Anyone But Her

Free Bonus Chapter: High School Days (Kenna)

The P.E. substitute teacher had put us in the back row for warm-ups, so of course Stacy took the opportunity to jab her elbow into Wren's eye.

My answering shove was instinctive; I shook my head chidingly when Stacy, rubbing her shoulder, turned to me in confusion. As her confusion was swallowed by outrage, I sent a pointed nod in the direction of the sub. At that, Stacy relaxed. Making her believe we were on the same team was always easy—too easy.

However, it had gotten more and more difficult to face the person who called herself my best friend. She reminded me of what I could become...

And what I already was.

Desperate not to show a speck of concern for Wren, I had clung to Stacy's reactions. Now my attention went where it never failed to go: to the most dangerous girl in school. The one who just that morning had responded to "Shut your enormous mouth!" with "How big does it get in your dreams?" The one who made me want to scream myself into permanent silence. The one who terrified me more than my father. The one and only.

Had a minute passed? Two? Wren was staring straight ahead as though nothing had happened, her movements as smooth as everyone else's. The skin of her eye was a painful-looking red, yet she didn't appear to notice. It was only at the end of those ten or fifteen minutes that she yawned and gave a sudden stretch—smashing the back of her hand, knuckles-first, into Stacy's nose.

Wren's discreet glance down at her "YES HOMO" tee was, I assumed, a quick scan for blood splatter.

"Why didn't you push her?" Stacy groaned, clutching the rapidly swelling area.

I shrugged, pretending to fix my hair. "Do I care if she gets in trouble? It's not like you're bleeding. And anyway, you shouldn't hit someone without expecting to get hit back. It's a risky way to live..."

Later, as I ignored everyone at my cafeteria table to focus on lunch—a salad, because Dad would ask and he would know if I lied—my eyes automatically sought out Wren.

She was already staring at me.

She mouthed four very clear words the moment our eyes met.

"Your. Friends. Are. Trash."

The "and so are you" was heavily implied.

Taunting me for my "enormous mouth" comment, maybe attempting to disgust me, she slowly stuffed half of her sandwich into her mouth.

The only result: my burning face.

She turned her back on me, interest lost. Grinning, Hunter pinched one of Wren's bulging cheeks while their other friends laughed.

I turned to a blank notebook page. Normally complex equations calmed me down, but not today. Wren paused beside my desk.

"Do you know what that word means?" she asked, tilting her head.

It was an innocent question that nonetheless made my blood boil. In fact, my anger only seemed to cool when Wren matched it. She sometimes gave me a chance to be civil, and I always made her regret it.

"Go back to your alphabet blocks," I snapped. "Stop polluting my air."

She sighed, continuing toward her desk with a ramming motion. "Just one time I'd like to grab my pointiest shoe..."

No force, no burden could crush Wren Castile. Compared to her, I was a mere feather.

In that way, we were soothingly consistent, the two of us.