The Incomparable Edie Wells

I wince as I push myself up in bed, silently cursing the fact that watching TV all day took such a toll out of me in an injured state. Not that I didn't have some part of me injured at most times, it's just not usually that I have to worry about re-bruising something.

“How are you feeling?” Rhett asks, setting a tray of food on my lap.

I roll my eyes. “Peachy. And you?”

“Look, Edie, I said I was sorry...”

I wave it off and take the little bowl of chicken noodle soup. “It's no big deal, Rhett. I was kidding. It's just not fun to be sick, too, y'know?”

Because of course, with my luck, not only do I bruise three ribs, but I catch a cold for not wearing a jacket. And therefore, Riley won't let me out of the house. Therefore, I miss the date that I have been waiting years for, because I didn't wear a jacket.

To say I'm pissed is an understatement. I'm just not pissed at Rhett.

He offers me a half-assed smile. “That was pretty stupid of you, though.”

“Just because you're off the hook for now doesn't mean you're going to stay that way.”

He rolls his eyes and takes a seat on the bed next to me, careful not to make me spill the soup. He's still in is uniform – no doubt Riley made him take up my food just as he walked in the door. I feel a pang of guilt shoot through my chest. His mom loves him, but she's been especially cold to him these last few days because of what he'd done. Personally, I don't blame him for what happened since he was trying to protect me, I guess, to a certain extent. I feel bad. He gets all this crap for something I caused.

I offer him a half-smile. “So how was it today?” I ask quietly.

I don't have to elaborate, since he already seems to know what I'm talking about. “It was... okay, for the most part,” he sighs, running his hand through his messy hair, “All anyone can talk about is the fight, and Levi, and...” And you. But he doesn't have to say it.

I bite my lip. “That's not good, is it?”

He gives me the same half-smile. “I'm definitely the wrong person to ask.”

“EDIE!” a distinctly female voice shrieks, just before I hear what sounds like a stampede of elephants rushing up the stairs.

I lean over to Rhett and whisper, “Leave now, and you might make it out unscathed. I make no promises.”

Rhett just chuckles and ruffles my hair. He stands up and stretches, just as Maggie comes bounding into the room, her hair flying in every direction and a crazed, excited look on her face that I've only seen a few times, the most recent being when she was Listed at her peak. I hold back a groan.

“Oh, hi, Rhett,” she breathes, wheezing way harder than any normal person should after running up one flight of stairs. He nods in recognition and quietly slips out of the room, mumbling something about his weird little sister and her friends. I choose to let it go.

I raise an eyebrow at Maggie, who's managed to slump herself in a chair and throw her arm over her eyes. “So, you wanna tell me what all that was about?”

She holds up her hand, telling me to wait a second as she catches her breath.

“What she's trying to tell you is that the List was published again today,” an amused-sounding Parker says from the doorway.

My head whips toward him to fast I hear it crack. Parker hasn't wanted anything to do with me for the past few days. No texting, no IM, no calling. Nothing. I can't figure out why he's so upset with me. He doesn't seem mad, at least not right now. He seems a little... hurt. But for the life of me, I don't know of anything I could've done. I tried to get Maggie to tell me, but she just sighed and muttered a whole bunch of French words. I gave up trying.

“What … he... said...” Maggie wheezes, slumping over the arm of the chair in the corner of my room. I roll my eyes.

I turn to Parker again. “So? There's one every week,” I point out.

He slings his bag off of his shoulder and takes a seat in the chair previously occupied by Rhett, tossing a small stack of papers on my lap. “Yeah, but there's been some... changes... to this one.” He frowns. “You might wanna take a look.”

I glance from him, to the papers, and back to him again. He's got this look on his face that, to anyone else, would look amused. But I can tell it's fake – his eyes look tired, sad... Their glowing green-ness isn't there like it usually is, and that's what distinguishes my best friend from any other red-haired, green-eyed Star Wars nerd.

I sigh and turn over the packet.

Westbrook High: The List, Week 3.

It's the familiar, curly cover art that everyone sees on the weekly blog, only in print form. No one usually bothers to print it out, but I'm sure Maggie did because my family's computer is too old and slow to look at anything. But she's never done it before, which can only mean one of two things: either she moved way, way down... Or I moved up.

Cautiously, I turn the cover page.

Seven... Levi Smith.

Eight... Rhett Allen.

Nine... Anna Smith.

Twenty … Edie Wells.

I don't really comprehend what I'm reading for a few seconds. Because I know that the name, written in curvy purple ink next to the number 20, isn't mine. It can't be.

Parker sees where my eyes are currently locked. “The List is based on a whole bunch of stuff... Looks, wealth, intelligence... But the maker of the List is anonymous. I think they base a lot of the List on how many times they overhear a certain person's name in a conversation. And, believe me, no one's been able to shut up about you all week. I'm just surprised – I don't think anyone's ever moved up that fast, ever since the List started back when my mom went there.”

I only half-listen to what he's saying. This... This isn't happen. It can't happen.
“Edie?”

It isn't supposed to happen like this. It's supposed to take months, even years to be bumped up that far. Rhett and Maggie have managed similar feats before, but that was when Rhett had thrown a raging party while the rest of us were out of town and Maggie had been 'caught' making out with the captain of the baseball team - #4. But... I'm Edie. It's not supposed to be this easy, right?

“Edie? Hello?”

I look over at my friend, who's waving his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention.

“Park...” I wheeze, searching for a sign of life in his eyes. They're blank-looking, like he doesn't give a crap what's going on. Like he doesn't care about this, about me.... about anything.

It's not the Parker I know. This Parker scares me.

“How.... I …. This isn't good,” I finally manage to say, unable to tear my eyes away from his shallow green ones.

That's when Maggie finally chooses to regain her voice. “Not good? What the hell do you mean it's not good?! It takes most people their entire high school careers to make that kind of jump, Edie! This is fantastic

I'm not paying attention though. Parker's jaw is clenched so tight that I'm almost afraid it's going to fall off. I've only seen it a few times – the most recent being his reaction to Levi's little announcement a few days ago. All I know is that this means he's really upset about something – but he won't tell anyone what. Believe me, I've tried.

“Park?” I repeat, to get his attention.

He reluctantly looks at me, his eyes burning with something the rest of his face doesn't show. “Yeah, Eds?”

I sigh. “I'm sorry.”

He furrows his eyebrow. “What for?”

“I'm not sure. But I know I'll have to at some point.”