Foes & Cons by Carrie Aarons (i am malala young readers edition .txt) 📗

my performance coming out of the closet post-seven minutes in heaven, Sawyer had been so hurt. He tried to talk to me about it on the way home, as we awkwardly walked next to each other down the streets of Chester on that humid summer night. I rebuffed him, my own heart hanging on by a thread in my chest, thinking about all the ugly words he’d written about me on that pros and cons list.

I told him, on that walk, that I just didn’t want people thinking I ever wanted to kiss him, because it made me want to be sick. He responded with just as much poison, telling me that I’d thank my lucky stars if he ever showed interest in me. We were infecting our relationship with venom, killing it from the inside out. Over the course of that week, rumors ran rampant, both of us spreading lies about each other and avoiding any kind of mature talk or resolution.

After that, any chance of being us again went out the window. We started sophomore year as enemies and have continued that way ever since.

My mind is swimming, panic gripping every cell in my body. Nate gives me a strange look, but calls the meeting to order because time is of the essence and we all have to get to homeroom soon. I want to run down to the podium, call the whole thing off, dismiss the hundred random people in the room, ones who have never cared about our class or its decisions ever before.

But my muscles won’t move, and I just stand here, trying not to smack the smirk off Sawyer’s ridiculously handsome face.

“All right, next up we’ll be voting on the Spirit Night theme. My cabinet and I have come up with a theme to present; Senior Superheroes. We’re thinking a complete Marvel and DC theme—”

Nate is completely cut off when Sawyer pipes up. “All in favor for Senior Survivors?”

Dozens of hands shoot up, and my stomach plummets through the floor.

“Sorry, but we have to hear presentations, call it to a vote …” Nate is trying to keep his composure, but I can see he’s freaking pissed.

“Aren’t we calling it to a vote right now?” Sawyer cocks an eyebrow and a vicious grin at the class president. “You wouldn’t want the entire senior class to think you were rigging this vote so that your idea wins, would you, Nate?”

I hate everything about this moment as I watch Nate’s eyes flare with anger. This isn’t his doing, he’s not the reason that all of our hard work in preparing the theme is going to shit. It’s not his fault, and his fairness and position shouldn’t be in question right now.

No, this is happening because Sawyer despises me, and I stood up to him for the first time in two years. Hatred, fury, sadness and a lot of other emotions mix inside my gut, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve turned a shade of beet purple. I’m shaking with rage, and I want to throttle my nemesis.

He’s following through on his promise, and he knows it, when Nate shrugs sadly and says, “I guess the votes for Senior Survivors have it.”

A whoop and cheers go up from the massive crowd that I know we’ll never see in here again. Then, just as promptly as they filed in, they all file out, not even bothering to stay for the rest of the meeting.

I want to cry, but I keep my stiff upper lip. I can’t let them, or him, see how much this has devastated me.

As Sawyer passes me on his way out, he stops and speaks low, his lips dangerously close to mine.

“I told you I wasn’t playing around. You want this to stop? Fade into the background, like you were meant to do. Or I’ll take everything you love about this school and this town.”

Everything in me burns with defeat, and Nate’s eyes are concerned as we connect across the classroom.

Part of me wants to back down, to stay the doormat I’ve been the last two years. But the other part of me says absolutely fucking not.

Sawyer just stole one of the things I love most about this hellhole. And I’m going to make him pay.

6 Sawyer

The initial week of school flies by, culminating in the first Friday night party after the football game.

Matthew is standing on top of a large table that looks like it was carved from a massive oak tree, toasting to every other drunk high schooler in the room.

“To senior year; may we live it drunkenly, sexily, and like our lives might end tomorrow!” He raises the bottle of tequila in his fist and takes a swig, and a hundred red cups follow suit on the ground below.

“Not the best toast, to be honest.” Glavin chuckles.

I nod, sipping on my second foamy cup of keg beer. “But everyone is on their way to shit-faced, so I doubt they noticed.”

“Everyone is also on their way to laying a girl down in the back of their car, so you better get on Hailey if you want that, man.” My best friend holds his cup up in a salute to me.

My gaze travels across the room and lands on Hailey, who is hosting the party tonight. She’s not subtle at all about the way she’s eye-fucking me, her body swaying with tipsiness already. I don’t say it out loud, because I’d sound like a cocky asshole, but I don’t think I need to get on that. If I crook my finger, or even an eyebrow, she’ll come running. Partly because I am who I am, one of the most popular guys in our grade, and that’s not being cocky. But partly because Hailey has been offering herself up for close to a year and I haven’t taken her up on it. Sure, we flirt and there is an attraction, but it’s almost too easy. I’m all for getting off, for getting naked