His Favorite, page 6
“No,” Zack says, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Even if you eventually did get with Chris, all it would take is one fight for him to pull this. That’s how assholes like him are. This has nothing to do with us.”
I want so badly to believe him, but I can’t. “It’s us, Zack,” I cry, burying my face in his chest again. He lets out a deep sigh and holds me once again.
“I’m going to fix this, Logan. I promise I will.”
He says it with such conviction that for a moment, I think he will too. I don’t know how, but like all of my other problems before, Zack swears that he’ll take care of it. It’s a nice thought, but I just don’t see anything changing. Not after what Chris did.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to face everyone at school again.
10
Zack
T hat motherfucker is going to wish he was dead after I get done with him. All night long, I’ve been unable to sit still, antsy with rage. I’ve read through everything people are saying about Logan, all the blatant lies people are spreading about her, and it only serves to fuel my fire even more.
All day at work, I could barely focus on anything other than what people were saying and I how I was going to make Chris pay for this. There were endless possibilities that ran through my mind. Logan told me everything he said to her, how he kept insulting her, degrading her in front of all his friends.
Thinking about that again is what caused me to accidentally snap a thin stool leg in half while I set it up.
“Damn, kid,” Dennis said, glancing at me. “You okay?”
I tried to come up with something to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to even crack a joke. I wasn’t in the mood for comedy, or being the funny guy I normally am. I was in the mood for revenge. Cold, hard revenge.
“You sure about this?” my buddy Jordan asks when he pulls up to my apartment. “I mean, we could get in some serious shit for even thinking about doing this, man. It’s probably a felony or something,” he murmurs.
“Jordan, are you down or not?” I demand. “Because I don’t have time for you to pussyfoot around and not commit. You heard what he said about Logan. You saw all the shit people were saying to her. What they’ve been posting on her wall. This asshole better be lucky this is the only thing we’re doing.”
Jordan chews on his bottom lip for a second before nodding. He keeps nodding until it’s confident. “Alright, yeah. Fuck this guy.”
“Thank you,” I say.
I almost feel bad for snapping at him, but he should understand more than anyone. He has three younger sisters that he’s always worrying about. Let some dumbass from their school post all over social media that they slept with guys that they didn’t and I know he’d rally the troops just as hard. Especially if he held them while they cried about how this would never go away. How people would always remember them as the girls that slept with the football team.
Just thinking about it pisses me off all over again. But he’s going to wish he hadn’t fucked with my sister. He’s going to wish he’d have just taken his rejection and moved onto another girl. He picked the wrong one, and tonight, he’s going to realize just how wrong he was.
There’s a knock at the door.
Peter and Quinton are outside, looking just as pissed as I am. They’ve heard all my fond stories of growing up with Logan, and they look much angrier than Jordan was when he showed up. Peter’s even brought an old baseball bat with him. When I point this out, Quinton reaches into his pocket and flips out a switchblade.
“We’re not killing him,” I remind them, almost smiling at them.
“Just getting pretty damn close,” Peter says.
This is why these are my guys. Nobody else would react so quickly, volunteering to help me take down some rich, privileged asshole like these two have. Jordan pushes himself up from the couch and walks towards them.
“You guys got any spare weapons. I’m feeling a little left out here,” he grins.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got a tire iron in my trunk,” I offer.
Jordan looks between the three of us. “That works.”
I pull him close in a one-armed hug. “My man,” I say.
Once we’re all ready, me and the boys climb into my car and head directly for Chris’s job. He works at a restaurant not too far from my apartments, and word on the street is, tonight he’s working the night shift. We pull up, and as expected, there aren’t many cars in the parking lot.
I choose a spot that’s relatively far away, hidden beneath the shadow of a tree. For a long time, none of us do anything but mess around on our phones or listen to music. Peter shows me some new music he and his band have put together, and it’s a nice distraction from the anger I’m feeling. Screamo isn’t my genre by a longshot, but it perfectly sums up how I’m feeling tonight.
If there was a mosh pit nearby, you can bet your ass I’d be in the center, thrashing around with the best of them.
More and more employees file out as it gets closer to closing hours. Two women hug in the parking lot and then head off to their respective cars. As the blonde passes us, I give a nod of acknowledgement, trying to prove to her that we’re not a group of weird ass men hanging around in the middle of the night. She looks cautious, and hurries to her car. So much for that attempt.
At ten, the parking lot is empty except for Chris’s car. We’ve waited for about two hours, and there aren’t any signs that people are coming back. I unbuckle my seatbelt, which signals that it’s go time. The others do the same, and we round my car to the trunk. Inside are bags of spray paint, markers, and generally anything that could seriously fuck up someone’s car. I even went ahead and grabbed some messy food, like prepackaged spaghetti and soups.
This is only phase one, but this is the part the others have been looking forward to. Quinton approaches first, shaking the spray can to get it all mixed up. He then starts drawing all over Chris’s pretty new vehicle. Jordan and Peter also join in, keying the doors and spreading food all over it with gloved hands. I pull out my knife and get to work on the tires, slicing three of them and leaving the back left one alone.
It takes about twenty minutes, but by the time we finish, his car is fucked.
I can only laugh. On social media, he spent days bragging about the new ride, talking about how rich his parents were and flexing for all of his obnoxious little friends. Let’s see how much they want to ride around with him when he pulls up in this shitty bucket now.
I’m not done yet, though. Jordan hands me the tire iron and I hop up on the hood of the car.
“It’s time for the cherry on top,” I announce, and the guys start cheering. With all my strength, I bring down the tool onto his windshield. It immediately cracks, but that’s not enough. I continue to beat the hell out of it, relishing in the screeching alarm that sounds after the first hit.
A few moments later, Chris comes running out of the restaurant, eyes wide.
“What the fuck!” he shouts, racing towards up.
Smiling with glee, I hop off his car and meet him face to face. “How’s it going, Chris?” I ask.
“Are you fucking insane? What did you do to my car?”
“Only what’s fair,” I say with a shrug.
“What are you talking about?”
Instantly sick of his shit, I slam a punch into his gut. Chris doubles over, the wind knocked out of him. He falls to one knee, his hand planted on the cement to keep himself upright. “You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” I say. “You thought you could fuck with my little sister and there wouldn’t be any consequences, freshman? You thought you could get away with lying about her and letting everyone gang up on her? That’s where you fucked up.”
My kick comes swift, knocking him flat on his back. “Fuck,” he cries, holding his side.
“I’d feel sorry for you if it weren’t for the fact that you did all that to Logan. But you know the worst part? You made my little sister cry. Unluckily for you, I promised her that any guy that ever did that would cry ten times harder when I got finished with him.”
I grab a bulk-size container of strawberry jelly and raise it over my head. Chris looks up at me just as I tip it over, pouring it all over his head. He lets out a groan, his shirt and hair soaked in the sticky mess.
With my phone in my hand, recording, I say, “Look up at me, Chris.” He forces himself to meet my eye. “Tell everyone what you are or a lot worse will happen to you.”
For a moment, he says nothing. He looks like he’s about to cry, but that’s still not enough. Not after how much he and his friends hurt Logan. He deserves even worse, if I’m being honest.
“I’m a coward,” he mutters.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I want to hear.”
Confusion crosses his face. “I’m a bitch.”
The other guys laugh. I say, “Closer, but that’s not it either. What’d you call her? What’d you tell everyone she was?”
“I…” He swallows hard. “I’m a slut.”
“A slut that what?” I squat down and put the camera in his face. “Come on, Chris. Let’s hear it.”
“I’m a slut that…that fucked the football team.”
“Bingo!” Me and the guys cheer for him. Chris hands his head in shame. Satisfied, I close the camera app and slide my phone back in my pocket. “Alright, that should be it for tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’re going to go online and tell every single person that you lied. You lied because she wasn’t interested in you, and instead of acting like an adult, you threw a temper tantrum. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“What?”
Chris looks up at me. “I understand.”
“Good. As long as you do that, and never talk to my sister again, nobody has to see this video. The second you step out of line though, that’s your ass. All your boys will hear about how you fucked the football team. Does that sound like a fair deal?”
He nods weakly.
“Good. Let’s get out of here.” Jordan, Peter, and Quinton follow me as we head back to my car. Nobody says anything until we’re out of the parking lot. The second we leave, the four of us burst out in laughter. In my rear-view mirror, I say Chris push himself up from the ground and approach his car, pressing his forehead to the glass window.
Part of me wants to feel for him, but every time I start to have empathy, I imagine Logan. That bastard got exactly what he deserves, and he better follow every one of my instructions. Otherwise it’s going to get a lot worse for him.
Whatever it takes to make Logan feel better, I’m going to do it.
11
Logan
F or the past few days, I’ve hid in my dorm, wishing I could go back to the moment I met Chris and tell myself it isn’t worth it. If I knew that this would be the outcome, I never would’ve entertained him. Hell, I never would’ve even gone to the party with Julie. We’d stay inside, get to know each other better, and avoid anything to do with Chris.
But that’s not the reality. I have to face what he’s done and try not to let it get me down too much. That’s what he wants after all. He wants me to feel embarrassed, as embarrassed I made him feel, apparently, and he’s not afraid to lie or spread rumors to make that happen.
Hiding and never coming out is how he wins, and just like I was competitive with Zack when we went to play pool, I’m not going to let this guy win either.
On Monday, I take a long shower and make sure I look the best I can. I don’t anyone seeing how puffy my eyes have been from crying or how blotchy my skin is. To the outside world, I want to look tough as nails. No stupid guy can crack my armor or make me feel uncomfortable with myself. He’s the one that screwed up, not me.
In English, I wait for my classmate from last week to stare at me. I expect her to possibly give me a dirty look, buying into these rumors that have so quickly ruined my good time at school. Instead, she looks at me and smiles.
It catches me off guard, and I immediately think she’s being fake. But rather than ogling the school slut like she did last week, she immediately goes back to work on her laptop, tapping away like it’s nothing.
Weird.
A bit self-consciously, I glance around, but no one else is looking my way. Either some new scandal took over and people don’t care about me at all, or everyone’s been replaced with aliens. I’m kind of hoping for the latter. At least that way, no other girl is going through what I did.
“Okay class,” Professor Dawkins says, standing up from her desk. “I’ve reviewed your essays, and I’m going to hand them back. So many of you did very well, and I’m incredibly pleased with that.”
She begins calling out names, and we all head down to grab our papers. When I get mine, I see the A written in red on the paper, and I have to smile. “I see what you did there, Professor.”
She gives me a knowing wink, and I return to my desk, feeling just a little giddy with myself. I loved this book, and my stomach twists when I consider the similarities between me and Hester Prynne. I knew there was a reason I liked her as a protagonist so much.
Once class is over, I head out into the hallways and wait for Julie. She rounds the corner with some extra pep in her step. “What’s going on with you?” I ask when she’s close enough to answer.
“Didn’t you see Twitter?”
“Nope, I’ve been avoiding it on account of all the DMs and dick pics I’ve been getting,” I grumble.
“Fair enough.” She pulls her phone from her pocket and scrolls through tweets until she finds the right one. “Boom, read this.”
It’s from Chris. He starts it off saying that he’s sorry for what he said about me. He admits to lying and trying to get back at me, and that he was just pissed that I turned him down to focus on school. He knows it was wrong, and he wants to say sorry to me and every girl that’s ever gone through the same kind of bullshit. Chris ends it by saying that he’s going to take some time to learn how to manage his feelings better.
This reads like something a kid’s mom would make him write after scolding him for hours, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel warm inside.
I’ve been mentally steeling myself to always be referred to as the girl that fucked the football team and seeing that he’s apologized is a good first step. Of course, it doesn’t make up for the barrage of messages I’m still getting, but it’s nice knowing that all of the guys around him know that he was full of shit when he told them what I did. And any girl that considers dating him will see what he does when he loses his temper.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Julie grins. “I wonder what made him change his mind.”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, following her through the halls. We head back to our dorm across campus, and I collapse on my bed.
“I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
“Where are you going?” I ask, rolling over on my side.
“I’m gonna get some snacks. There’s another movie night coming up and I want to bring all the good treats.”
“Smart thinking,” I say.
Just as Julie heads out, she runs into Zack. He apologizes and slips around her, closing the door once she’s gone. I sit up and look at him, my heart beating just a little faster. Ever since we’ve started whatever this thing is that we’re doing, that’s been happening. Just thinking about him gets me all fluttery.
“You did this, didn’t you?” I ask.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
“Yeah, right. You made Chris apologize. You told me you were going to fix this, and then a few days later, he’s all over social media admitting to what he did. That was you, wasn’t it?”
A satisfied, knowing smile pulls at Zack’s lips. “Maybe.”
I stand up and throw myself into his arms, hugging him. “You didn’t have to do that, Zack.”
“Like hell I didn’t. You really thought I was gonna let that bastard hurt you like that and do nothing about it?”
Ever since we were kids, Zack took on the role of annoying protective older brother. He made sure nobody bothered me except for him. It’s nice to see that even now, he’s still keeping up with that position.
“I love you, Logan,” he says, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear and looking down into my eyes. “You know that, right?”
“I love you too.” I push up on my toes and plant a kiss on his lips.
“What was that for?”
“For everything you’ve done,” I shrug.
I don’t know what’s going to happen with Zack and I later on down the line. I love him more than I’ve loved anyone else before, but I know that things will eventually get complicated. I can’t imagine how Stephanie will react when she finds out, but something tells me that no matter how she takes the news, Zack will be there for me. He’s always been there for me, no matter what.
“You know you’re my favorite sister, right?” he says, brushing his nose against mine.
I roll my eyes and kiss him again, softer this time. “I’m your only sister.”
“Still. You’ll always be my favorite.”
THE END
Also by Evie Clark…
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