Hayley
Buses sucked. Greyhound buses, school buses, and city buses. They all sucked. I was cautious of people now. Watchful and guarded, never sitting too close to a stranger. I remembered my mother teaching me what stranger danger was as a little girl, but up until those men entered our home when I was on the brink of turning thirteen, I didn’t truly realize how dangerous strangers were. Since that day, I was constantly surrounded by them. Even my own mother grew to be a stranger.
So, the city bus ride to and from my foster home and English Prep shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but I still felt uneasy. The only benefit to the forty-minute bus ride every morning was that it got me out of the house sooner and back later. Pete was on his best behavior yesterday evening, even waving to Piper as she drove off in her convertible, and Jill left me half a plate of food on the stove. It was disgusting and tasted like cardboard, but at least it was food.
As much as my new foster home sucked, I was happy to be there after school yesterday. I felt sick sitting in Piper’s passenger seat while she gave me the rundown of the popularity contest at school. Here’s what I learned: Christian was the “king” of English Prep, and Madeline was the “queen”. I knew that much already from my brief encounter in the cafeteria. She filled me in on the other kid
s—popularity ranging from whose parents had the most money. It seemed as if English Prep was more of a breeding ground than anything. She told me where the best keggers were and how they were thrown after every football game. It was all very normal in terms of high school, except Piper mentioned that they all held themselves to a higher standard because their families were treated like royalty in town. There was even a rumor that Christian’s father had the police force in his pocket. That wasn’t the first time I’d heard of someone having the police on their side, even if they weren’t technically on the good side.
I held my tongue before my mouth blurted the question I didn’t want to care about: Were Christian and Madeline dating? I shouldn’t have cared. I didn’t have room in my life to care, but I did. Jealousy surged through me, and I had no right. Christian and I were close before my life was turned upside down, but he was never really mine. We weren’t an item, per se. We never kissed or any of that. But we were close, and everyone knew it. We were drawn to one another. Spent most of our free time together in his fancy treehouse behind his mansion-like home. But I still had no right.
I argued with myself the entire night about why I cared. As I lay there on my pitiful mattress on the floor of a bedroom that felt more alien to me than anything, I couldn’t stop replaying Christian’s glare and repeating everything the Wicked Witch of the West spewed in the cafeteria. Piper ended up giving me the answer to my question without me even asking. She completely warned me off Christian. “Madeline and Christian aren’t together, not officially. But unofficially? Yes. Unofficially, Madeline sucks his dick whenever he snaps his fingers, so she claims him on a daily basis. And if she senses a threat, it’s hard to tell what she’ll do.” My stomach tightened at the thought. There was something about the past and Christian that caused a spark inside of me to burn bright. I knew the hurt was creeping in, but I pushed it down. Instead, I replaced it with anger. Christian had no right to shoot me dirty glares and sick his psycho, unofficial girlfriend on me. Every time I thought of him after I got out of Piper’s car, I saw red. The weepy, sad part of my soul that was forever hung up on Christian and my twelve-year-old self’s feelings, was gone. That was the old Hayley. The new Hayley had no feelings and didn’t think of the past.
The bus lurched to a stop on the corner of the street where English Prep, in all its mass glory, laid. The stone building was built in the early 1800’s, which explained its cobblestone entryway and dramatic medieval archways. It started off as a mansion, owned by a very wealthy businessman named Edward Brown, and then later transformed into a preparatory school founded by Edward’s heirs.
It was a beautiful building. Just by looking at it, I could taste the freedom the education would allow me. Graduating from a school like English Prep, along with my SAT scores, could grant me a seat at an Ivy League school with a scholarship. This year was all that stood between me, a former rich girl turned foster kid, and a ticket out of this hellhole. This place could give me the wings I needed to fly far, far away from the reminders that tainted my life.
I just had to get past the haters.
Piper stepped in line with me as we began walking over the threshold of regular asphalt to cobblestone. The iron gates were wide open and welcoming. “I wish you would let me pick you up in the mornings.”
I turned and looked at her bright face, free of any makeup, like mine. Except, her face was free of bruises—unlike mine. The memory of how I got them started to creep in, my stomach lurching to a halt, but I shoved them clear away. No.
A small, raspy cough came out of my mouth. “I appreciate it.” I looked away. “But it’s a long drive, and I wouldn’t feel right having you pick me up without giving you gas money, and I don’t have any money.” At all.
“I don’t need gas money. My parents pay for my gas, so it’s not even like it’s a big deal. I know they don’t know you, but if they saw where you lived and how you had to take a city bus to school, they’d be happy to help.”
I shook my head as we reached the doors. I quickly scanned the faces of students, but thankfully, I didn’t see anyone who wished I was dead on the spot. “It’s not so bad.” I shrugged, holding onto the straps of my worn backpack. This backpack had been with me since the very beginning. It was one of the only things I took when CPS showed up. I remember my mom looking at it on my back as I walked out of the trailer. My dad had given it to me on the first day of middle school. It was expensive and had my name stitched on the front. I assumed she’d tell me to leave it so she could sell it, but then she realized my name was on the front, and how many Hayley’s did she know? Her shoulders sagged when she made the connection. Then, her back was turned on me and that was that. If I truly thought about that moment, it stung. My mother had never been the super loving and caring type, but after my father died, it was like I never even existed.
Piper stood beside me as I began rummaging through my locker, trying to remember which class I had first. The course load was way more than Oakland High, but considering Jill and Pete weren’t really the “Let's have a family game night!” type of foster parents, I had plenty of free time to get everything done after eating the cardboard dinner. “It is a big deal, Hayley.”
I paused and peeked at her through my dark hair. “Why do you care so much? You just met me. I have bruises and a cut on my face, which I know bother you, because you stare at them. I’m definitely an outcast at this school, and being friends with me is quite possibly a very stupid idea. So why?”
My words were harsh, and I didn’t mean for them to be. I just didn’t know how to do this. How to be friends. Real friends. Not the you're-a-foster-kid-and-so-am-I type of friend. Piper was the kind of girl who wanted to have sleepovers and paint each other’s nails. I didn’t know how to act. I didn’t know how to feel about it.
That’s a lie. You feel happy. You’re just afraid to feel happy.
Piper stuttered, “I—I, well, to be honest, you looked like you needed a friend, and most of the girls here are catty and up Madeline’s bleached asshole or in a serious relationship with their boyfriend, which leaves no room for a friend. My best friend moved a year ago, shortly after I started to attend English Prep, and I’ve been kind of lost since.”
That sucked. I knew how it felt to lose a best friend. Just as the thought entered my head, his face appeared down the hall. Christian’s beautifully, devastatingly chiseled face. It was like a sucker-punch. I quickly averted my eyes back to Piper so I wouldn’t risk meeting another one of his scowls.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed out. I shut my locker, holding onto my English book. “I just…” I looked down at my ratty Converse (which looked ridiculous paired with my school uniform). “I haven't had a real friend in a long time. Everyone and everything eventually gets taken from me, so it’s hard for me to get attached. But you’re right.” I stared at her jade eyes. “I do need a friend.”
She smiled. “Then you’ve got one.”
A real, genuine smile had my cheeks rising as she locked her arm with mine. Before we parted ways to our different classes, she gave me a sideways glance. “But truthfully? Your bruises don’t bother me; I’m just curious.”
I swallowed, and it felt like knives lodged in my throat. “Let’s just say…someone tried to take something that wasn’t theirs, and I retaliated.”
Piper’s head twitched a fraction as we stood a few feet from the wooden door to English class. “Like what, money or something?”
I looked her dead in the eye. “No.”
Her eyes showed pure innocence for a moment, as if she couldn’t even conjure up the idea of what else someone could take from me. But then it clicked, and her light eyes grew dark. “Oh.”
I smirked. “Don’t worry. He looks a lot worse than I do.” Thank God his parents dropped the charges.
She nodded sternly, as if she was proud. And then we went in opposite directions. I took a deep breath before entering the classroom. My eyes were staying trained to the front of the class and my book at all times. Christian was in this class and my poly sci class. And Madeline was in my world language class (I absolutely made it a pact to learn how to disrespect her in Mandarin) and PE. If I could get through those few classes without Christian knotting his face into a scowl and Madeline keeping her insults to a minimum, I might actually have a chance at this school.