Free Trouble from the Start by Rachel Hawthorne

line, I endured their speculative glances. I was so glad when my food was ready and I was able to slip into a back corner booth.
    Kendall and Jeremy sat opposite me. After squeezing ketchup over my fries, I shoved one into my mouth. The first good moment of the day: that incredible taste of something designed to clog my arteries.
    â€œAt least it’s the last week of school,” Kendall mused. “And a short one. Exams the rest of the week, we’re off Friday, have the ceremony Saturday, and we’re done.”
    â€œI don’t understand why people believe him,” I muttered. “That they think I would just jump into the sack with him. I mean, we weren’t even on a date. He just offered to give me a ride home.”
    Kendall lifted a shoulder. “You got on his bike.”
    â€œSince when does getting a ride from a guy equal sleeping with him?”
    â€œIt doesn’t usually,” Jeremy told me. “But there was the bet—which I didn’t even hear about until this morning or I would have done something about it at the party. Add Fletcher to the mix . . . he has a reputation with the girls.”
    â€œBut we’re standing up for you,” Kendall said. “If anyone says anything to us, we’re telling them the rumors going around are crap.” She looked sadly at her burger as though it had disappointed her. “Although I don’t know how much good it does. I mean, I don’t know that it’s changing any minds.”
    â€œThat’s what makes me so mad,” I told her. “Other than making an announcement over the PA system, there’s no way I’m not leaving as the slut of Memorial High.”
    â€œIt’s not that bad. Someone with poor judgment maybe, but not a slut. Besides, what does it really matter?” Kendall asked. “You’re escaping at the end of summer. It won’t follow you to college. And you’ll probably never see any of these people until a class reunion.”
    â€œIt’s the principle of the thing.” Who would have thought an innocent ride home would fill the last week of my senior year with such drama? “What if people haven’t forgotten by the time we have a class reunion? What if that’s all they remember about me? This stupid rumor that I did something with Fletcher.”
    â€œThey’ll forget. It’s only important to them now. More important things are bound to happen to them before a reunion. Or at least I hope they do; otherwise that’s sad.”
    â€œYou’re right,” I said. “They won’t remember.” But I would. I’d remember the hurt of being played by a guy who I’d begun to think was nice. How could I have misjudgedhim so badly? He seemed so nice when really he was scum. Despicable.
    â€œUh-oh,” Kendall whispered, sitting up straighter.
    I knew that tone, knew it didn’t bode well. Although I didn’t see how anything could make this day worse. “What?”
    â€œFletcher just sat down two tables over, behind you.”
    I swung my head, peering around the corner of the booth. Oh, yeah, there he was, sharing his table with a blonde and a brunette, shaking salt over his fries, smiling, winking, teasing.
    â€œI’ll meet you at the car,” I said to Kendall and Jeremy.
    â€œDon’t let him chase you out of here,” Kendall commanded with conviction in her voice. She was all about standing up for herself. It was a trait we shared.
    â€œOh, I’m not.” I slid out of the booth, grabbed my backpack and my soft drink. I headed for the door, but stopped when I got to Fletcher’s table. Without ceremony or comment, I dumped my iced tea over his head.
    Sputtering, he stood up so fast that he knocked over his chair. “What the f—”
    Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened. A corner of his mouth started to tilt up, but I wasn’t in the mood to let him