Chapter 4

No matter what Hope had said about chemistry lab and natural conversation starters, I had no faith I would actually figure out how to speak to Liam when the time came. Definitely not on our first lab date, anyway. Still, if I was going to be struck dumb like the Little Mermaid when I mixed hydrocarbons with Prince Charming, I figured at least looking perfect would be a good start. Then maybe he wouldn’t notice I couldn’t talk to him. After a few more consultations, Hope had decided I should just work the silent, smoldering look until I scraped up enough confidence to speak. She also suggested vanilla shampoo and cinnamon pumpkin lotion, which was my favorite part of the plan. (Hope’s compromise: I could smell like food, but I couldn’t talk about it.)

In addition to smelling like a bakery, I’d also planned my outfit the night before. I sent pictures of half my wardrobe to Hope and got her vote (white top because it brings out my olive skin, skinny jeans, high-heeled ankle boots and black opal earrings to match my eyes). Her makeup tips were to go heavy on the mascara, light on lip gloss. Then hair—straightened and pulled back to bring out my cheekbones and eyebrows. According to her I’m all about the eyebrows—whatever that means.

So when I walk into school the next morning I feel polished and ready—but, just in case, I stop by Hope’s locker to get a final touch up. She’s talking to Kathy and Marcus—or “the octopus” as we call them in private—and they wave me over as I approach. Kathy has her hands in Marcus’s pockets and Marcus’s fingers are lost somewhere in her sweater. Those two are that couple, the one you can’t look at for longer than ten seconds before their PDA hits you in the face. They’ve been together since the fourth grade, first as best friends and then eventually as a couple, inseparable and adorable in a way that’s a little gross. They’ve even begun to look alike—slim and small with large, dark eyes and straight black hair cut in matching styles. Nobody can picture them as anything but the octopus, two heads merged into one and eight limbs wrapped around their common body. Hope thinks that if they ever fought there would be an awful rending sound like a giant piece of Velcro being ripped in half.

“Well, don’t you look nice!” Marcus exclaims, grinning broadly at me.

“Thank you,” I reply. “It’s all Hope’s work.”

Kathy cocks her head over to the side and studies me thoughtfully. “I’d lose the pink scarf,” she muses. “It looks like you’re trying too hard.”

Marcus appears scandalized. “Then the entire outfit is just black and white! The scarf brings it all together, baby.”

She turns to her boyfriend and gives him an adoring smile. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that. Rainey, you should keep the scarf. Definitely.”

They gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, and I concentrate on some invisible dirt under my fingernails. When I look up again they’re still at it.

“God, you two,” I mutter. “It’s like eight in the morning. Take a breather already.”

Kathy breaks the passionate stare and fakes an embarrassed pout. “Sorry. We can’t help it… We’re just—”

“Yeah. I know. I get it.”

“You can laugh at us all you want,” Marcus says, smiling, “but you’ll act the same way if things work out with you and Liam.”

“Work out?” I protest. “I’m not asking him on a date! We’re doing a few chemistry experiments together. He never even noticed me before yesterday.”

Marcus shrugs, and he and Kathy exchange a knowing smirk. “We’ll see.” Their arms intertwine, their heads come together, and they walk away as one, whispering about me before they’re even out of earshot. “You know,” he says, “sometimes I think Rain just needs to take some risks. Put her feelings out there.”

“I know. She’s so careful, about everything—”

“Except with food. Remember the Chia Pet pudding?”

“I can still hear you!” I shout after them. “And it was chia seed!”

One of them giggles, but they don’t break their stride.

I turn back to Hope who’s laughing quietly, her face hidden by her locker door.

“I warned them that it wasn’t ready yet,” I tell her mournfully. “But they grabbed it out of my lunch bag. I can’t believe that Marcus posted it on Instagram. And titled it ‘Rain’s famous sperm pudding.’”

“Yeah, I saw that pic.”

“Everyone saw that pic. I’m pretty sure that’s where my twenty blog followers came from in the first place.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh. I was hoping you wouldn’t make the connection.”

“I didn’t really mind at first. And one guy has started writing in now. I think I’m really helping him!”

“Someone you know?”

“Total stranger. He hasn’t mentioned the sperm pudding—yet. I’m hoping he hasn’t seen it. Everyone who’s seen it is either grossed out or thinks it’s hilarious. Last week Grayson stopped me in the hall and told me he’d like to donate some ingredients.”

“Ugh, what a douche.” She sniffs at her ex-boyfriend, who’s standing with his friend at the end of the hall. She always refers to Grayson by that name (though sometimes she substitutes “turd”) even though she’s never really explained what happened between the two of them. There was some awful fight on Valentine’s Day (the Octopus called it the Valentine’s Day Massacre), and then they stopped speaking to each other. But whenever I asked her why they broke up, she’d always change the subject. “I heard what happened at Manny’s yesterday,” she says abruptly. “I’m really sorry they gave you and Ethan a hard time.”

I shrug. “Yeah, well. That kind of thing used to happen all the time when Ethan was in school. But he’s been out of Clarkson High for two years now. And there are still some jerks who go out of their way to hurt him.”

“It’s high school. What do you expect? There’s not much we can do.”

“I guess.”

I hoist my bag over my shoulder and glare silently at the bullies, who cheerfully ignore me, though I see Grayson shift slightly away from me as I pass him. It isn’t fair, I think, bitterly. Why do people like that always get away with being mean? Why didn’t anyone ever do anything to stop them? I throw one last dirty look at them.

(Blog idea: Revenge Milkshake [or Rain Uses Her Powers for Evil]: 2 cups of ice cream, 3 tablespoons of chocolate syrup, and half a cup of breast milk. Blend well and serve topped with whipped cream, if desired. Serve to the asshole in your life, then after he/she eats, reveal the secret ingredient and run.)

As I turn away, I see Mike lift his hands and flap them in front of Grayson’s face. Their laughter echoes through the halls as I freeze in place. They’re still making fun of him. I feel my pulse rise and my skin grow hot as I swallow against a tightening throat. I’m watching them mock my brother, and I’m standing there doing nothing about it. My helpless twin, who’s now at home alone because of these—

“Assholes!”

The word is out of my mouth before I have a chance to think. The two guys turn around at once and stare at me open-mouthed.

“What did you say?”

For a moment, I’m just as shocked as they are. I’m not particularly shy or anything, but calling out two guys in the middle of the school hallway? That isn’t my style. It’s one of my personal rules: avoid confrontation and never pick fights because Ethan might get caught in the crossfire.

But this time my brother isn’t here to get hurt. So I might as well finish it.

“I said that you’re an asshole, Mike,” I repeat, louder, so that the growing crowd behind me can hear. “You’re the big macho guy who’s such a pussy that he’ll pick on a guy who can’t defend himself.”

I sense Hope materialize beside me. She leans over and gently lays a restraining hand over my shoulder. “Come on now, Rain. Let’s go,” she murmurs, but I shake her off and turn to face my new enemies.

“No, that’s fine,” Mike growls, advancing toward us. “Your brother’s bigger than me. He’s welcome to stand up for himself if he wants.” I feel Hope moving backward, but I don’t budge. I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me cower. He slowly raises his clenched fists in front of me and then with a dramatic flourish loosens them and deliberately begins to flap them inches from my face. “So where is he, then? Why is his sister here instead of him?”

I grab his hand and push it away. “He isn’t here because of people like you.”

He pulls his arm out of my grip and laughs. “Good. We don’t need retards like him in this school.” His voice echoes around the hall, and I hear a rumble of agreement from some of the students in the growing crowd around us.

“Don’t call him that! Don’t you dare use that word—” I’m choking on my own frustration. There’s no way to explain why I’m so angry now. Words don’t mean anything to them. I just want to launch myself at Mike here and now, to punch and tear at him until the rage in me is satisfied.

But the school bell rings, shattering the tense silence. Mr. Travers, the principal, emerges from around the corner and hovers ominously behind Hope. “What’s going on here, guys?” he grumbles. The crowd around us shrinks back under his glare. Some of the kids begin to melt away through the open classroom doors, and Mike crosses his arms and mutters something under his breath to Grayson.

But I’m not ready to leave it yet. “My brother is brilliant, and he’s going to do great things,” I tell him proudly. “And you’re going to spend the rest of your sad existence burning shit to the ground.”

There’s a ripple of laughter, and some of the kids near me applaud and hoot their approval. I turn away from them with a triumphant smile and link my arm through Hope’s. Now I’ve finished it, I think grimly. And I was pretty eloquent too, while I was at it. Poetic, even. I should tell people off more often.

“That’s enough, now,” growls the principal. “Get to class, all of you.”

As I walk down the hall, I glance back at Mike and see him fluttering his wrists in a last, futile attempt to imitate my brother. “Better tie him down, or he’ll fly away on his gigantic flapping arms,” he hoots after me, but no one is listening to him, and I don’t care anymore. I’ve won this match for Ethan. God knows it was a long time in coming. I can’t wait to tell him all about it after school.

I’m so pleased with myself that at first I don’t notice that Hope is nudging me. “What?” I finally ask.

She whispers in my ear, “Don’t look now,” she says, “but I think Mr. Perfect has been watching you from the corner there.”

My smile fades, and I turn involuntarily in the direction she indicated. Liam is standing in a corner by the water fountain, flipping absently through his phone. He seems to sense my eyes on him and glances up at me. He nods and possibly begins to smile, but just then half of the Octopus breaks off and blocks my view of him.

“Oh, my God, Rain! I heard every word you said!” Kathy says, panting heavily into my face. “Good for you! We were all cheering for you.”

“That’s great, thank you,” I mutter absently and crane my neck to look around her. But the spot where Liam was standing is empty now, and my heart sinks. Oh well. That was the closest I’ve gotten to speaking to him. Kathy notices my disappointed expression and waves her boyfriend over. “You were standing next to Liam,” she hisses at Marcus in a whisper that carries down the hallway. “Didn’t he say something about Rain? Come on, tell her what he said!”

He shoots her a “shut up” look, puts his arm out, and in a quick, practiced motion pulls her deftly to his side. “You were fantastic, Rain!” he crows, dodging his girlfriend’s question. “Really, I was so proud of you—”

“Marcus,” I interrupt. “What did Liam say about me?”

“He didn’t… I couldn’t really hear…” He trails off and gives a forced cough, then clears his throat and stares down at his feet. “I don’t remember him saying anything, actually.”

I tap my foot impatiently. “Come on, Marcus, you are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Just tell me what he said.”

He gives Kathy a “see-what-you’ve-done-now” look and then grants me a “I’m-so-sorry-to-be-the-one-to-tell-you” smile before finally giving it up. “Well, it was right after you said that bit about Ethan doing great things—”

“Yes?”

“I heard him kind of…laugh.”

“Okay…?”

“And so I turned to him.”

“Right. And?”

“Well, he kind of… He kind of rolled his eyes at me.”

I actually feel my heart slow down. For a second, everything slows down, and I want him to stop talking. I want to live in the space before he tells me what he’s getting ready to say.

He pauses (Marcus is nothing if not dramatic, especially when he’s getting ready to dump cold water on someone) and then breathes, “So after you say that thing about Ethan doing something amazing, Liam says, ‘Oh, please. He’ll never change. Why is she wasting so much energy on a retard?’”

Dear God, I hate the Octopus in that moment. I know I should be focusing my hatred on the guilty party. But Liam isn’t there in front of me, and they are, and right now I feel like killing the messenger with my mind. They wrap their arms around each other even tighter, as if to warm themselves against the sudden iciness of my glare.

“I’m so sorry, Rain,” they say in unison.

“Maybe…maybe you didn’t hear him right,” Hope suggests desperately.

But he can’t even give me that.

“Oh no,” he declares. “Those were his actual words. I’m repeating them, verbatim.”

“Ladies! And Marcus.” Principal Travers has materialized again. “There better be a good reason you’re hanging out in the hallway after homeroom has started.”

“We’re going!” Hope assures him, flashing her sweetest smile. “Rain just had female trouble. We were all helping her with it.”

It’s a ridiculous excuse, but she could have as easily claimed that I had become momentarily deranged and begun climbing the walls like Spider-Man. Travers never does anything to punish any of the students. His bark is far worse than his bite. He is friends with most of our parents—he can’t exactly suspend us and then invite the whole family to his summer barbecue. So we cheerfully take advantage of his weakness. It’s one of the few perks of living in a small town.

Hope gives me a shove, and a minute later I’m in my homeroom seat. My mind is still reeling from Marcus’s revelation, and for a few minutes I’m deaf to everything around me—the monotone voice of the teacher, the scratching of pencils, and even Hope’s pathetic whispers to get my attention. I can’t believe it. How could I have been so blind and stupid? How could I have liked that jerk? He was my first real crush. I’d started liking him because he seemed so good, so different from every other guy I’d known. He’d met all my criteria, every last rule.

While my friends fell for the sexy bad boys—the Mikes, the Graysons—I went for the quiet, bookish one who most of the others passed over. Because he seemed so sensible and safe to me and therefore just about…perfect.

“Maybe Liam didn’t mean it like it sounded,” Hope murmurs, placing a consoling hand over my drumming fingers. “He’s never really met Ethan—”

“No, no, Liam’s met him,” I tell her. “Last year my mom enrolled Ethan in swim team, and Liam was the lifeguard. They’ve definitely met.”

“Okay, but maybe they never really talked—”

“He called my brother a retard, Hope. There’s nothing more to say about this, all right? But thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

She keeps patting my arm. “Oh, Rain… What are you going to do?” she says with a sigh. “You have to talk to him in chemistry next period.”

“So?” I practically bite down on the word. “What about it?”

“Well, you were so nervous before. Doesn’t this make it even worse?”

“No,” I tell her shortly. The first period bell rings and there’s a crash of moving desks and scraping chairs. “I’m not nervous anymore.”

She looks confused and leans over to pick her bag off the floor. “Okay. Well, good luck, I guess.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. “But I don’t think I’ll need it.”