It Started with a Bet...

"That dipwad!" I yell, chucking my phone at the sofa. Clarice pops another piece of popcorn into her mouth. After my little spat with Trevor I hightailed it to Clarice's for a sleepover. Her parents were surprisingly chill with it.

"You're the one who's like 'oh, let's let Trevor find out she's a bitch on his own.' I mean, that was dumb." I sit up to glare at her.

"Who's side are you on?" I growl.

"Did you even explain what really happened?"

"Yes! And he just assumed I was lying based on that trash Christa and Janice told him!"

"You know what this means, right?" I reach my arm out to grab a fistful of popcorn.

"What?" Clarice shakes my shoulder.

"It means that Janice and Christa teamed up to screw us over. Christa hates you and Janice is pissed at both of us, so they teamed up!"

"You mean that they locked the doors to distract me so they could get Trevor mad at me? How would they even know if it would work? What if you'd gotten out in five minutes?" Clarice shrugs.

"They got lucky."

"Then what about Corey not being at tryouts? And I saw him there afterwards, too. He said it went well!"

"Did you tell Trevor?" I pause, thinking.

"I think I yelled it at him on my way out, but he said he didn't want to hear anymore of my lies." Clarice sighs. "Gah!" I yell in exasperation.

"You must really like him," Clarice says. "I've never seen you this animated about anything before."

"I don't!" I yell loudly, ignoring the blood rushing to my cheeks. "He's an idiotic retard who doesn't know who his friends are and he's not worth the ground he walks on!"

"Yeah...you like him."

"Maybe just a little. But he's still infuriating!"

"Oh yes, because you've given him such a reason to trust you, betting on that date and all." I snatch the popcorn box away.

"That doesn't count. We both bet on it!"

"Well, don't worry about it. Tomorrow's that field trip. You don't have to see him all day."

"I better not."

Thursday is worse than I thought. First period no one talks to me, second period my normal seat is littered with hate mail. Third period, my normal seat isn't there at all. Fourth period I get a spitball in my hair.

"Do you need help?" Spike calls. He's standing outside the girls' bathroom while I attempt to get the spitball out. Then we'll go to lunch.

"I don't think you want to come in here," I call back. Then I come to a realization. "Shit! It's spit and gum!"

A few seconds later Spike strolls into the bathroom, a peanut-butter sandwich in his hand.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I swiped it from some chick sitting out here smirking at you." I laugh. Spike peels the bread away and starts working the peanut butter into the gum. At first I try to help, but he just swats my hand away.

"Submit to The Way of the Peanut Butter."

"The what?"

"Just chill. You've had to deal with enough today." I let out a sigh and relax.

"Thanks, Spike." He nods and keeps working, eventually dunking my head under the sink to rinse the whole concoction out. And just like that, lunch is over.

"Damn, I'm hungry," I mutter as we leave the restroom. Spike nods and snags a burrito from a girl walking by.

"What do you feel like eating?" He surveys the people around us. "I think there's someone eating a salad over there. Or...a burger." I laugh and shake my head.

"No thanks."

Fifth period my seat is still there. In fact, it's been roped off with a sign saying "whore zone" on it. The teacher says nothing.

By the time school ends, I'm ready to snap. God knows how many times I've been insulted, how many times I've been threatened or tripped or pushed or had my hair pulled. The worst is right after fifth. Some absolute retard printed out a bunch of pictures of me and Spike exiting the bathroom with the caption "another quickie for the whore?"

As I round the corner to freedom, I see Christa and Janice standing a few feet away from me, an enormous basket of folded paper in their hands. Colorful paper. And there's a nice big picture of me and Spike taped to the front.

"We've gathered the well-wishes of the entire school for you, Haley." They shove the basket into my hands. It all happens at once.

My fist makes spectacular contact with first Christa's nose and then Janice's. I hear Spike cheer about my "vicious right hook" and a sudden gasp from behind the bruised and broken girls. It's Trevor. I pick up the basket and throw it at him.

"Why the hell do I even deal with this for you?" I scream. I march out the door and don't look back. Trevor doesn't come after me.

"Haley, why did you punch those girls?" I got detention instead of suspension for punching the girls on school grounds. Mainly because every student and teacher on campus could testify to the fact that I was being bullied. In concern, Trevor's dad called Dr. Thornton in. Trevor had tryouts (which is why he was at school after the field trip) so we haven't spoken yet. Mom is off somewhere, yelling at Dad for bringing 'that quack' into our house.

"I was being bullied. And it was annoying." I'm still steamed, so I can't make random stuff up. "I'm sorry, Dr. Thornton, but I don't feel like talking right now. Maybe tomorrow?" He nods and gets up to leave. There's not much else he can do, really.

"What about what we talked about last time. Have you found a guy you like yet? Gone out on any dates?"

"Tomorrow, Dr. Thornton."

"I'm not giving up until you find yourself some kind of boyfriend. You need to forget Trina." I just push him out the door.

"Can I call a friend over?" I ask Mom. Clarice has texted me five times since I got home. She nods. She and Dad have figured they really can't punish me. They don't even know all of what happen. Besides, I'm not theirs to punish.

"You finally punched them!" Clarice yells joyously as she jumps through the door. I can see Mom and Dad in the kitchen, eager to hear the reasoning. Clarice jumps up and down, her hands on my shoulders, as she pushes me into the kitchen. "They deserved it, the bitches!!!" She pauses as she catches sight of Trevor's parents. "Um...hi."

"You can talk in front of them," I tell her, opening the fridge. "They're chill." I see both adults straighten up and blush proudly in response to the praise.

"Spike called me and explained everything. I saw that picture they got of you. Why exactly were you coming out of the bathroom with him?"

"I got a gum-spit ball in my hair. Spike was teaching me The Way of the Peanut Butter."

"The what?"

"That's what he calls his peanut butter gum removal mechanism."

"What else did you have to go through?" I list the torture by period.

"Shiiit," Clarice says finally. "And you just let it happen?"

"For a while. Then I punched their lights out."

"Good for you!" We all turn to stare at Dad. O...kay then.

I hear a key in the door and a weary Trevor comes in.

"I need to talk to you."

"Shower first," I say, holding my nose. He nods and walks up the stairs. Clarice starts slapping my shoulder.

"He wants to apologize and you tell him to shower first?" I shrug.

"Who said he wants to apologize. He's the one who trusts Christa over me." Mom and Dad quickly exit the room. This is a conversation they don't want to be a part of. They're too awesome. Christa nods.

"Good point. We don't want him all sweaty when you hug and make up."

"Were you even listening to me?" Suddenly, my phone starts buzzing.

"Haley, it's Corey. I need to talk to you. I'm on my way over." I bound out the back door and over the fence. As I pass the kitchen I notice that I have about 10 messages. While I wait for Corey, I listen. They're all from Khalil, the butcher. I call him back and explain to him that I'm living with Trevor. Just as he starts telling me how happy he is and how we should throw a party and how he has some more goat in his store if I ever want some, I see Corey's car pull into the driveway.

"Can I come in?" I nod and let him in.

"Haley, I was thinking." I look at him blankly. He takes both my hands. "Haley, do you like me?" Eh? I look over his flawless skin, his bright eyes and the reddish brown hair that sweeps over his forehead.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I really like you. Will you go out with me?"