old food, prepared by real people, tasted any better.
As she entered the caf, her eyes fell upon two figures at the far side of the vending area. The pair were curled up into an intense-looking embrace. Peyton quickly looked away, not wanting to spy. Then, curious, she took another peek at the two lovebirds, wondering who would dare an illegal public display of affection on school grounds.
Her stomach dropped like it was on a rollercoaster sim, and her world spun off its axis. Could it really be? A second glance confirmed her worst fears. Drew. Her boyfriend. Tangled up in the arms of the student class president, Brenda Booker. Brenda had gotten her LTF back when she was twelve years old and was legendary in the district for her trashy exploits.
A mixture of disgust and self-righteous rage filled Peyton. Avery had been right; Drew had decided she wasn’t worth waiting for. All that stuff he’d said about love and loyalty—it was all bull. He was just like every other horny guy in her high school, looking for one thing and one thing alone.
She tried to take a step back, to flee the scene, but her legs felt like they were stuck in mud to the knees. She tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground.
Swift, Peyton. Real swift.
They hadn’t noticed her before, but they did now. Drew and Brenda looked over, startled. Peyton scrambled to her feet, her face burning. She would never say it to her dad, but now would be a great time for the end of the world to commence.
“I… I thought you had English class this period,” Drew stammered.
Anger won over her embarrassment. “Is that all you can say?” she demanded. “I catch you making out with the school slag in the middle of the cafeteria, and all you can say is that I should be in class? Since when did you become hall monitor?”
Drew didn’t even have the good grace to look sheepish. He whispered something to Brenda, who nodded, giggled, gave Peyton a dirty look, and took off. Peyton glared at her retreating back, wishing she could shoot daggers out of her eyes. Then she turned to her cheating boyfriend.
“How could you?” she cried, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “I thought… I thought you loved me.” God, it sounded so lame and stupid when she said it out loud.
“I do love you,” Drew said, walking over to her. He took her hand in his. She yanked it away. “I love you more than anything.”
“I see,” Peyton said through clenched teeth. “You have a weird way of showing it.” She squeezed her hands into fists and forced herself to stay calm. “You love me, but, let me guess—you want to be with someone who has their CC.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Drew said in an exasperated tone. “A million times, in fact. You’re one of the last hold-outs in your entire class. I’m even willing to do it illegally for you, Peyton. That’s how much I love you. But if you won’t even agree to that, well, what are we supposed to do?”
So there it was. Avery was right. It all came down to sex. “I’m not going to break the law,” she protested weakly.
“No, you won’t, will you?” Drew’s voice took on a harder edge. “‘Cause you’re too afraid of your crazy daddy and what he might do if you dared to live a little. You’re trapped in a cage, Peyton,” he told her. “Living half a life. All because some Armageddon nut—who should be locked up—keeps telling you that the end of the world is near.” He shook his head. “Well, let me tell you something: when the end of the world does come, I’m going to have lived my life. How about you? You still going to be waiting around with Daddy?”
Peyton snapped. Her fist found Drew’s nose, connecting with an oh-so-satisfying sound of crushing bone, followed by a scream of pain. Her boyfriend’s perfect proboscis—the one that his parents had paid, well, through the nose for—was now a shapeless, bloody mess.
“Don’t talk about my father like that,” she said, lowering her
As she entered the caf, her eyes fell upon two figures at the far side of the vending area. The pair were curled up into an intense-looking embrace. Peyton quickly looked away, not wanting to spy. Then, curious, she took another peek at the two lovebirds, wondering who would dare an illegal public display of affection on school grounds.
Her stomach dropped like it was on a rollercoaster sim, and her world spun off its axis. Could it really be? A second glance confirmed her worst fears. Drew. Her boyfriend. Tangled up in the arms of the student class president, Brenda Booker. Brenda had gotten her LTF back when she was twelve years old and was legendary in the district for her trashy exploits.
A mixture of disgust and self-righteous rage filled Peyton. Avery had been right; Drew had decided she wasn’t worth waiting for. All that stuff he’d said about love and loyalty—it was all bull. He was just like every other horny guy in her high school, looking for one thing and one thing alone.
She tried to take a step back, to flee the scene, but her legs felt like they were stuck in mud to the knees. She tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground.
Swift, Peyton. Real swift.
They hadn’t noticed her before, but they did now. Drew and Brenda looked over, startled. Peyton scrambled to her feet, her face burning. She would never say it to her dad, but now would be a great time for the end of the world to commence.
“I… I thought you had English class this period,” Drew stammered.
Anger won over her embarrassment. “Is that all you can say?” she demanded. “I catch you making out with the school slag in the middle of the cafeteria, and all you can say is that I should be in class? Since when did you become hall monitor?”
Drew didn’t even have the good grace to look sheepish. He whispered something to Brenda, who nodded, giggled, gave Peyton a dirty look, and took off. Peyton glared at her retreating back, wishing she could shoot daggers out of her eyes. Then she turned to her cheating boyfriend.
“How could you?” she cried, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “I thought… I thought you loved me.” God, it sounded so lame and stupid when she said it out loud.
“I do love you,” Drew said, walking over to her. He took her hand in his. She yanked it away. “I love you more than anything.”
“I see,” Peyton said through clenched teeth. “You have a weird way of showing it.” She squeezed her hands into fists and forced herself to stay calm. “You love me, but, let me guess—you want to be with someone who has their CC.”
“We’ve talked about this,” Drew said in an exasperated tone. “A million times, in fact. You’re one of the last hold-outs in your entire class. I’m even willing to do it illegally for you, Peyton. That’s how much I love you. But if you won’t even agree to that, well, what are we supposed to do?”
So there it was. Avery was right. It all came down to sex. “I’m not going to break the law,” she protested weakly.
“No, you won’t, will you?” Drew’s voice took on a harder edge. “‘Cause you’re too afraid of your crazy daddy and what he might do if you dared to live a little. You’re trapped in a cage, Peyton,” he told her. “Living half a life. All because some Armageddon nut—who should be locked up—keeps telling you that the end of the world is near.” He shook his head. “Well, let me tell you something: when the end of the world does come, I’m going to have lived my life. How about you? You still going to be waiting around with Daddy?”
Peyton snapped. Her fist found Drew’s nose, connecting with an oh-so-satisfying sound of crushing bone, followed by a scream of pain. Her boyfriend’s perfect proboscis—the one that his parents had paid, well, through the nose for—was now a shapeless, bloody mess.
“Don’t talk about my father like that,” she said, lowering her
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