Perfect Enemies

8

4 OceanofPDF.com “H KANE ey, man. I didn’t think to ask you yesterday at lunch, but do you play lacrosse? We could always use new talent on the team.” Bryson caught me just as I walked inside the school, his face open with eager anticipation. Too bad I had to squash his hopes. “I can’t, man. Busted knee ended my sports career.” “Ah, man. That sucks. What’d you play?” “Football, receiver.” “That’s right—Texas. They love their football down there.” He smirked. “Too bad about your knee. That’s a tough break.” “Yeah, no more contact sports for me.” I grimaced, thinking about everything I’d had to give up as a result of my injury. I’d gotten over a majority of my anger, but the bitter aftertaste of resentment still lingered. “Not sure if anyone mentioned yesterday but Blake Masterson is having a back-to-school party on Friday. His parents will be at their place in the Hamptons, so his house is all ours. You should definitely come. His parties are always sick.” “I’ve got nothing better to do. Count me in.” I could only imagine what a high school party would be like for people who ran through money like water. It would probably just piss me off, but it was my first big social opportunity, and I needed to take advantage. I got Bryson’s number and the address for the party, then went to my locker before class. Xavier utilized traditional scheduling rather than block scheduling, so each school day followed the same routine. That meant I got to start each day with Val and Reyna. I was reconsidering my first impression of Val after witnessing her jump to Reyna’s defense yesterday after school. I couldn’t hear what she’d said to the bitchy blonde, but whatever it was had sent the girl away fuming. Valentina had jumped to Reyna’s defense like a mother bear protecting her cub. The exchange made me realize that Valentina’s cool demeanor around me may have been more complicated than an aloof rejection. If she saw me as a threat to her friend, she’d do anything she could to push me away. The realization raised a couple of key questions. Why was she so protective of Reyna, and why did she deem me a threat when she hardly knew me? I erased the mental image I’d first created of Valentina—the spoiled rich girl who considered herself above everyone around her—and decided to let her show me herself who she was. I suspected that beneath the callous exterior she exhibited at school lay a ruthless loyalty—the true heart of her character that she only revealed to those she deemed worthy. My view of her had morphed from beautiful and bitchy to beautiful and fierce—a key distinction that only magnified her intrigue. I shook my head before walking into English. No matter the reason, interest in anyone at Xavier was a terrible idea. I needed to stay focused and get the hell out of there before I f****d my life off course more than it had already been derailed. I slipped into the desk I’d occupied the day before and scrolled through my phone as the other students filtered in. Like Siamese twins, Reyna and Val entered together. The girls were clearly inseparable whenever possible. Val’s eyes darted straight to me when she entered. I gave both girls a broad smile—one that was guaranteed to melt hearts, even the ice-coated heart of a merciless prom queen. “Careful flashing that thing around here this early in the morning. You might be accused of being a morning person,” Val deadpanned as she sat at her desk. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She swiveled to look at me, eyes narrowed as she studied me. “Your looks would counteract a lot, but it’d be a serious black mark on your name.” A wry grin tugged at my lips. “I take it you’re not a fan of mornings?” “I couldn’t care less. But the others?” She tilted her head toward the rest of the students behind us, each one hunched in their seats, worshiping a cup from one local coffee shop or another. “They get pretty testy in the mornings.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” I mused playfully. “Bryson told me about the party on Friday. You two going?” She stilled in the process of turning back to the front. Her eyes cut to Reyna. “No, we won’t make it.” “Yes,” Reyna shot back. “Yes, we’ll be there.” Val’s brows furrowed, but she didn’t argue. Interesting. A good sign that their friendship wasn’t entirely dictatorial. “Great. I’d love to see y’all there.” I smiled at Reyna, whose warm, coppery skin turned a deep shade of rose. “All right, everyone. Let’s get started.” Mrs. Adams turned on her laptop projection system displaying a poem on the whiteboard. “Hopefully, you all read the assignment last night. It was an easy one to start the semester.” Robert Frost’s “Nothing Gold Can Stay” flickered onto the screen. I hadn’t done the homework, but it was easy enough to scan the simple eightlined poem to familiarize myself. Not only was it short but the poet also spoke of a concept I was all too familiar with. “It may seem straightforward at first glance, but the poem can be interpreted in a number of ways. What are your initial impressions of the poem?” the teacher asked. I didn’t raise my hand. “Nothing good ever lasts.” It was a Nihilistic perspective but had proven true in my experience. “Well, that’s certainly one way—” Mrs. Adams began to respond but was cut off by a sharp female voice. “I disagree,” Valentina blurted. “Frost doesn’t imply that change is good or bad. He’s simply saying that life is always in a state of change. To project a negative connotation to the passing of time is a product of the reader’s own state of mind.” She couldn’t see me from behind her, but I was certain she was aware of my eyes on her. “So Eden sank to grief. You don’t think that implies a degree of sadness?” I asked. Val turned to face me. “I believe he’s assuring us that even sadness doesn’t last, the same way a flower can only bloom for so long. Regardless of what passes at any particular moment in time, that moment won’t last. Whether that encourages us to relish the best parts of today or assures us that the hardest parts won’t last forever, I’d say the poem is about encouragement and endurance rather than loss and helplessness.”