Chapter Four

Lia + Hat

 

“Seriously, Barnabas, can you safety pin my eyelids open? I mean, did we really have to leave for school so early this morning?” I whine in Barnabas’s ear as we walk away from his car toward the school building. It’s still a little dark outside, so the hotter-than-Hades sun hasn’t made its way out yet to burn away my flesh.

Barnabas’s body gives a false shiver. “That’s disturbing, even for me.” He pauses to think about it. “But I could always try wooden clothes pins.”

“Now that would be revolting.” I’m still completely exhausted from last night. We stayed at my dads’ place for a long while, and Barnabas’s cookies were the most delectable food product I have ever tasted. They were red-to-the-freaken-velvet perfection.

Then I left Dad and Dom’s a little after nine to head back to my mom’s apartment. Mom had to keep talking while all I wanted to do was finish Mario part two. But I did get my game time in eventually—maybe a little too much, since I’m paying for it now.

“You know you didn’t have to leave early with me this morning. You do have a car, remember?” Barnabas elbows me in the upper arm, and I slap his fingertips hard.

“I know, but that would require me having to focus while driving to and from school. My brain is too fried for that.” I swear I’m not a lazy person—most of the time. I’m actually the one who usually drives us to school, so Barnabas can save on gas because his mom requires him to work for everything. Even though she still gives him the money.

“So, why are you putting in more harp time than usual?” I ask while adjusting my backpack.

I know his parents want Barnabas to be number one at everything, especially his mom. I can hear her now. “Barnabas Kemrin Lao, you need to get an A, A, A! Only As in this house.” She shakes her finger in his face. “You fail in life if you make eighty-nine on paper. Why you wear black all the time? You want to be loser?”

“All-State auditions are coming up soon,” he says, looking at me now, “and Ma says if I don’t finish number one, I’ll fail at life.” Laughing, he shakes his head, easily brushing off the stuff his mom says. She only wants the best for Barnabas, but she needs to relax on him a little.

We reach the school building, and Barnabas pulls the glass door open for me. He shuffles inside wearing another pair of his black goth pants that should be forbidden from any place. But I keep my mouth shut this time. “You’re already the best harpist in the school.” I shake my fist in front of his face. “So, you can do it.”

Sucking in his lower lip, Barnabas bites on it, and holds back his grin. “I’m the only harpist in the whole school, Lia.”

“Exactly.”

We turn down the orchestra hallway, and there are only a couple kids scattered down it. Barnabas stops in front of the door to the classroom. “Well, this is my stop. You want to come in or go be a loner?”

I would go in there to finish my homework, but then I would get too distracted by Barnabas’s playing, and would need to sit back and watch.

“I’m going to go and be a loner. Plus, I have to finish my math homework before fourth period.”

“Do we need to find you a gamer’s anonymous class?” Barnabas raises a black eyebrow.

“Hey, I may play video games some.” I dart my eyes back and forth. “Okay a lot. But. I maintain decent grades. A steady straight-B report card, to be exact.”

“You tell my mom that.”

“I actually have, and she congratulated me.” She even gave me two fortune cookies from the restaurant they own.

“Of course, she would say that.” He laughs and strolls into the classroom with a weird peace sign hand movement. I roll my eyes at him, straighten my hat, and head down the hallway.

Twisting my backpack around, I unzip the pocket and pull out my cellphone. Perfect, thirty minutes until class starts.

I take a right when I hit the end of the hallway and head straight for the cafeteria. There are some kids already there socializing, fiddling around with their phones, or who knows what.

An empty table pulls into my vision first, and I take it, flopping my backpack on top. I yank out my math homework, which only has five problems left, so not as bad as I thought.

The numbers in my head cease their calculations as I reach the last problem, when a shadow hovers over me. Ignoring the person, I finish my last math problem then look up.

Sophie Mattox. Her curly, blonde hair practically bouncing even though she’s standing perfectly still, creepily.

“Yes?” I close my notebook and stuff it back inside my backpack.

Her big blue doll eyes are all glammed up with too much liquid black eyeliner. Almost every girl in the school thinks they have to wear it that way, along with the weird eyebrow makeup she has going on. It’s also cliché, but she does have on a cheerleader uniform as well. I’m nice enough to not roll my eyes on the outside, but on the inside, I roll them twice.

She smiles widely with beaming white teeth poking out. “Hey, Lia, what’s going on?”

I want to say, What’s going on back in third grade because that’s when we last talked. But I’m semi-nice enough to keep it reeled in. Sophie wasn’t ever mean per se—she just stopped talking to me when the cooler kids came around. But instead I say, “Oh, not much, just living the dream, being at school and all.”

Her smile grows full-blown. “I know, right? I love school. Speaking of love? Are you ready for Piggy Palooza? I am so excited.” She slaps her hands down on the cafeteria table. I stare at them with my lips puckered, since she did just vibrate the whole table.

“I’m going to pass on that,” I say. I’m not sure what we’re doing here, or if we’re in a time warp I don’t ever want to revisit. Can I have my solitude back?

“So … anyway,” she drags out, “your friend Barnabas.”

And, there’s my answer, folks.

“I was wondering if he’s single?”

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. “He is.” I purse my lips tightly.

Sophie chews on the edge of her lip and smiles excitedly. “Would you ask him if he wants to go to the Piggy Palooza kickoff party with me Friday night?” she asks shyly, rubbing her toe against the tile.

Tilting my head in the direction of the orchestra hallway, I say, “Why don’t you go ask him yourself? He’s in the practice room in the orchestra classroom.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. Can you ask him? Please? I’ll owe you one,” Sophie begs.

I’d do anything right now to get this girl away from me. “Fine.”

“Okay, I’ll wait right here.” With her index finger, she taps the table twice for emphasis.

I didn’t mean right this second. But at least she won’t be following my ass down the hall, all breathing down my neck—because she seems like that type. She shouldn’t be scared to talk to Barnabas, anyway—it’s not like he would say no. I mean, who’s going to shoot Sophie down?

When I reach the door to the classroom, I head inside to the practice rooms and find Barnabas. I press my head against the glass and peer inside. He’s strumming the strings with his eyes shut, looking like an avenging angel with a harp. Swinging open the door, I smile to myself.

His eyes stay closed as I approach him, and black nail-polished fingers continue to strum.

Climbing the three steps, I reach Barnabas and tap his shoulder. “Hey, Barnabas.”

His eyes flicker open, and his arms fall to his sides. “Back already?” He grins.

“Shut up, Barnabas.” I laugh. “Anyway, so Sophie Mattox is too scared to come ask you herself this question. Do you want me to go ahead and tell her you’ll go with her to the shitty Piggy party Friday night?”

Barnabas’s head whips to mine so fast, giving me a cringe like I just told him he would have to eat dog vomit for lunch. “Um … no.”

“What? You don’t want to be the prince to take the princess to the ball?”

“Have you seen those eyebrows? Those drawn-on caterpillar brows would haunt my dreams, possibly forever.” He shudders.

“Are you gay, Barnabas? Give it to me straight. You know I wouldn’t care—I do have two awesome dads.” I don’t think anyone has ever shot Sophie down.

Shaking his head, Barnabas gives a loud chuckle that echoes through the room. “No, I’m not gay, but I do have another young lady in mind.”

I cringe. “It’s not me, right?” I joke.

“Gross! Not that you’re gross, but that would be too weird.” He grimaces. That would be strange—he’s practically my brother from another mother. “No, but seriously, just tell Sophie I said, thanks for the offer.”

“How about you tell her.” I don’t really want to deliver the message back to Sophie.

“Look, just tell her I have too much on my mind with the harp right now. And that is the only lady I have time for in my life at the moment.” Barnabas strums the strings to stress his point.

“I’m never doing this again,” I mutter to myself as I walk away, heading back to where Sophie’s still patiently waiting. She actually did stay here and wait the whole time—what a sad day this is going to be.

In anticipation, Sophie’s big eyes turn wider, like those little stuffed TY animals, but I don’t feel sorry for her. I’m more annoyed I have to break this awkward news.

“So? What did he say?” Stepping toward me, Sophie grabs my elbow to walk across the hall.

Staring down at her hand on my elbow, I shake her off. “Barnabas said he has too much going on right now with ‘the harp’ to have anyone in his life at the moment. He has All-State auditions coming up.”

I’m waiting for the tears or a sad face to come, but instead, a huge smile crosses her face as she looks up toward the ceiling. “Thanks so much.” She throws her arms around me, and I attempt to shake out of that, too, but she’s latched around me like a boa constrictor. “Just ask him after All-State for me.”

Finally escaping her hold, I pat her shoulder with the tip of my finger. “I have a better idea. How about you ask him?” I grin. Next time Barnabas can deal with this himself.

“Okay, great. See you in third period, Lia.” Sophie bounces off to a table, nodding her head at four girls seated and watching in our direction.

All the girls smile and one shouts, “I knew he’d be interested.”

Poor Barnabas.

As soon as I turn around to head back and sit down, the bell rings. Feeling relieved, I walk to first period. Government is a class I wish would go away. I try to understand it, I really do, but I can’t!

I take a right down the hall and walk through the first door on my left. Mr. Walker is not at his desk yet. He’s sometimes late for class because he also coaches the soccer team’s practice before school starts.

When I look toward my desk, I halt in place. I’m not surprised to see Kiev’s perfect brown hair in his seat beside mine, because Mr. Know-It-All is always there before me. But his douchebag friend, Cole, is sitting in my seat. Not that I have a reason for thinking he’s a douchebag, besides the fact he hangs out with Kiev.

Marching right up to Cole, I stop in front of him and place my hand on top of the desk. “This is my seat.”

“Do you own it?” he asks, not moving an inch.

“For the hour I do.” I take off my backpack and set it on the desk.

Cole looks around the mostly empty classroom. “This temple of learning contains a multitude of unoccupied seats, Miss Ophelia Abbie.”

Clenching my teeth, I say, “It’s Lia.” I hate when people use my full first name. “Also, you aren’t even in this class.”

“Is that a crime? Besides, I’m here to converse with my best friend.” His blue eyes slowly look me up and down.

“Do I even care about that? Get up, before I make you get up.”

I’m about to yank him up by his collar when he starts to stand up from the seat, smiling. Holding his hands up, his eyes studying Kiev. “Mr. Kiev Jimenez says you’re … you…”

“What did he say?” My eyes shift toward Kiev’s gray ones—his whole face and neck are red.

“I didn’t say anything,” Kiev exclaims.

Cole grins. “Inform her. If your mouth fails to produce words, your humble server can speak on your behalf.”

“Go to class, dude,” Kiev says, annoyed.

“Your wish is my command, Mr. Kiev Jimenez, who shall live forever,” Cole says, then faces me and bows his head. “Later, Miss Ophelia Abbie.” He snickers before heading out of the classroom.

What an idiot.

My eyes bulge at Kiev whose face is still all tomato-like.

“I didn’t say that. No one in their right mind would care what you look like under your—” he stutters. “I mean, I don’t know what I mean.”

“Under my what?” I say through gritted teeth.

“N-nothing,”

Ignoring Kiev, I take a seat in the already warm chair and grimace—I hate feeling someone else’s butt heat in a chair. I don’t really care if it was Cole being an idiot or not. They are both jerkoffs.

Kiev points at my head. “Also, you need to take off your cap before Mr. Walker comes in.”

My eyebrows furrow, and I turn my head to face him. “What are you? School police patrol?”

“Just warning you.” He shrugs.

“Whatever.”

He shrugs his stupid shoulders again and looks back down to read something in front of him. Forgetting about him, I pull out my phone and send Barnabas a quick text.

Me: The Caterpillar still has her hopes set. Just a warning.

Smiling to myself, I put my phone away.

Mr. “Dead” Walker, as the class likes to call him, ambles into the room with his brown buzz-cut hair and lanky body. His dark eyes with heavy bags underneath turn toward me, narrowing. “What did I tell you about that hat, Miss Abbie? This is your last chance before I write you up. That means you’ll have detention for a week if it happens again.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, smiling as sweetly as I can muster. When he looks away, I frown and slide my hat into my backpack.

To my right, a movement pulls at my vision to look that way, and Kiev has a hand over his mouth. With a smirk on his face, he places it back on the edge of his notebook.

“Told you so,” he mouths to me.

I’d like to smack that smirk right off his face.