The Fragile Ordinary

Heather smirked. “I made it to the second round auditions, too.” Her gaze zeroed in on Steph, who was staring up at her with a mixture of guilt and irritation in her eyes. “And I’m going after the part of Roxie.”

This was a surprise, because Heather had been director’s assistant on the school shows for the past few years. She loved bossing people around. She had not, however, played a part before.

Why now?

Perhaps because Steph had snogged Heather’s ex-boyfriend at her party and she was evil and vindictive?

We were all thinking it.

Vicki snorted. “Good luck with that, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“Why?” Heather’s gaze locked with Steph’s. “Because you’re so special? Aye, right.”

“Take a walk, McAlister,” Vicki huffed. “No one likes a drama-llama.”

My onetime nemesis gave Vicki a narrow-eyed gaze but strutted across the room, hips swaying, hair swinging, and took a seat with her friends.

“I hate the way she walks.” Steph glowered. “Where does she think she is? At a bloody runway show?”

There was a tiny, tiny part of me that was a little gleeful about all this. It was wrong. It was small. I knew that. But Steph had been disloyal once in order to play nice with Heather McAlister, and now she was getting a taste of why it was futile to suck up to a girl like Heather. She enjoyed causing problems and misery for people.

“What a cow.” Steph turned to look at us, her blue eyes round with shock. “Was she always such a cow?”

Vicki and I exchanged a look. “Yes.”

“God. You kiss someone’s ex-boyfriend and you might as well have murdered him, the way she’s acting.”

I caught sight of movement in my peripheral and turned as Andy Walsh, a video-game-and-rugby-obsessed boy in our class who somehow managed to cross social cliques with admirable proficiency, leaned his chair on its back legs toward us. He balanced it perfectly as he whispered to us, “It’s not about Lister. She’s just pissed off because King messed around with her at her party but doesn’t want to date her.”

Tobias.

“So she’s taking it out on me?” Steph whined.

Andy shrugged. “She’s taking it out on everyone. And it’s not like King made her any promises.”

I noted the hero worship in Andy’s eyes and just stopped myself from rolling mine.

Vicki grinned at him. “Seriously? That would make him the first guy to not run around panting at Heather’s arse.”

Andy grinned back. “The guy is a god among men.”

I groaned but Vicki chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I’m definitely starting to like him more.”

Once Andy had turned his attention from us, Steph leaned toward me. “I know why she’s being a bitch to me, but now I also know why she was a bitch to you, Comet. At the party I asked her friend Liza why Heather has such a problem with you.”

Not really sure I wanted to know why Heather had a problem with me, I stiffened.

Vicki, however, demanded, “Tell us, then.”

“Well...” Steph’s eyes lit with the power of knowing gossip we didn’t. “Apparently, Heather’s life isn’t as perfect as she wants people to think. Her parents are on her constantly to be the best. At everything. And she was. She was top of her class at her primary school. Then first year hits and you, Comet, scored top marks in our English and history projects in the first term. Liza said her parents gave her such a hard time about it, and that’s why she came after you. That’s why she can’t stand you. Because you showed her up to her parents.”

Despite Heather’s cruelty, I felt more than a flicker of compassion. While my parents didn’t show me enough attention, Heather’s sounded overbearing. It didn’t soothe the humiliation I’d felt when she was bullying me, but at least now I understood that her lashing out had nothing to do with me personally.

It would appear to be a pattern of Heather McAlister: taking her crap out on the wrong people.

After registration, we dispersed for our classes, Heather throwing Steph another sneering, challenging look before she left. I shook my head, patting my friend’s shoulder in comfort. “Ignore her. She can’t even play the part of the villain originally.”

“Eh?”

“Well...” I gestured to where Heather had disappeared down the corridor. “It’s like she’s watched every American mean-girl movie and combined and adopted the roles as her own.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s still trying to mess with me.” Steph worried her lip.

Vicki threw an arm around Steph’s neck. “Like we’d ever let that happen.”

Our friend gave us a grateful but still tremulous smile, and we parted ways for our different classes.

* * *

Every day in English Mr. Stone told us he would assign a part from Hamlet to a student and we’d read through a scene. The thought made me nervous, because I was soft-spoken and hated having to try to project my voice to be heard in the room. As I waited for everyone to filter in to class at seventh period, the nervousness I felt dissipated as Tobias walked into the room with Andy. Andy murmured something to him, and they both looked at Heather. Andy punched Tobias playfully on the arm, almost in a good luck, man kind of way, and Tobias walked toward Heather wearing a blank expression on his face.

Mr. Stone had told us yesterday that the seats we had chosen were now our assigned seats for the rest of the year. Tobias was stuck.

I tried to appear inconspicuous as I followed his movement, peeking at him from behind strands of my hair. Heather glared at him as he approached, and then shifted her seat and her stuff away from him like he had a disease.

He didn’t acknowledge her, instead taking his seat and leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Soon class was in full progress and I was happy to escape unscathed as Mr. Stone asked Steph to read the queen’s part.

There was a moment of awkwardness when he asked Tobias King to read for Hamlet.

“No thanks,” Tobias replied, creating a hush of shock in the room.

Mr. Stone crossed his arms and stared impassively at the newcomer. “No thanks?”

“Yeah.”

I looked over my shoulder, because everyone was looking at him and it was nice to be able to stare without anyone watching me. Tobias had his chair tipped on its hind legs with his arms over the back of it, all casual insolence.

“I wasn’t really giving you an option, Mr. King. Participation is a part of the grade in this class.”

Tobias shrugged, staring at my favorite teacher. “Then I guess you’ll need to mark me down because I’m not reading the part of some pansy-assed Danish dude that wants to screw his mom and can’t get over the fact dear old daddy is dead.”

There was sniggering around the room but not from me. I turned away from the boy I’d thought was beautiful when I’d first seen him. Funny how the more I heard from him, the less attractive he became to me.

Mr. Stone scowled at Tobias. “You don’t have to read, Tobias, but you do have to show me some respect. Watch your language and get your chair on the ground. Now.”

Mr. Stone’s authority rang around the room, and I peeked back over my shoulder to see Tobias do as he was bid. However, he didn’t wipe that annoyingly bored look off his face.