Most days I like Cassie, but today, not really. I’m trying to avoid the discussion of Dylan at all costs, but it’s not working. That has more to do with Cassie than me. She is driving me crazy and I want to tell her to fuck off, but I’m afraid if I do then she’ll know that I like Dylan more than I should. And that would go down like cancer because Cassie likes him, too. Yet, she knows something is up, that’s why she’s bugging me. She needles me in a roundabout way that isn’t vicious but still stings. Her short blond hair is tousled with hair wax in an Emo sort of way. Cassie wants to be Emo, but she couldn’t be if she tried. She’s far too perky and annoying. I drag a French fry through a puddle of ketchup, trying to shut Cassie’s voice out.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you two.” She sips her Diet Coke. “You’ve known each other for so long now . . .” she’s trying to suck up, but that’s not Cassie’s style, “I mean what did you do to him anyhow?” She continues to fish for details as she takes another swallow of her drink.
I shove a handful of fries into my mouth. The salt and grease soothe me, unlike Cassie. She is bugging the shit out of me. “I didn’t do anything, Cassandra.” I emphasize her full name like it’s a venereal disease that I don’t want to catch. “I don’t know. I mean he just gets like that sometimes, doesn’t he?”
Cassie isn’t buying it, but she isn’t sure how much farther she can push me before I snap. “Look,” she says eyeing me up. I can see her brain working furiously. “You’re too shy to say it, but we both know what’s going on, don’t we? I mean inside, we both know he’s playing the game, right?” I have no idea what she’s talking about and I look at her like she’s lost her mind. My confusion seems to give her confidence.
“Did he ask you a bunch of stuff about me, but you wouldn’t tell him so now he’s off somewhere sulking?” Cassie presses on like an idiot, running her hand through her hair before playing with her earring.
“What?” I sit shocked unable to process what she’s just thrown at me.
“You don’t have to worry about me getting mad. If he asks, tell him whatever he wants,” she says non-chalantly, but I can tell she’s excited. Her voice has raised an octave and her eyes have darkened as she looks off over my head probably looking for Dylan.
“Fuck this,” I utter under my breath low enough that she can’t hear me. I can’t take anymore of Cassie’s crap so I get up from the table without another word. If my actions surprise her, I can’t tell because I have my back to her. I toss my black messenger bag over my shoulder and storm down the hall towards my next class.
I have sat through three periods, cursing Cassie, but at the same time, worrying about how Dylan might feel about her. It’s not like he’s ever done anything to egg her on, but boys could be stupid like that. Could it be possible that he likes her? The thought eats at me until I feel like I’m going to scream out loud. I almost ask Mr Petersen to excuse me from class, but the bell rings and saves me the embarrassment. I can’t get out of English fast enough.