Page 11 of Strange Love

I shrug, “Maybe she’s trying to move on with her life.”

Tiffany scoffs again. “Yeah, right, like that’s even possible for someone like her.” She leans in, her expression turning sour. “I heard that she joined some bizarre cult while she was abducted, and when she came back, her parents had split up, and her younger sister transformed into a complete recluse.”

None of her accounts of what happened make sense. Since she started her sentence with “I heard,” I’m not inclined to believe much of it anyway.

“According to you, she was kidnapped. If that’s true, then I doubt she joined anything voluntarily,“ I add.

“Whatever.” Tiffany sighs. “She’s still weird. She was, like, homeschooled for a long time or something because when she got back, she was a total mental case.”

I’ve tuned out Tiffany’s ramblings when Landry returns to the group.

“How’d it go, Loverboy?” I tease.

He releases a sigh and shakes his head back and forth, “Crashed and burned. She was nice about it, though.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Tiffany offers. “Going anywhere near that girl is social suicide.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a shot,” Garrison declares. “That girl is smokin'. Plus, I could use a challenge.”

“You’re disgusting,” Tiffany adds with a sneer. “She’s not even that cute.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I say, brushing off her comments. “Let’s get to class.”

My morning classes fly by with the same teachers and group of students I’ve known for the past five years. I work out with the team in the weight room during first period, then head to biology, algebra, and Spanish before getting a break for lunch. The strange thing is how often the girl in the pink dress creeps into my thoughts throughout the first part of the day. Having been the star of many rumors and gossip myself, I hardly believe Tiffany’s account of the past, but it’s obvious this girl has been through something. I’m genuinely curious about Ivy Owens. What exactly happened to her?

We can’t leave campus for lunch for the first two weeks of school. Something about getting into the rhythm of the school day and assuring we won’t return from lunch late. It happens anyway after the first two weeks, so it’s not a practical rule. Still, that’s why the entire high school is currently stuck on campus.

As we enter the cafeteria, I notice that nothing has changed from last year, not that I expected it to. The lunchroom is divided into the same distinct groups. The jocks from the various sports teams congregate in one section. The guys from the hockey team always sit together. Nearby, other athletes from various teams huddle together.

In the back corner of the room, the goths sit in their usual spot. Their all-black attire, dark hair, and heavy black eyeliner set them apart from the rest of the students. Most of them spend their days with permanent scowls on their faces as if high school is the most hellish place on the planet. They aren’t entirely wrong.

Across the room, a few nerds sneak into the computer lab to eat their lunch despite the rule expressing the opposite. They will most likely play some games on the school’s new system.

The brains prefer to sit outside during lunch, where they can soak up some sunlight and convert it to Vitamin D. I’m pretty sure they’re reciting poetry and working on equations or some shit. I admire their dedication to academics; I have that same dedication to hockey.

By the windows sits a group of stoners who’ve already gotten high before lunch. They howl at their ridiculous jokes and munch on snacks from brown paper bags. Every once in a while, they get a decent game of hacky sack going, but it’s usually short-lived.

And then there is the new girl: Ivy Owens. She sits near the stoners at the end of the table, but she isn’t part of their group. She doesn’t appear to be part of any group. In fact, no one notices her at all. She keeps to herself as if trying to become as small as possible. Even though we’ve never spoken, I would guess she’d vanish completely if she could.

I observe her actions as she pulls a sandwich and an apple from her lunch box and places them on the table before her. She takes small, precise bites, never looking up from her food once. She’s very deliberate in her movements as if it’s simply another task to be completed before moving on to the next. She glances up as someone moves in her direction.

A goth girl confidently approaches and sits down across from her. Most girls I know would scoff and ignore someone like the dark stranger, but Ivy greets the girl with a warm smile, relief evident on her face to have some company. They start to chat animatedly, their voices carrying over to me.

“Corey!” My friend’s voice jars me back to reality. “Earth to Delacour,” Taz says. “You got a little thing for goths now?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe. Is that a problem?” I ask, looking him in the eye.

He chuckles and shakes his head, a sly smile spreading across his face.

“Nah, man, no problem at all. But be aware, people remember where you stick your dick.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “When have I ever cared about what anyone at this school thinks? The only opinions that matter to me are those of college recruiters and NHL scouts.”

He holds his hands up defensively, “Hey man, I’m not judging. But why complicate things with some random chick when you could pick any girl here?” He makes a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating he means any girl in our general area.

Maybe that’s the problem. Every girl here is a carbon copy of the one next to her. “Variety is the spice of life,” I reply sarcastically. Taz chuckles and nods in agreement.

Our group starts to gather our things and head out, but I can’t resist turning back to look at Ivy. She’s sitting with her new friend, her blonde hair falling perfectly over her shoulders as she throws her head back and lets out a contagious laugh. Hearing the melodic laughter unexpectedly affects me, and I find myself smiling at the sight before leaving to join my friends.