was a lot more vested in this than I was. But when Arden had informed me – not too nicely either – that she hadn't been allowed to do the experiment on her own, I'd felt almost guilty.
Now, thanks to her attitude, the guilt was fading fast. I said it again. "So?"
She sighed. "So let's just get it done already." She glanced toward the door of the lab. "And we need to be quick. I'm making cookies with my grandma at two-thirty."
Something inside me soured. Cookies with grandma, huh?
The image was way too sweet compared to the bitterness I'd left at home.
Arden and I – we ran in different circles – her with the smart kids and me with a crowd several times rougher. Still, we'd sat in plenty of the same classes during the last four years.
She never said much about her home life, but in that one statement, she told me more than I needed to know – more than I wanted to know.
Her life was soft, easy, and filled with sentimental bullshit. Cookies with grandma, home-baked casseroles, and a big, happy family – maybe a few aunts, some uncles, Christmas trees, Easter baskets, and other shit that I didn't know much about.
It was the kind of life I'd seen on TV, but never in person.
Still, it fit with Arden Weathers – with her prissy attitude and obsession with grades.
Now, I regretted coming in. "Sorry, I didn't know 'cookies' were on the line."
"Oh? So you've got something against cookies?"
"Me? Nah." At that moment, I almost hated her. She didn't know how good she had it. Probably she never would.
I replied, "Just people who make them."
"I hope you're talking about me," she bristled, "because if you mean my grandma—"
Cutting her off, I lifted the lighter to her face. Without bothering to flick it on, I asked, "You sure you don't need a light?"
She glared at the lighter and then at me. "Trust me. I'm sure."
Like a total dick, I flicked it on, anyway. The flame wasn't close, but she got the idea. I was tired of her bullshit, of her perfect life, and her talk of grandma's cookies.
Her mouth thinned as she eyed the small flame. With all the prissiness of a schoolmarm, she said, "You know that's not allowed, right?"
So what? I did a lot of things that weren't allowed. But hey, at least she'd stopped talking about the fucking cookies.
Forcing a laugh, I flicked off the lighter and lowered it to my side. My laugh sounded fake, just like it felt. "Relax," I scoffed, "I'm not gonna burn your cookies."
She stared at me like I'd just asked for a blow job in the hall. "I don't get it," she said. "If you were just gonna be a jackass, why'd you bother to show up?"
The answer to this was easy. "Because I told you I would." Hell, I might regret it, but I had promised. So here I was. For all the good it was doing.
She shook her head. "So?"
"So I always do what I say."
"Oh, really?" Her mouth tightened. "Do you always do it seventeen minutes late?"
"Better late than never."
She stared up at me, like I was puzzle she was trying to figure out. I didn't like it. And I especially didn't like it when she said, "Has it ever occurred to you that if you just applied yourself, you'd be getting all A's?"
Sure. I'd thought about it. But unlike Arden, with her life of Grandma's cookies and who-knows-what else, I had bigger problems. And bigger plans, too.
Those plans didn't include college.
But a girl like Arden Weathers – she'd never get it. So all I said was, "Has it ever occurred to you that it's none of your business?"
"But what about college?" she persisted.
"What about it?"
"Aren't you worried you won't get in?"
What a joke. "Hell no." Me? Forget college. At this rate, I'd be lucky to graduate from high school.
I was only taking the advanced courses at all because they offered more grade points than the others, which meant I could blow off more classwork and make it up on the tests.
I wasn't stupid. I just had other things on my mind – and no plans to spend money and time paying for a so-called education.
The only reason I remained in school at all was because my dick of an older brother promised to kick my ass if I flunked or dropped out.
He didn't scare me. By now, I was pretty sure I could take him. But