I'm talking about the sex tape Cam sent out. Total celebrity move, man. Here." He handed the phone to Peter.
He and Cam leaned over the screen and watched as a couple, faces outside the frame, went at it. The girl was seated on the guys' lap, wearing a cheer leading uniform, her long, black ponytail hanging down her back. The video quality was terrible and the camera extremely unsteady, but it certainly looked like Hope. On screen, the guy unzipped her cheerleading shell and slipped it off one shoulder, exposing one of her breasts. The girl's hand grabbed his guiding it to her chest, and her bracelet came into view.
"Isn't that the bracelet you bought for Hope for her birthday? My God, Cam! You taped you and Hope—" Peter turned to his friend, shocked.
"No! I never! We never—fuck!" Cam yelled and ran his hands through his hair frantically.
"Yeah, for everyone to see," John said with a smirk.
"That's not me!" Cam yelled.
"Really? Well, how interesting. I wouldn't have thought little Hope would do something like that with you, much less another guy."
"That's not Hope! It can't be! Not my Hope." Cam was almost whimpering.
"Well, apparently not just your Hope." John's grin was carnivorous. "Taking a move out of the Kardashian book of plays. Maybe she'll start her own line of emojis so we can—"
His words were cut short as Cam hurtled into him like a juggernaut. Peter stood by, still shocked, while Cam got in a few punches. John was too skilled at fighting to let the younger boy get very far and soon had Cam in a choke-hold. Peter stepped in before they attracted the attention of one of the coaches.
"Knock it off, you two! Cam, let it go! We'll figure out what's going on!"
John released him and Cam pulled himself to his feet, wiping his bloody nose on the back of his hand. "It's not true. That sure as hell isn't me, and it, it can't be-her." His last words were tight and strangled as he turned and ran out of the locker room, leaving his belongings behind. He barely made it to a trashcan at the exit before he lost his lunch. When he was done, he weakly stumbled the rest of the way out of the locker room as if in a raging daze.
"Delete that video right now, John. So help me, God, if you send that to anyone I will kill you."
John smirked at him in his insufferable manner, but he showed Peter as he deleted the video. "Satisfied?"
"For now. If I hear that you told anyone..."
John didn't promise, but pocketed his phone and left the locker room. The remnants of the animalistic grin on his face, however, left Peter unsettled.