LEAH AND DELANEY ARE WAITING at the Stereo Shack by the time Drew and I arrive together.
Originally, this Saturday lunch date was supposed to be a girls date between Leah and I, but things have changed ever since the fight went down. Benjamin is invited, too, though I don't know how he will fare with his injuries. He was in and out of the nurse's office before Drew and I even arrived, unhindered by a limp.
"Sophie!" Delaney waves me over to their booth. "We ordered you guys a hot chocolate. Do you like hot chocolate?"
Drew says, "Of course."
"Yes," I smile gratefully. "Thanks."
Drew and I took the bus together, looking much better already. But the battle scars are a long way from healed. Seeing his stitches and raw face makes me want to fuss over him, to make sure he is alright, and indirectly soothe my conscience.
Ms. Stell did warn us that he might need a second stitching if they came out early. The cuts have scabbed over, and are lying on top of a diluted, sickly purple shade. The sallow lilac looks like an infection on Drew's dark skin. The blood-filled hills across his face, thrown up by the impact of Derek's fists, have been pressed down with ice.
He looks happy and any traces of yesterday's pain has vanished. If I only look at his eyes, I won't be able to tell that he has a sprained wrist and bruised ribs and stitches. Doubt claws at my smile, reminding me how much pain getting his stitches put him in. Maybe he's just lying to stop me worrying, like he did for his mother.
I want to get angry all over again, but Drew doesn't need to see any more anguish. He has his own pain to deal with.
Just as we finish our hot chocolates, a silver 1990 Camry pulls up outside. It's the flawless paintwork on an old design that grabs my eye, for some reason. The sun drops over it like a loving hand, and throws itself into my eyes with metallic winks. A boy gets out, slamming the door shut with a chirp of his keys.
Benjamin.
Delaney twists her mouth into a sour pucker as she watches Benjamin, hinting at irritation. Is she mad at him for some reason? I would have thought she'd be grateful to him, for stepping in. Then it occurs to me that she is mad because of that.
I don't need defending. I remember that part.
When Benjamin sits down, I see a flash of irritation across his face when he spots Delaney. I'm confused. For two people who took on the same person yesterday, they are awfully hostile towards each other. It's only thirty minutes later, when the conversation has moved past thanking and checking over the injuries of Benjamin and Drew, that I find out why.
Delaney is one of the smartest people in the school, but she rules only over the domain of English and the Social Sciences. Benjamin is also one of the smartest people in the school, but he rules only over the domain of Mathematics and the Sciences. Between then have been this years-long intellectual rivalry, which will culminate with the announcement of the valedictorian at the end of the year.
It's clear both of them want the trophy.
So, although my newfound friends aren't the chummiest, there seem to be these invisible threads that connect everyone. Those threads are probably hatred, like everyone who has ever felt the Monarchy's hold has a common enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend type situation.
We've subconsciously formed a support group. We instinctively protect and defend each other. An hour after our arrival, the doorbell jingles, interrupting a laugh from me. My eyes slide, simply out of habitual curiosity, to glimpse whoever is coming in.
I frown almost instantly. The sourness must be such a sudden change, that all my friends follow my sight line to whomever is the object of my disapproval.
Derek, Terrence and Reece don't notice us glaring at first, until their eyes fall on us. They tense mid-stride, and draw their feet back to stand against the door. The postures of Drew and Benjamin straighten out, giving away the secret of strong bones under weak flesh. The combative gesture is mirrored in their previous opponents, coiled so tightly that they look about to erupt.
I'll be damned if Reece and Derek decide on a second match here. But neither party seems willing to do anything more than express their bellicosity towards each other.
"Drew," I nudge him, "At least wait till we're out of the café."
When he turns to look at me, all raging impulses and stormy instincts, I have to remind myself that it's not me he's mad at — it's the boys just across from us. That doesn't make his glare any less aggressive.
"Yeah," he sighs. The fight drains out of him like a pulled plug, swirling out of sight.
Benjamin is still engrossed by something behind us, and when I turn to pull him back to us, I see exactly what. Terrence is walking up to us, trailed glumly by Reece, and apathetically by Derek. But when has Derek ever been anything but apathetic?
"Sophie, about yesterday," he begins. I can't believe he has the nerve to look guilty. The rippling of his irises looks like he's being torn apart from the inside, though I don't know by what. Terrence doesn't have the right to regret something he did with careful thought. Je made it very clear which side he supported. "I didn't—"
"I don't want to hear it." My voice is formal as can be. There is no trace of wanting to know him to be heard.
"I don't feel hungry anymore." Leah places the remains of her fruit smoothie back on the table and lifts her tribal-patterned bag from the floor. All my friends are moving to leave, and I go with them.
The one time I look back, I'm startled to see a hint of remorse in Derek and Reece's eyes, too. But again, no-one punches that hard without meaning it. Once we are out of sight of the Stereo Shack, Delaney mutters, "It's disgusting. Brittany just snaps her fingers and they do her bidding."
"Well, better us than you, right?" Drew says.
Delaney scoffs. "No. Not better you than us. I was ready to throw hands. What happened to gender equality? If you're going to defend us, don't do just because we have vaginas—"
I interrupt Delaney's ranting. "Yeah, thanks, you two. But there shouldn't have been a reason in the first place for you guys to defend us. People could have just let us leave. Why didn't they?"
"They're all scared," Benjamin reasons. "If we left, then Brittany picks another target at random." He gestures madly with his hands, before they fall to his sides. The action has a morbid sense of finality to it. Even Delaney allows her voice to soften enough to murmur an agreement.
"Then we just find people who aren't scared."
Delaney's eyes are distant, looking back on a memory. "You don't get it. They're heartless. If anyone, it's the fearless that they'll target. I mean, we have Exhibit A—" She smiles at Drew, then Benjamin. "And Exhibit B."
Leah's voice is quiet, and pained. I barely hear her. "They have the power to turn people against you, despite how much they are hated."
"They decide what's important. It's always their wants that get put first," Benjamin spits.
What is going on here?
"So long as they keep their status and popularity, everything else is collateral damage." Drew makes the final point.
They've given up. Their goal for their last year of high school is to simply keep their heads down and endure. They would rather go through a mountain of suffering than climb over it. That's evident. My heart aches for them.
And I decide I can't do the same thing.
"Then why don't we change it?" They look at me, stunned. Benjamin opens his mouth, about to speak before I cut him off and keep talking. "I mean it. We'll get other people to join. Strength in numbers. We can change things."
"Who would join? It's basically social suicide. Brittany finds out, and everyone who tries to help ends up like Drew."
"As opposed to how they are now," I protest.
If everyone has been employing that method of keeping their heads down and enduring, it clearly hasn't worked. The Monarchy are still as tyrannous as can be.
And I'm not going to spend this year changing parts of myself, faking nice to un-nice people, and biting my tongue just to avoid the Monarchy's wrath. I'm not going to sit where they want me to sit and befriend who they approve and gossip about who they dislike. Rolling over would hurt more than any confrontation.
"I'm in. I was in ever since Brittany started this twisted dictatorship. Sophie and I will do it by ourselves if we have to," Delaney announces, walking to my side. I give her a tight hug and a grateful smile.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Let's kick some ass! Now where's my hug?" Drew shouts, running into Delaney's arms.
I smile fondly at the pair, who high-five, then turn to the remaining two. "Ben? Leah?"
"I suppose there's no harm. My status is as low as you can get, anyway," Benjamin shrugs. "I'll pass on the hug though."
We ignore him and squeeze him into our group hug. A funny-sounding oomph leaves his lungs as Drew nearly tackles him to the floor, before both boys pull back wincing at some injury that they disturbed.
"How is your status low?" I ask, out of pure curiosity.
"Geeks are as low as you can get," Benjamin explains.
"No way." I gape, "Really?"
"It's a wonder what gossip can do," Delaney shrugs.
"Leah? How about you?"
She's the last to join, and shows the most hesitation of us all. "What if we just make things worse?"
"What if we make things better?" Delaney counters.
Drew nods. "Yeah, we have to try."
She's thinking deeply, and whatever is toying with her mind is causing her a lot of conflict.
I don't want her to be pressured into this, so I say, "We have a whole day to hang out. This can be done later."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
After that, we try our very best to forget about the earlier encounter.
The squeeze into Benjamin's car is an uncomfortable one, though thankfully I called shotgun. Benjamin misses the detour for the town square when it comes up. I watch his knowing smile from the driver's seat, and he gives me a wink.
Instead, he takes us to a park where you can take small, painted row boats out on the lake for ten dollars an hour. Haywood Park, if I recall. As predicted, the clouds part for us the second we float out from the lake jetty. I can see dust motes wafting through the air, playing tag with the occasional dragonfly.
After hauling our fleet of two shabby canoes to the lake jetty, Delaney draws up a point chart in the dirt with a stick. "Let's race," she smirks.
One person has to sit out for each round though, to referee and keep the teams even. When I race with Drew — in a rickety red boat with ducks — he keeps rowing anticlockwise. We end up spinning in smooth circles on the leaf-covered lake.
"Drew! What are you doing?" I ask him.
He peers helplessly at me, bringing up his bandaged wrist. "Don't get mad at the handicapped."
I can't stop our predicament. When I try rowing the other way, we end up turning in the other direction.
At this point, Benjamin collapses in laughter on the jetty; he doesn't even need to use his refereeing skills this round. Leah and Delaney boast victorious smirks from the bank, our finish line.
The hour trickles through our fingers like sand, and it feels just a minute later when the owner of the boat stall comes to take the canoes back. Leah volunteers to host a movie marathon at her house, giving Benjamin confused directions from the passenger seat.
"You should have turned here," Leah tells Benjamin, just as we roll past a street.
The brakes clamp down, and I'm almost thrown into the back of the passenger seat. "Shit," Benjamin curses under his breath, reversing enough to drive into the street. "Sorry guys."
Leah's family is bustling around their home when we arrive. Her mother, a Korean woman wearing a green apron, waves us in like she was expecting us. Leah's mother is in the midst of plating up a meal. Good thing she made an excess.
Drew doesn't hesitate to dig in, although we are all warned of the food's dangerous temperature. He scoops three mini sausage rolls into his mouth, which he subsequently spits out into his un-sprained hand.
No-one helps him as he runs around screaming, "Hot! Hot! Water!"
I mean, he was warned.
A flicker of movement at the edge of the doorway draws my eye off the food, to a stick-thin girl. Her eyes sit like onyx jewels in their sockets, waiting to be looked at with a patient modesty. "Is this your sister?" I ask Leah.
She turns away from a conversation with Benjamin, holding a half-bitten cronut. Her eyes widen. "Oh! Guys, this is Faune, my sister. She's a sophomore at Carsonville."
The girl draws back from the door shyly, clutching at her hair, cut short, just shorter than a bob cut, and all messed up. Leah frowns, "You can eat if you want. These guys are big softies."
Faune steps in, and starts piling up on food. Everyone resumes their talking, allowing a comfortable chatter to take the attention off of Faune. I notice her put some of the food back, and settle in with two slices of lamb pizza.
When we are all sat lazily in the lounge, showing off our bulging stomachs, Leah peers at a collection of DVDs arrayed under her TV. "DC or Marvel?"
Screams for Marvel come loudly, before Leah laughs. "Okay, decided."
Quite a few hours later, I am draped over the couch, legs entangled with Benjamin's. We're watching the end credits of a movie run away from our blurry eyes. Leah and Delaney are lying on their stomachs on the carpet, giggling amongst themselves, legs occasionally swinging up to block our view.
I feel like I've laughed and talked off all of the food I ate, and have again returned to my philosophy of never being able to eat enough food.
There's no obligation to do anything with these people, act a certain way or sit in a certain position. Benjamin and I haven't talked since The Winter Soldier played, enveloped by a silent peace. Such a different scene than that of this morning's standoff.
Just before I leave Leah's house, she pulls me aside.
"Okay, Sophie. I'll try your crazy plan. Fingers crossed it works."