The Wrong Path_Smashwords (2 page)

“Speaking of…” Claire started, lowering her voice so the group of girls had to lean in close to hear her. Claire, the leader of the clique, was astonishingly beautiful, with blond hair always curled into big, bouncy waves, perfectly tanned skin, and a lean, toned body from hours of cheerleading practice. Her looks, strong personality, and sharp tongue made her a natural leader. It had been Claire who had introduced herself to Annabelle at the country club years earlier, inviting her to hang out the next day. Annabelle would always be grateful to her for that. “I’ve got the IDs in my room at home. Adam dropped them off yesterday, and they look great.”

There were quiet cheers of excitement from the girls. Annabelle tried to picture her and her friends getting dressed up and going out to a club to go dancing, but the idea was just so foreign she couldn’t imagine it. She, Annabelle, at sixteen, was actually going to go to a club with her friends.

The club, which was having its opening night next Friday, was advertised as having two floors, with five different rooms all playing different types of music. As soon as Mary found out about it and told them about it at lunch one day, Claire had set about trying to get them fake IDs, and Claudia had produced one of her college boys that had a contact. The next thing Annabelle knew, they were all giving Claudia money to pay for the fake IDs with a promise of having them in time for the club opening.

“Annabelle?”

She looked up quickly at the voice that called her name, and smiled at the familiar face of her stylist. She’d been going to the same woman since the girls had started bringing her to the salon, unlike the others, who didn’t seem to care who did their hair. But Carrie did her hair just the way she liked it, and she trusted her.

She stood, bid her friends goodbye, and smiled at Carrie as she was led to the back. “So what’re we going to do today?” Carrie asked, as they walked by freshly styled women on their way out of the salon. Annabelle lingered a moment to watch them, unable to tear her eyes away. She loved watching women walk out of the salon. They always looked beautiful, as if having their hair done had breathed new life into them. If Annabelle could, she would come to the salon every day to have her hair done.

“Just a trim,” she requested, lightly fingering the ends of her hair, which had grown slightly past her shoulders. She knew from the other girls that Trevor liked girls with shoulder-length hair, so she diligently kept her hair at the same length, getting regular trims to keep it in shape.

“Sounds good,” Carrie agreed cheerfully, even though Annabelle never asked for anything different. She spun the chair for Annabelle to sit down in.

As she slid in, listening to Carrie’s upbeat chatter, answering when appropriate, she wondered if it was difficult to be a hairdresser, pretending to be interested in what the people in her chair were saying. Maybe she really was interested—Carrie was in her mid-twenties, pretty, and appeared to be genuinely happy every time Annabelle saw her. When Annabelle spoke, she listened encouragingly.

An hour later, Carrie proudly set down her styling tools. Annabelle looked at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her shoulder-length light brown hair curled into large waves. Her blue eyes were bright, as if new life had been breathed into her, just like the rest of the women in the salon.

She thanked Carrie and went to pay with her credit card. Her mom had given it to her on the condition every purchase was either discussed with her before it was made or never totaled more than three-hundred dollars per month. It was much less than her friends were given—Claire could spend as much as she wanted each month, and Claudia had a cap of a thousand dollars per month—but as envious as she was of her friend’s unlimited amount, she felt good about having her own card. She was, after all, more blessed than many other people, a fact her parents never hesitated to point out to her.

“It looks great,” she heard a voice say as someone approached on her right. She turned quickly, smiling brightly at Claire’s compliment. Claire’s shiny blond hair hung straight down her back, making her look like a model.

“Thanks,” she said, pleased. “You, too. But you always look great.”

Claire grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. “What would I do without you, Annabelle?” she laughed, placing her credit card down on the counter to pay for her cut.

They sat around and gossiped for a while, until everyone but Mary had finished and paid for their styles. Claire disappeared into the back to find out what was taking so long, reappearing a few minutes later with her lips in a straight line. “Mary’s getting her hair colored,” Claire announced, sounding borderline annoyed. “So we’re going to get some food.”

Annabelle hesitated. She felt bad leaving Mary alone in the salon, but the other girls were already heading out into the mall the salon was connected to. She followed quickly, not wanting to get left behind.

“That is so cute!” Claire exclaimed, stopping short at the front of the group to point into the window of one of the stores they walked by. Immediately, Annabelle and the other two girls turned to look.

“It’s totally cute!” Erin agreed enthusiastically.

“The boys’ll die,” Claudia agreed, sounding almost amused.

Annabelle studied the outfit. It was a light blue mini-skirt and a short, cropped white shirt with a matching light-blue sweater over it. On the wrong person it would look hideous, but on Claire it would be stunning, just like everything else she wore. Claire could probably turn heads wearing a track suit three sizes too big.

“Annabelle?”

Annabelle turned sharply, startled to find three sets of eyes on her. Claire was giving her an expectant look, waiting for her opinion.

Embarrassed, Annabelle grinned. “It’ll look amazing on you,” she assured Claire. “Just like everything else.”

Claire smiled broadly. “That settles it, then,” she declared.  Pleased that she had been part of the decision, Annabelle and the other girls followed Claire into the store.

“I’m trying this,” Claudia announced succinctly, studying a pair of black Capri pants that looked like they were made specifically for a mannequin. She disappeared into one of the changing rooms.

Annabelle watched as Erin also disappeared into a fitting room, and suddenly found herself alone in the store. Feeling instantly isolated and conspicuous, she glanced around the store, keenly aware of the eyes on her. Flustered at the probing, accusatory, annoyed looks that were being directed at her, she quickly looked down at the racks of clothing. She and her friends had been getting stared at like that for years in the mall, and she still didn’t understand why. At first she had thought it was jealousy at how pretty they were and that they were out having fun, but as more time went on, she wasn’t so sure.

 “You should try this on,” Claire said, appearing out of nowhere. Annabelle looked over at her gratefully, thankful to be saved from the judging, hostile stares. Claire smiled, holding out a plaid, pleated mini-skirt and a cropped white polo shirt.

“How was the outfit?” Annabelle asked her, nodding at the items over Claire’s arm as she took the hangers Claire held out to her.

Claire grinned impishly. “Amazing.”

They giggled and headed back to the changing rooms. Annabelle pulled on the skirt and the top, surprised at how good the outfit looked on her. Claire certainly had an eye for fashion, right down to knowing Annabelle’s size without even having to ask. And she had an uncanny ability to put clothing together that always looked polished and perfect, as if it had been designed to fit together.

Once the girls had bought and paid for their clothes—and they had all bought at least one new outfit, and Claudia had even grabbed some new accessories—they made their way through the mall to the food court.

As they walked, she caught sight of a boy and a girl around their age sitting on a bench drinking coffee. They were dressed in dark clothes, the boy in black pants covered in chains and zippers and a black t-shirt with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, and the girl in baggy black pants and a shredded burgundy tank top over a skintight long-sleeved black shirt. The boy had his back to Annabelle and her friends as he talked to the girl, blocking their faces from Annabelle’s view.

What kind of courage, Annabelle couldn’t help marveling, did someone have to possess to be able to dress like that? How were they able to walk around with their heads held high amidst all the stares and sneers? She didn’t think she could do it. While she was pleased to be part of the group everyone was envious of, she didn’t think she could handle being one of the outcasts—one of the ones who were noticed because they stuck
out
, not because they stuck
in
.

Still, a part of her couldn’t help but admire their strength.

“What do you think, Annabelle?” she heard Claire’s voice ask, breaking into her thoughts.

Startled, she tore her eyes away from the boy and girl and back to her friends. They were clustered together in a v-formation, Claire at the helm, several steps in front of her. She had become so distracted by the couple she’d fallen behind and lost track of the conversation.

As they waited expectantly, she frantically thought back to what her friends had been discussing. She was fairly certain she had heard Claudia say something about The Roux, which meant they had been talking about where to eat.

“The food court,” she declared, relieved she had been paying at least a little bit of attention to her friend’s chatter. They often saw other students in the food court, and since that was generally the main entrance, there was a high probability she would see Trevor if he showed up. “Never know who you’ll see out there, right?”

Claire grinned approvingly. Apparently Claire had wanted to eat at the food court as well. “Exactly,” she agreed, taking a few steps back to link her arm through Annabelle’s and bring her to the front of the group. Annabelle tried to sneak another look at the couple to see if she recognized them, but with Claire holding onto her and the other girls behind her, there was no way for her to do it without drawing too much attention. She tried not to be disappointed that her curiosity about their identity hadn’t been satiated when they rounded the corner to the food court.

They all ordered from the same place in the crowded cluster of restaurants so they wouldn’t have to split up, as was customary. Claudia looked annoyed they hadn’t gone with her choice, but at the sight of the tables full of boys who all turned their heads to stare at them, her features smoothed and lifted into a flirtatious smile. They chose a table on the outer edge, closest to the points of entry to the food court, giving them maximum visibility to anyone who should enter. Claire sat facing the hallway so she could see people as they streamed in, and to Annabelle’s surprise, she was pulled down into the chair beside her. Claudia, of course, sat on Claire’s other side, leaving Erin to sit beside Claudia.

Sitting beside Claire was the biggest honor the girls in the group could have, and Annabelle couldn’t help but feel pleased she had been chosen. She stuck her straw in her milkshake with a smile.

Claire discussed all of the gossip she had accumulated in the last day, which was enough to keep them entertained well through the meal and then some, especially with the other girls interjecting more gossip and their opinions. Annabelle enjoyed being included in the epicenter of the high school—knowing everyone else’s business and being able to discuss it all. There was something comforting about knowing something about everyone, as if it made the school smaller; made even people she barely knew almost like friends.

Out of nowhere, Annabelle watched Claire straighten, deliberately resuming control of the conversation. Her laugh suddenly became louder; her presence more commanding. She had paused in “casually” looking around, fixing her eyes on her friends.

Someone Claire had wanted to catch the attention of and impress had clearly come into the food court.

Sure enough, a moment later, Annabelle’s suspicions were confirmed. To her delight, Trevor Scarlett and his best friend Zach Coffman appeared at the end of their table. Both boys were dressed in polo shirts and lettermen’s jackets, their short hair styled to perfection. Zach had been Trevor’s best friend since they were kids, and as far as Annabelle had ever been able to tell, they were together all the time.

“Hey ladies,” Trevor greeted, smiling in his cheerful, friendly manner. Annabelle’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. Trevor was incredibly handsome, with dark brown hair and warm brown eyes set against deeply tanned skin. He was large, but not overpoweringly so, and Annabelle admired his ability to be so tough on the football field and yet not intimidate people on the street.

“Hey Trevor; Zach,” Claire greeted, in almost a purr. “What are you guys doing here?”

Trevor grinned. “Just grabbing some food.” He paused and studied them with a curious, polite look. Annabelle tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. “Did you guys get your hair done?”

Delighted he had noticed, Annabelle’s heart sang with more adoration for him. “Yeah,” Claudia confirmed. “We all did. We just stopped here for something to eat while Mary finishes up.”

 “It looks nice,” he complimented. He was so sweet, Annabelle had to stop herself from swooning.

“You guys should join us when you get your food,” Claire suggested. She smiled, her perfectly painted red lips curling up to reveal straight, white teeth. “We can discuss the party tonight.”