Divine Vices (4 page)

“Cassie.”

“That
short for Cassandra?”

I
nodded.

“Beautiful
name. Suits you.”

My
nerves had already formed a knot in my stomach the size of a golf ball when I
first saw him coming over to us, but talking with him left me feeling as if I
had swallowed a softball. Being that I’ve always had a predisposition towards
shyness around unfamiliar people, I had assumed I knew all there was to know
about nerves. This, though, was not timidity. I wasn’t tongue-tied, just on
edge. Like the dreadful, yet exhilarating rush you get when the cart of the
rollercoaster stops at the top, leaving you in anticipation just before the drop.

Or
perhaps the dread was really in seeing Stacy heading out of the locker room
with her salacious gaze homing in on Jack like a cheetah preparing to take down
an antelope.

“Well,
what do we have here?” she said as she came over to his side, running her
acrylic nailed fingertips down his shoulder to his sculpted bicep.

“Nothing
that concerns you,” said Gwen.

“Don’t
be rude in the presence of company. Very unbecoming of you,” Stacy said, giving
Jack her free hand. “Stacy MacArthur. And might I say, as student body vice
president and head varsity cheerleader, it is my duty to welcome all new
students to New Haven High, and I take my duties very seriously. So if there’s
anything, and I mean
anything
you need, I’m your go-to girl.”

My
gag reflex was nearly tested as Jack smiled back all too pleasantly.

“Aren’t
you an accommodating creature?”

“Oh,
you have no idea,” she said, hooking her arm around his. “Please, let me
introduce you to some of our more-worthwhile classmates.”

“I’ll
see you guys later,” Jack said to us without so much as a glance back in our
general direction.

“That
was fun while it lasted,” I said after they were out of hearing distance,
turning my attention to fixing my ponytail.

“Can
you believe her?” Gwen hissed, watching Stacy put her hands all too generously
on every part of Jack that she could. “Does she have any shame?”

“No,
but that is that,” I said.

“Why
didn’t you tell me you had already talked to him? You can tell he likes you,”
said Gwen. “And I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to actually respond
to him the same.”

“I’m
pretty sure he’s got his hands full right now, and if not, then it’s only a
matter of time before he does,” I replied, pointing to nearly every other girl
in the gym whose fullest attention was centered on Jack.

“Come
on, he can do better than Stacy MacArthur. Go over there and teach her a
lesson,” said Gwen, pushing me forward.

“Sorry,
but I really don’t feel like demeaning myself in the same way that Stacy has.
If getting a guy’s attention means having to publicly play doctor with him, I’m
gonna have to pass. I can do better than that.”

“Good
for you,” said Ian. “It’s nice to see a girl with dignity around here.”

Gwen
reached across me and slapped him in the shoulder. “Hey! What’s that supposed
to mean?”

“You’re
kidding, right? Everyone here resorts to throwing themselves at whoever their
crush of the moment is with the slightest hope that their affections will be
reciprocated.”

“
Reciprocated
?
Who talks like that?” cracked Gwen.

“It’s
called a vocabulary. Maybe if you picked up a real dictionary instead of one
for text messaging acronyms, then maybe you could keep up,” Ian quipped.

“Ha-ha,
why don’t you go tell that one to your girlfriend? Oh, wait, that’s right.
You’ve never had one,” Gwen countered.

“Yeah,
and that’s called having standards. Pardon me for not having any interest in
being in a relationship with someone who's already been passed around through
half of the guys in our class.”

“That’s
sexist!” snapped Gwen.

“How?”

“Because,
guys like you make women feel inferior. And that standard is complete horse
pucky! If a man has countless partners, he’s honored with the distinguished
label of ‘Casanova,’ but if a woman has even a quarter of those encounters,
she’s immediately deemed as an ‘Untouchable.’”

“She’s
got a point,” I interjected.

“Yeah,
and if I was in your position, I wouldn’t give Casanova a second thought,
either,” clarified Ian. “Sorry, but I don’t want to waste my time and
affections in a relationship that has a shorter shelf life than sushi.
Everybody’s in this fast-food nation mindset where they need immediate
satisfaction, and when things hit a rough patch or just become boring, they
simply pack up and move on in the hopes of finding something different that’s
more fulfilling and exciting.”

“So
I’m not allowed to test out the waters to see what agrees with me and what
doesn’t?” asked Gwen, even more perturbed at his blatant offense aimed at
people like herself. “Sometimes it takes trial and error.”

I
leaned back so that I was resting against the row behind us, giving the two the
opportunity to be face-to-face for their war of words, in the hopes that I
wouldn’t be dragged in to settle the score. Oh, wishful thinking.

“Okay,
Cassie, how many guys have you dated?” asked Gwen.

I
shrugged.

“Seriously,
how many?”

“I
don’t know,” I said, seeing the answer would not suffice. “Two.”

“And
did you get anything out of them?”

“Other
than free dinners and trips to the theater?” I joked lightly.

“Exactly,”
said Ian, eyeing me rather surreptitiously.

“What
about Minnie?” suggested Gwen, turning to Ian. “She’s had her eye on you for
some time now. What’s wrong with her?”

I
couldn’t wait for his response. I immediately laughed. “Sorry, but... Minnie?
Really?”

“What?”

“Are
you kidding?” I said. “Can you honestly picture those two together?”

“Thank
you,” said Ian, relieved. “Talk about as far from my type as humanly possible.”

“What?
She’s cute... in a kind of, um, understated way,” Gwen replied.

I
laughed again. Minnie wasn’t unattractive, but considering her exceptionally
short and rather stout frame that garnered clothes similar to that of a bag
lady’s, Ian would look like a ridiculously well-dressed beanpole beside her.
“Gwen, I can assure you that matchmaking is not your forte.”

“Not
to mention that Minnie’s a gossipmonger. That’s the last thing I need,”
clarified Ian.

“She
is not,” rebutted Gwen.

“Seriously?”
I cracked. “She works with Trish and you for the school paper. The three of you
together are a deadly combination of scandalous skills.”

“Yow,
look at those muscles!” exclaimed Gwen suddenly, seeing Jeff Mundy shooting
baskets at the free throw line in a fitted wife-beater shirt.

He
looked our way and cast a smile at her as he took the next shot. Nothing by
net.

“Damn,
he’s fine,” she growled delightfully, taking in his firm, toned, towering build
and messy, textured cropped blonde hair.

“I
swear, she has the attention span of a hummingbird,” Ian laughed.

“I’ll
be outside,” I said to Gwen as the locker room began to fill with a surplus of
toxic perfume combinations.

I
headed out into the gym and took a place by the main doors, seeing Ian exit
from the locker room as well.

“Hey,”
he said on arrival, “Coach Whitmore asked if he could speak with you. He said
he’d be out in a minute.”

“Oh,
great,” I deflated, shuffling back across the gym. “Now what?”

I
took a seat at the bottom of the bleachers just outside the guys’ locker room,
praying that Coach would make it fast. I had lunch next, and my stomach was
growling.

“So
what do you think of New Haven’s stock of chicks? Happy hunting grounds, or
what?” echoed a voice from inside the locker room. It was Luke Briar, a total
hothead and lady-hunter.

“I
don’t think our man here has to do any hunting himself. Seems dinner and
dessert have served themselves. Watch out for Stacy though. She’s a total
man-eater,” said another, who I assumed was his friend, Nate.

“Since
when was
no-strings attached
ever a bad thing? She’s hot.”

“No
way in hell she gives it for free. She’ll have you on your knees begging for
mercy by the time she cuts you loose. Remember Ken Higgins? That poor guy
hasn’t recovered from her wrath, and it’s been a year.”

“What
about Cassie?” asked another voice.

I
immediately recognized it. Jack.

“Foster?”
laughed Luke. “You’re really barkin’ up the wrong tree there, Matthews.”

“Seriously?
Like
playing-for-the-other-team
wrong?”

“Nah,
but no one here has had any luck with her.”

“Doesn’t
look much like a prig to me,” replied Jack.

“Good
luck with that then,” said Nate. “It’s still a wonder how the hell Callaghan
got with that.”

“What?
The magician? Are they a
thing
?”

“Who
knows? My guess, probably not. But they’re pretty chummy.”

“No
way she’s with him. Cassie’s more spirited than she may seem. Give it time,”
said Jack. “She’s a tease if anything, which is always more promising than a
pure prude.”

“So
she’s just a tiger that needs to get stroked right?” laughed Luke.

“I
like the sound of that,” added Nate. “Though I wouldn’t mind Meyer either. Bit
of an easier prey if you ask me.”

“Too
easy,” said Jack. “Girls like that are the ones you can never shake. They cling
to you like cellophane.”

I didn’t even bother to wait for Coach Whitmore. I
exited through the side doors of the gym even before the bell dismissed us.
Suddenly with a complete loss of appetite, I ditched the thought of lunch and
just grabbed a snack from the vending machine before heading to the library.

When
I closed my locker door, Jack’s frame appeared directly beside me.

“Hey,
stranger.” He had the perfect smile, which made it all the more tempting for me
to want to drive my fist into his mouth.

“Hey.”

“I
just wanted to thank you for your advice. I really appreciate it.”

“No
problem,” I replied with a tone far from cordial. I might as well have cussed
at him, because everything else about my demeanor implied that I wanted to.

“So,
there are some people who are heading to Deer Park’s shopping district after
school. You in?”

“I’ve
already got plans.”

“Come
on, are you really gonna leave me to fend for myself in a pack of wolves?” It
was easy to see why every other girl in school saw Jack as New Haven’s George
Clooney, because he radiated so much natural charm and appeal that he could
sell ice to a penguin if presented with the challenge.

“I
saw you with Stacy. Seems you can handle yourself just fine.”

“What?
You don’t like a little friendly competition?” he cracked.

My
level of tolerance just dropped down passed E, and with that last remark in
hand, I left him at the lockers. Unfortunately, I could hear his steps coming
up after me.

“Hey,
relax. I was just teasing,” he called out from behind.

That
was it.

“Funny,
because I thought that was supposed to be my roll,” I said, cocking my head
over my shoulder to gage his expression as I continued down the hall.

His
eyes gave way when he connected the dots.

“Another
helpful hint, voices tend to carry in the locker rooms, so my advice would be
to keep it down,” I said, still not bothering to even so much as slow down on
his account.

“Oh,
come on, it was just guy-talk. You actually think I meant those things?” he
said, having to speed up to a jogging pace to keep up with me.

“I
wouldn’t know, because I don’t
know
you,” I said. “But thank you for
that incredible insight. It really has given me clarity about your character.”

“Which
is?”

“You’re
gorgeous-” I began.

“I
like where this seems to be going,” he said grinningly.

“-Which
means that along with your charisma and flirtatious nature, you pretty much
know how to get everything you want. So to continue feeding your narcissistic
tendencies, you aim your sights on the type of females that most would deem as
‘unattainable’ for one degree or another, just so you can maintain the delusion
that the world and all its inhabitants can be wrapped around your perfect
little finger.”

When
I heard his footsteps come to a halt from behind, curiosity urged me to stop as
well. Jack looked equal parts dumbfounded and amused.

“Well,
aren’t you a piece of work?” he said, slowly walking towards me.

I
kept my ground and stood square with him, looking up into his eyes with a
callously controlled gaze. “Are you honestly going to tell me that I’m wrong?”

“No,
not if you tell me that I wasn’t wrong about you.”

“Yeah,
not gonna happen.”

“You
saying you’ve honestly convinced yourself that you’re not a tease?”

My
eyes felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets. “I beg your
pardon?”

“Apparently
you haven’t crossed paths with a mirror lately, because if you had, you’d see
all the signs for yourself,” he remarked with evident condescension.

“So
much for that being just ‘guy-talk,’” I cracked. “Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi, please
educate me with your higher powers of intellect.”

Apparently,
my unwillingness to back down was a new sight for Jack, because his mouth
curled with admiration as I stood with my hands hooked on my hips.

“For
starters, your clothes,” he said, looking me over from head to toe.

I
glanced down in amusement. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t parading around in
sleazy streetwalker-apparel to imply anything of a falsely promiscuous nature.”

“No,
but you’re still wearing fitted clothing, with a fair amount of skin on display
around the neckline just shy of provocative,” he pointed out as his eyes
trailed down. “Not to mention you’re wearing fashionable heeled boots, despite
the fact that you’re tall enough to not need them out of insecurity over your
height. You also wear make-up, and not in the way that half the cheerleading
squad does that requires paint thinner to remove the gallon of concealer and
foundation they’ve caked onto their faces.”

“Maybe
I’m just better at applying my make-up that you can’t tell,” I commented.

“You’re
really going to play this with me?” he said, knowing that I was going to make
him work for every ounce of his argument. “All right, it’s all over your face.”

“Make-up?”

“Freckles.
Subtle signs of freckles across your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. I
wouldn’t be able to see that if you were painting your face, which means that
the make-up you bother to apply isn’t about trying to cover up flaws in your
complexion. It’s all about the eyes, your best feature. Smoky makeup, cat
eyeliner, and a few coats of mascara on a woman implies that she wants the
attention. She wouldn’t go through the trouble of applying it if she didn’t
need to, unless she wanted people to notice.”

Son
of a...!

“So
what you’re saying is that a woman isn’t allowed to look her best without an
agenda?”

Jack’s
condescension had taken full control as he laxly leaned against the wall beside
us with a smirk that made me want to slap it clean off his face. “No, but when
you’re naturally attractive, it’s a logical assumption for others to believe
the extra effort has to be for some purpose. It’s not because you’re trying to
compete with your red-headed friend back there, since it’s obvious you two
don’t share the same taste in men. It is in that fact I considered the
possibility that you and Callaghan were an item, but when that notion was
eliminated, it was clear that there was only one assumption left. And I was
right. You’re a tease, in one form or another.”

“Just
so I’m clear on all of this, how exactly does that theory work? You don’t know
the first thing about me, or my temperament,” I said rather patronizingly.

“Take
it from me; girls aren’t the only ones to gossip. My inquiries into you were
supported by the help of our fellow male classmates. And word around town is
that you seem to be relatively easygoing with your friends, but outside of that
close-knit circle, you’re perceived as being rather passive and possibly
evasive toward guys in general.”

I
couldn’t help but to laugh. “That’s what they said, huh? ‘Passive’ and ‘evasive’?”

“No,
not exactly verbatim, but you get the gist of it.”

“And
may I ask as to why you’re so curious as to
inquire
about me in the
first place?”

“Just
trying to figure you out.”

“Well,
I’d be more than happy to oblige you,” I said, moving in closer to him
puckishly. “I’m an Aquarius. I like art, classic rock, muscle cars, and long
walks on the beach. And I don’t like you.”

“Why?”

“Would
you like me to list my reasons chronologically?”

His
cockiness didn’t subside. “You think you’re better than me?”

“I
know
I am.”

“Remind
me again, who is the arrogant one here?” he asked in jest.

“You
may physically be New Haven’s hot new commodity, but I don’t judge a book by
its cover. And as you ever so eloquently pointed out before, Gwen and I don’t
share the same taste in men. So despite the fact she’s wasting her time with
entertaining any ideas about you, you should consider it a waste of your time
waiting for me to come around.”

He
couldn’t help but to move in nearer as I continued to stare at him
bewitchingly. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes,
it is,” I said, closing the gap between us, “because, Mr. Matthews, I’m not
impressed by your perfectly sculpted façade. I care to judge a person by their
substance. And there is one thing for certain in this world that I’ve learned
about any type of bad boy.”

“And
that is?”

“Despite
their lavishly decorated wrapping paper, the only thing a girl’s going to find
inside is a massive heap of coal.”

“Well,
there’s always a price to pay for being naughty,” he smirked.

“A
beautiful disappointment? Thanks, but no thanks. You’re not worth the price for
Hell’s admission,” I said leeringly as I pulled away, proceeding to my next
class.