Lena v Tanner
Chapter 12.5
Lena v Tanner
Lena
Handle Kinsley. That’s what Rory says to me. Not help me. Not come with me. Not please make this stop. She looks at me with cafeteria milk dripping from her hair, Jace’s jacket hanging off her shoulders, her face pale but steady, and she says, “Handle Kinsley.”
And then she walks away with him. With Jace. Of all people. I almost go after her anyway.
Every instinct in my body screams at me to follow, because Rory is not okay. I know she’s not okay. I know her face when she is pretending. I know the way her mouth gets soft and still when she is trying not to cry and the way her shoulders straighten like if she makes herself rigid enough, nothing can get through.
But then Kinsley makes the smallest sound behind me. A breathy little almost-victory noise. Like she thinks she still won something. I turn around.
Kinsley is standing in the middle of the cafeteria with one hand pressed to her chest like she is the victim of a tragedy. Her tray is upside down on the floor. Mashed potatoes, milk, napkins, and whatever orange cafeteria crime she dumped all over my best friend are splattered between us.
The whole room is watching. Good. I want witnesses.
“What,” I say, “is wrong with you?”
Kinsley blinks at me. Her mouth parts like she’s shocked I am speaking to her this way. That’s cute.
“I said it was an accident,” she snaps. “God, Lena What do you want from me? I tripped.”
Somebody near the football table snorts. Kinsley’s eyes flash toward the sound, then back to me. “I did.”
“No, you performed,” I say. “Badly.”
A few people make quiet sounds. Not quite laughter, not yet. They’re still deciding whether it is safe. Cowards.
Kinsley lifts her chin. “I don’t know why you’re acting like I did something to you.”
“You dumped an entire tray of trash and food on Rory in front of half the school.”
“I said it was an accident.”
“You also said your foundation matched your neck freshman year, and noone believed that lie either.”
This time, someone laughs. A real one. Kinsley’s face reddens. Glory. Let her feel it, let her stand in the center of a room and realize people are looking at her for once, not with admiration, but with interest and judgment and that ugly little hunger she has always loved using on other people.
She looks around, realizing the shift. Then her eyes narrow.
“You’re just mad because your pathetic little friend came back and immediately started throwing herself at every guy with a varsity jacket.”
The room stills. There it is. That little mean-girl blade. The one she thinks she can slide between ribs and twist before anyone catches her hand. I step closer. Not fast or dramatic, just close enough that she has to look at me.
“Careful, Kinsley.”
Her smile twitches. “Or what?”
“Or I stop being polite.”
“You were being polite?”
“Compared to where I could go? Absolutely.”
Her friends hover behind her, suddenly fascinated by the floor. Smart girls.
Kinsley crosses her arms. “I’m not scared of you, Lena.”
“You should be.”
The words come out calm and that makes her blink. I am not yelling or crying or making a scene. I am making a promise.
“You don’t get to rewrite Saturday night because Jace embarrassed you,” I say. “You don’t get to take whatever problem you have with him and dump it all over Rory because she’s convenient. And you definitely don’t get to act like you’re the one being wronged when everyone in this cafeteria saw exactly what you did.”
Kinsley’s nostrils flare.
“She knew what she was doing.”
“With what?” I ask. “Existing?”
“She went upstairs with him.”
“So did I.” Her mouth snaps shut. I smile, not friendly. “Funny how that part keeps disappearing.”
A murmur moves through the cafeteria.
Kinsley’s eyes dart around again. I can see it happening. The story shifting. Not gone or fixed but less clean than she wanted it to be. Finally. Let it get messy.
“She didn’t do anything,” I say, louder now. “Jace showed her where the bathroom was because the downstairs one was occupied by people who apparently thought the toilet was a romantic getaway. I was with her. Then we left. That is it.”
Kinsley laughs, but it shakes. “Sure.”
“You want to be mad at somebody because your boyfriend dumped you?” I ask. “Be mad at your boyfriend.”
“He is not my—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I correct. “Whatever.”
The cafeteria reacts softly. Kinsley’s face twists. For a second, I think she might actually lunge at me. Honestly, part of me hopes she does. Then someone steps up beside me. Too close.
I turn, ready to tell whoever it is to back up before I remove their spleen. And find Tanner grinning down at Kinsley like this is the best lunch period of his life.
“What, you’re on the side of the freaks now?” She asks.
I stare at him. Because no. Absolutely not. Not Tanner. Not now. Kinsley looks just as thrown as I am.
“Hell no,” he says. “I’m just not on the side of someone who acts like a jealous kid.”
Tanner lifts both hands. I look at him again. He winks. At me. I hate this school.
Kinsley’s expression hardens. “Stay out of it, Tanner.”
“Normally, I would,” he says. “Big fan of watching girls fight. Very educational.”
“Gross,” I snap.
He glances at me, grin widening. “See? Educational.”
I don’t know whether to slap him or have him medically evaluated.
“But,” Tanner continues, turning back to Kinsley, “you did kind of look pathetic.”
Kinsley goes still and the cafeteria goes quieter. That word lands. Pathetic. Not cruel. Not mean. Not jealous. Pathetic. Kinsley can survive being called a lot of things. I’m not sure she knows how to survive that one. Her eyes glisten for half a second before fury covers it.
“Oh my God. This is so stupid. I tripped.” she says. “Y’all have fun cleaning this up,” she says, stepping back from the mess on the floor. “I’m not going to stand here and let you gang up on me.”
Then she turns and storms out of the cafeteria, her friends scattering after her like nervous birds.
For a second, nobody moves. Then the cafeteria starts breathing again. Voices rise. Chairs scrape. Someone laughs too loudly. Someone else immediately starts retelling what just happened, probably wrong.
“This place is exhausting,” I say.
“Yeah.” Tanner says from beside me, scratching the back of his neck.
I turn to him. He’s still grinning. Of course he is.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Standing up for justice.”
“You wouldn’t recognize justice if it hit you with a school bus.”
His grin does not even flicker. “Maybe not, but I’d recognize you.”
I blink. No sir. Nope. Absolutely not.
“Do not flirt with me after helping create the apocalypse.”
His eyebrows lift. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
I stare at him. He looks delighted. Like my irritation is a treat.
I point one finger at his chest. “Listen to me carefully. I do not know what game you’re playing, but Rory is not a game. If you, Jace, Beckett, or any of your emotionally stunted little sports-table goblins do anything else to hurt her, I will make your lives unpleasant in ways you cannot currently imagine.”
His grin softens at the edges. It’s still there, it just changes.
“That was kind of hot.”
I close my eyes. “Lord, give me strength.”
“I think He did,” Tanner says. “And then He gave you glasses.”
I open my eyes. He is still smiling. Dont feed his ego, walk away. I should really walk away.
Instead, I say, “You are exhausting.”
“Yeah,” he says. “But I’m fun.”
“You’re a warning label with hair.”
That gets a real laugh out of him. Not his usual stupid party laugh. A real one. For some reason, it annoys me more. I turn on my heel and head for the cafeteria doors.
“Where are you going?” he calls.
“To find Rory.”
“Need backup?”
I stop and look over my shoulder. He is still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“From you?” I ask. “Absolutely not. And by the way, the baseball team has a better shot than you. So you should give it up.”
Then I leave. But I feel him watching me the whole way out. And I hate that I notice.
Tanner
I’ve always loved a good cafeteria disaster. People pretend like they don’t, but everyone does. That’s why the whole room goes dead quiet before the laughter hits. That little pause right after something terrible happens? That’s everyone deciding if they’re allowed to enjoy it.
Most of the time, they are. This time, though, the whole thing gets complicated. Cuz Rory is standing there soaked in milk and trash with her hands pressed to her chest, and for once, even I know it is not funny.
Not really. Kins meant to do it. Everyone knows Kins meant to do it. The fake trip was embarrassingly bad. I’ve seen freshmen in fall play auditions lie better than that.
Jace moves first. Captain Hero. Prince of Good Timing. Big dramatic jacket moment. Beck moves too. That’s more interesting. He is up before the tray even fully hits the floor. I see it because I am watching him. I’ve been watching him since Saturday, actually, cuz he’s been acting weird as hell and I like knowing things before people tell me things.
But Jace gets there first. Jace yells. Jace covers her. Jace leads her out.
Beck just stands there looking like he swallowed a tire iron. That part is pretty funny but what happens next is better. Lena Pierce turns around.
Now, I know Lena in the way everybody knows everybody at this school. She’s Rory’s friend. Smart. Pretty. Glasses. Braids. Always looks like she is two seconds away from calling someone’s mother and filing a complaint with supporting documentation.
I didn’t know she could look like that. Like she’s decided violence is too good for Kinsley and public humiliation will do. She asks Kins what is wrong with her, and the whole cafeteria leans in.
I lean in too. Obviously. Kinsley tries the innocent accident thing. Bad move. Lena cuts her down so clean I almost clap. Then Kinsley makes it worse. She says something about Rory throwing herself at varsity jackets, and even I can feel the air get bitter.
That is when I get up. Not because I care, let’s be clear. I’m not suddenly a ‘good person’ because Kinsley picked the wrong target at lunch. I get up because Lena looks like a live wire, and I want to stand close enough to see if she burns.
That’s all. I move beside her. She turns on me like I’d hoped she would. And that, right there, is when I realize something deeply inconvenient. Lena Pierce is gorgeous when she is furious.
Not cute. Not pretty in the normal hallway kinda way. Gorgeous. Sharp eyes. Chin lifted. Shoulders squared. Her entire body practically daring the world to try her. It hits me somewhere low. I grin because that’s what I do when I don’t know what else to do.
Kinsley tries to bait me too so I shut her down quick. Lena stares at me like I’ve personally offended her. Worth it.
Kinsley tells me to stay out of it but I don’t. Mostly cuz Lena’s still looking at me, and apparently I like that. This is new information.
I call Kinsley pathetic. That one works better than I expect.
The room shifts again. People hear it differently coming from me, which is stupid, but people are stupid. Kinsley can dismiss Lena as Rory’s loyal friend. She can’t dismiss me as easily because everyone knows I’m usually on the side with popcorn.
She storms out. A decent exit but not her best.
Then Lena turns on me. I am prepared for gratitude but that is the opposite of what I get.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Standing up for justice.”
Her face says she would rather eat glass than believe that. Fair. Thing is, I don’t really believe it either.
I mean, Kinsley is wrong. Sure. Objectively. Publicly. Hilariously badly. But that’s not why I stepped in. I stepped in cuz Lena looked untouchable and I wanted her to look at me. And now she is. And she looks like she is deciding where to hide my body. Interesting.
“You wouldn’t recognize justice if it hit you with a school bus,” she says.
That makes me laugh. Not because it’s that funny. Cuz she is. Fast, mean and completely unimpressed. I don’t usually have to work this hard for attention. I kinda like it.
“Maybe not,” I tell her. “But I’d recognize you.”
Her whole face does this tiny thing. Not a blush. Not even close. More like she can’t believe I have the nerve to exist this loudly near her. It might be better than a blush.
“Do not flirt with me after helping create the apocalypse,” she says.
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
She stares at me like I have failed an exam she did not give me. Then she points at my chest. I look down at her finger. It is very close to touching me. I wouldn’t hate it if it did.
“Listen to me carefully,” she says. “I do not know what game you’re playing, but Rory is not a game.”
Okay. That lands a little. Not cuz I suddenly grow a conscience, let’s not be dramatic. But cuz she says it like she means it with every bone in her body and, technically, Rory kinda is the center of a game.
“If you, Jace, Beckett, or any of your emotionally stunted little sports-table goblins do anything else to hurt her, I will make your lives unpleasant in ways you cannot currently imagine.”
Emotionally stunted little sports-table goblins. I’ve been called worse. Never better.
“That was kind of hot,” I say.
Her eyes close like she is praying for me to get hit by lightning. “Lord, give me strength.”
“I think He did,” I say. “And then He gave you glasses.”
She opens her eyes again. For one second, I think she might smile but she doesn’t. But I think she almost wants to, which is nearly the same thing and much more satisfying.
“You are exhausting,” she says.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “But I’m fun.”
“No. You’re a warning label with hair.”
That one gets me. A real laugh punches out before I can make it sound cooler. She turns and walks away like she has won something. She probably has.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
“To find Rory.”
“Need backup?”
She stops and looks over her shoulder.
The cafeteria lights catch on her glasses. Her braids fall over one shoulder. She looks annoyed, beautiful, and completely uninterested in being impressed by me.
“From you?” she says. “Absolutely not. And by the way, the baseball team has a better shot than you. So you should give it up.”
Then she leaves. I watch her go. I know I should probably be thinking about the bet. Or Jace. Or Beck looking like he is one bad comment away from punching a locker clean off its hinges. But mostly, I am thinking about Lena Pierce. Which is annoying. Because I only stepped in to get her attention. And now that I have it, I have the strangest feeling I may have just made myself her problem.
I grin to myself. This could be fun.
But…. Baseball?
