Rule #8: Impatience is Key
Rebels wait for nobody.
-()-
The door across the gym slams open. My head jerks up of its own accord, just in time to see a bunch of shirtless boys parade across to the locker room. Most of them carry towels around their necks and smell like chlorine. Must be the swim team.
Unpleasant memories threaten to break through. I push them away and lean back against the wall.
Right now, I'm waiting for Melody to come out of women's locker room, after her cheerleading auditions, since she made me promise that I wouldn't go inside and talk to her. Now, it's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't come out.
My phone pings.
I check it. It's a text from Irene, my best friend from Chicago. My mood lightens even though she's only written three words: skype at 5?
In the distance, the men's locker door swings open.
Can we do 7? I have work at 5, I type back. The pair of boys who exited the locker room walk closer to me. To my dissatisfaction, one of them pauses besides where I'm standing. I pray to everything holy than he's won't to talk to me.
"Hey there, cutie, where'd you come from? I don't recall see somebody as good-looking as you in this gym," He says.
I ignore him. Irene texts back, K.
"Hey, did you hear me? I'm talking to you, cutie in the tight shirts," He steps closer. I type go away multiple times on my phone and continue to ignore him.
"Dude, what are you doing? Let's just go-"
"Just go ahead, Lex, I'll be with you in a minute."
Whoever Lex is, I hope he doesn't listen. But the only thing he does is heave a sigh and leave. My heart sinks when I hear the gym door open and close again. If Melody doesn't come out in two minutes, I tell myself. I'm leaving.
"What do you want?" I snap when his friend is no longer in sight.
Now that I acknowledge, I get a glimpse of what he looks. Since he's not wearing a shirt, I can tell that he's somewhat muscular, with curly brown hair and tanned skin, but I can get a sense of how pale he really is. "I was just trying to compliment you, that's all."
"I'm blushing," I deadpan. "But, if you really want to please me, follow your friend out the door."
He smiles condescendingly. Just when I think he's about to say something else, one of the locker room doors opens again. This time a group of boys walks outside, including Archer and Sebastian. Even though, I can't stand the two, the sight of them makes my shoulders slump in relief.
Archer does a double-take when he sees me. "Peyton?"
"Archer," I say coolly, fighting the urge to blush.
Today, for advertisement, all the clubs are making booths in the school's auditorium. Per mom's wishes, I need to have to join one of them. But I can't create a good reputation with the usual clothes I wear so I traded in my black pants and leather jacket for jeans and a white blouse.
"Do you know Derek?" Archer asks, his lip curling down.
I shake my head.
"So, he's bothering you?" He says coldly, but he's not looking at me anymore. Instead, he glares at Derek, who sneers at him.
"I'm not bothering anybody, Raine. Why don't you mind your own business?"
"Only when you mind yours."
Derek scoffs and shoves past Archer, glaring at me when he passes. "Whatever, dude, have fun with the crazy chick. You're both insane."
I roll my eyes.
Archer scowls at the gym door where Derek, or whatever, just left. Unlike the others, Archer has a put a shirt on, even though it's not his usual button-up kind. Instead, it's a simple gray shirt, which is wet around the edges. His eyes have dark circles under them.
"What are you doing here anyways?" Archer sighs.
"Waiting for Melody."
"Melody left with a few of her friends a couple of minutes ago," He watches me carefully. "They stopped by the pool before they left."
I stare at him for a moment. "Really."
"Really," And his lip twitches. "I think she went to go check out the clubs.
"I know. We were supposed to go together."
With jagged movements, I seize my backpack and slug it onto my shoulders. Ten minutes for waiting for nothing. What an idiot. The auditorium must be packed by now. I take out my phone, ready to give Melody a full-length text message on how much of a brat she is.
Then, to my horror, Archer catches up to me, waving good-bye to Sebastian and his friends. Sebastian has an annoyed expression on his face, probably because of me. I put my phone in my back pocket.
"So, are you going to join a club?" He asks, quickening his pace to match mine.
"Obviously."
"What club?"
"Junior Wildlife Rescue."
"What's that?"
"It's a sort of animal rescue group, but for teenagers," At his confused look, my heart sinks. "Don't tell me that this school doesn't offer it?"
"It might. But I've never heard of it."
I scrunch up my nose. "Right, because why have a club educating people on the importance of endangered species when you can have something shallow as - as-"
"Swim team?" His eyes twinkle. There's more energy in Archer's step now
"I didn't say that." Even though it's probably true.
"Melody tells me that you were on the swim team."
My mouth suddenly feels dry. "Yeah. I was."
"Are you going to try to join again?"
The memories start to flood in, cold and suffocating. I remember the stares, that once made me proud, and how they turned cold so quickly. The names of my old friends Gwen, Xavier, Alyssa flash in my mind. The swim team is where I met them all, my best friends and my worst enemies.
Needless to say, I quit after one year.
Joining the swim team was the second worst decision in my life.
"Probably not."
We enter the auditorium. Some people glance up when we enter. Their gazes first turn to Archer, but lock in once they notice me. Some boys in a red and white colored booth watch us. I cross my arms uncomfortably. Archer barely seems to notice.
All of a sudden, a girl apporaches us - or rather, Archer. She glances at me once, puckers her lips and turns to Archer so that her back is facing me. "Hey, Archie, I thought you weren't joining any other clubs this year!"
"I'm not," For some reason, Archer seems wary. "I'm just - looking."
She laughs. Her glance flitters from me to him. "Well, Alexandra, TJ and I are all hanging out at the Red Cross. You should come and look around there."
"Actually, I'm with-"
"It's fine," I interrupt. "I think I see Melody over there. You have fun with your friends."
Archer and the girl both watch me as I wave awkwardly and jog away as fast as I can. I curve through people, making sure to get lost in the crowd. When I turn back, neither of them are in sight. With a sigh of relief, I turn back to the booths.
Now, I think to myself. How the hell do I get rid of him peremenately?
Peyton's List of Ways to Get Rid of Archer Raine
1) A simple leave me the fuck alone could do. But Melody and mom would kill me.
2) Run away every time I spot him. Now, it'd be too suspicious. And it's too unreliable. What if I'm in the middle of the hallway or in front of mom? I can't run away then. She'd kill me. And so would Melody.
3) Pretend I have a contagious disease. It's nice, subtle and won't hurt his feelings. But, what if he sees this as an excuse to help me or something? Too risky.
4) Pretend I've gone deaf. And blind. Is this really the best I can come with?
5) Try my best to ignore him every time he approaches me. This is the tactic I've been using so far, yet it doesn't seem very effective.
Forget it.
Maybe I'll ask Jake and Irene later.
Meanwhile, I inspect each of the booths in the auditorium. So far, none of them has been worthy enough to get my attention. The only one that perked a slight interest in me is National Women's Honor Society, but there's a huge crowd surrounding it, so I don't dare approach them.
Then, I spot Melody, signing up for something at a Fashion with a bunch of her cheerleading friends. I think to myself, this is my chance, and then, I push in her into the booth.
With a shriek, she crashes into the table, making a bunch of glittering flyers flutter off in to every direction. Then, she slumps to the floor and knocks the table over. Her friends and the person behind the booth run to her in order to help. From this distance, Melody catches my her.
She scowls.
I smirk at her over my shoulder and turn back to the booth in front of me.
It's all blue and white, with a large sparkling banner on top that reads Prom Committee. The sign-up sheets seems pretty full. Behind the booth stands a girl with a huge smile and black suit. She hands me a light blue flyer.
"Hello, fellow student! My name is Rocky Junior and I'm the president of Prom Committee!" She has a thick southern accent. "Would you like to join? There's no payment involved."
Startled, I flip over the flyer and pretend to examine it. We never had Prom Committee in my old school - student leadership took over instead - so this is completely new to me. I scan the details. It requires no team work, no speeches and no uniforms. Still, it seems like the last thing that somebody like me would want to do.
And that's exactly why I want to do it.
There's nothing better than going against the norm, right? Imagine their faces when I show up to the meetings in all black.
I smile. "Sure."
"Great!" She beams at me. "Can I have your name, please, beautiful?"
"Oh. Peyton. Peyton Monroe."
"Thank you," She scribbles down something on her clipboard. "Can I see you this Thursday, on our first meeting? It will have all the new information for beginners such as yourself!"
"Uh, sure."
"Great, I'll see you there. Bye!"
"Bye."
She waves. With a tight smile, I wave back. A shiver runs down my spine. Cheery people like that give me the creeps. She reminds me too much of Gwen. Once I'm outside of the auditorium, I scrunch the flyer into a paper ball and fling it into a trash can.
I check my phone.
It's almost time for me to begin my first day of work.
It takes me five minutes to get to my locker, another one to get my skateboard and fifteen more minutes for me to reach my destination. I'm only two minutes late by now.
Lily's Pet House is only one of many stores in the square. There's a daycare center, a dollar store, a Thai food restaurant and most surprisingly, a tattoo parlor. Also, there are plenty of bushes for me to hide my skateboard in. After examining the place, I enter the Pet House.
Besides the animals, the store is mostly empty. Most of the birds chirp in my presence and some of the smaller animals, like hamsters and rabbits turn theirs to check me out, then turn back to whatever they're doing.
The fish, obviously, don't do anything at all.
A chorus of barking leads me to the back of the store.
A man with glasses stands at the edge of one of the wide open cages, shoveling dog food into a bowl. The cage has only one puppy - a golden retriever, Jesse, his nameplate reads. The man stands once he notices me.
"Oh, hey." He stands up. "You must be Peyton Monroe. I'm Peter, the manager. Your other coworker is sick today, so I'm filling in."
"Oh," I clear my throat. "It's nice it meet you."
He hums in response. "Listen, not to offend you or anything, but I don't really do small talk. I rather just get started."
"That's fine." I like him already.
"Good. What types of chores did you do back in Chicago?"
"All sorts of things. I mostly - uh - did things with animals."
"Which animals?"
"Uh," I scan the store. It's way smaller than the one I worked in during my stay at Chicago. "All of them, I think, except the special-need ones."
"That's good. But I'm not going to let you start with the animals yet. Are you up for some basic chores, like mopping and dusting?"
I shrug. "Sure."
"Okay. There are some supplies in the back room. Mop the floor and clean the fish tanks. Your sign-up sheet is in the third drawer on the counter and I'll have your salary and uniform on Friday. If you have any questions, come and see me in my office." After his little speech, Peter turns around and heads towards the back.
"Wait! I had a question."
He turns around, barely hiding his annoyance. "Yeah?"
"Okay - uh, say somebody found a stray animal. Is it possible that they could bring it here?"
"Maybe for safekeeping, but not peremenately," Peter's eyes narrow. "Why?"
"Just curious. I'll just go get my supplies now. Bye!"
Ignoring his piercing gaze, I head towards the back of the shop to get the mop and bucket.
-()-
"Just stab him."
"Very funny, Irene," I say, rolling my eyes.
"What's so funny? I think stabbing him is a great way to get him off your back," Irene, my best friend from Chicago, muses. Her eyes are bright and brown as she watches me. "I mean, I know I wouldn't want to hang out with somebody who stabbed me."
"That's not the problem."
" Why not? Don't you have a knife or something?"
"No, but that's not-"
"Hang on, I thought I gave you some for your better. Did you lost it already? Oh, whatever. I think still I have two of them somewhere..." Irene stands up to go search of her knives.
"Irene, listen-"
"Damn, I think Andrew's borrowing them for something," She sits down again. "Maybe you can grab a fork or something from the kitchen-"
"Irene."
"Oh, sorry, I'm rambling again. Okay. I'm listening."
"It's not that I can't stab Archer. It's just that I don't want to."
"What?" She seems alarmed. "Why not? I thought you wanted to - oh, hold a second. It's Jake. Jake, babe, come here! I'm talking to Peyton."
Jake, Irene's boyfriend, sits on Irene's chair so that they're both squished. Irene seems more comfortable than amused when she smacks his head. Jake grins at me through the camera.
"Hey Peyton."
"Hi Jake."
"So, what's going on?"
"We're trying to bounce of ideas on how to keep Archer away from her," Irene explains.
"Your neighbor?"
I nod.
"Oh," He hums and drums his finger on Irene's knee. She seems much more comfortable now. "What have you guys come up with so far?"
"I suggested stabbing him."
Jake doesn't seem surprised. "Sounds reasonable."
"No. It. Doesn't. Do you know how much trouble I would get into?"
"We aren't asking you to run to his house and kill him in front of his family. Just do it subtly."
"Subtly."
"Yeah. Just go to his house for, like, dinner or something. Then, when eating, take out your knife. When nobody's looking, jab it into the nearest body part you can find. When he accuses you, pretend that your fork slipped. This way you won't get in trouble and he'll think you're insane."
I consider this for a moment. "I still don't know if I hate him that much."
"Eh. Your choice."
"I-" Just when I'm about to avoid the question, I spot something at the window. A cat, black with yellow eyes, sits at the edge of our porch, eerily still. "I have to go. I'll text you guys later. Bye!"
Before they can protest, I slam the laptop shut. Without any other assistance, I grab my coat and sprint downstairs. Mom calls after me, but I'm already outside. The cat tenses when she spots me, making me freeze in place.
"Hello, mysterious cat," My voice is impossibly soft.. "My name is Peyton. I'm here to help you."
Unsurprisingly, the cat doesn't respond. I'm too scared to frighten her, so I stay still. We watch each other for a few minutes. Meanwhile, I try to think of the names I've come up with. There's Midnight, Cat, Night, Sky, Lucky, and Ink.
The more I look like it. The more it seems like Lucky. I mean, she would be dead if I hadn't happened to meet her on my first day here, right? And what better neighborhood to stumble upon than this one? Plus, I like the irony since she's a black cat and black cats aren't supposed to be lucky.
Together, we can both defy expectations.
"Can I call you Lucky?" I whisper, after I finish my thoughts. The cat peers at me curiously, sitting on the edge, eerily still. She makes some sort of rumbling noise, which I think can pass for a purr, from the bottom of a stomach.
"I'll take that as yes. So, if you want, I have-"
A door swinging open cuts my words. Lucky growls at somebody behind me and leaps into the bushes in the blink of an eye. Unable to do anything but reach my hands out blindly, I stare at the empty space where she once was.
"Mom's calling you," Melody sneers. "Probably to tell you what a selfish brat you've been being lately."
One of my eye twitches. I turn around to face my sister. She stands at the doorway, in a blue and gold cheerleading outfit, with one hand on her hip and scowl on her glossy lips. So, she made it on the team after all.
"What did I do this time?"
Melody curls a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. "You mean, besides pushing me into the Red Cross booth and humiliating me in front of all my friends?"
"Are you kidding me?" I storm up to her. "You're the one who left without telling me. I was sitting in the gym for an hour, waiting for you, getting hit on by some jackass, only to find out that you ditched me."
"Whatever," She flips her hair back. "Just don't drop me off at class anymore. It's really embarrassing."
"Go ahead and tell mom that."
"I already did. She said it would hurt your feelings - as if, you barely have anyways. It's not my problem anymore. You tell her."
"Fine."
"Fine." She sniffs and storms inside, leaving me behind, alone, with a raging headache.
-()-
Besides swim team, I think I made up all the clubs in this chapter. Oops.
What's your first impression of Jake and Irene? It's really easy writing those two characters, for some reason. And what's up with Peter? And Derek? And Lucky? Man, there are a lot of new characters in this chapter.
"...."
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And as you probably know, this is Crackers, who's still alive, thanks to you all. Keep it up! I cherish every vote and comment you guys give!
This chapter is dedicated to fizzsohail for the lovely cover she made (off to the side).
Thanks for reading!
QotC: What clubs/jobs do you attend?