“He’s the second coming of Luke.”
A lanky sophomore with mousey hair and features hurled the sarcastic comment at us as we walked by. The remark was not the first of its kind, and I doubted it would be the last. I despised the comparison, but it was difficult to fault him, or anyone, for drawing that conclusion. My request to overcome my fear remained a secret amongst the members of the Volunteers Club. So, it must have been quite the sight to behold: someone like me surrounded by the same three girls who used to pine over Luke.
This spurred on a litany of questions and concerns whenever they saw us in a group together. How did Nicole fall for him? What were the going rates to bang Aubrey? Why was a senior going after a sophomore like Serena? The last one hurt the most because no one had ever accused Luke of trying to rob the cradle. Still, it was easy enough to brush off their comments since most were simple jealousy. From the outside looking in, I was living my best life, and there were a few who didn't appreciate that. Some guys bemoaned what they were doing wrong, while a few girls were upset that the dudes were more interested in us than their advances.
Over winter break, we'd hung out a few more times, and it had become surprisingly easy to find excuses to spend time together. When school started back up, we fell into much the same routine. A few more weeks passed, and pretty much everybody else had decided we were just a bunch of weirdos and left us to it. That was ideal, and it came with some nice perks. The fight I had gotten into had been seemingly forgotten, and I was able to keep my head down and manage homeroom and the final period of the day again.
What proved more difficult to manage was what was happening right now.
Serena was wrapped around my arm, body pressed up tightly against my side. The other two followed closely behind us, disinterested in the prattling story that the younger girl had been telling for the entire stretch of the hallway we’d been walking. Even though it was pointless, I tried to focus more on her rambling and less on how close she was. Gritting my teeth tightly together helped me focus a little.
Just a little.
“And then my sister was all over him, but I can’t understand what was so great about somebody like him? I mean I guess his face was ok, but holy crap was his personality so bland.” She stuck her tongue out to emphasize her point. “She has the worst taste in men.”
“Is this going anywhere?” Nicole asked.
The other girl’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “I thought it was.”
“You’re an idiot.” She sighed and rubbed at her temples. “And aren’t you basically just describing Grant?”
Serena smiled brightly. “I guess I am.”
I was no longer gritting my teeth anymore. I was gnashing them–not at the insult, although that wasn’t putting me in any better of a mood–as Serena snaked her arm tighter through mine. Her fingers had been dancing over my sleeve to further iterate certain parts of her retelling, and I desperately wanted to yank my arm away. Aubrey must have noticed, gently prying away Serena from my side. She looked confused for a moment before realizing the state I was in and nervously laughing.
“Whoops. Sorry about that, Grant.”
I released a large sigh, smiling at her to show I held no ill will. “You know I’m happy that you’ve been helping me.”
Nicole flicked the back of my neck. “She's a little too willing if you ask me.”
My smile grew larger at the familiar contact until I was practically beaming in pride at how I had no poor reaction to the touch.
"Gross. Why are you always so gross?"
Nicole skirted around to Aubrey's other side, putting some distance between us and loudly complaining about creepy boys. Aubrey hummed in acceptance, giving me a small pat on the back, much to the disgust of Nicole. While Serena was much more forward with her intent to assist me in getting over my hatred of physical contact, the other two were more subtle. They didn't cling to me, rather they only closed the distance between us when it made sense to. Like a group of friends might, I guess.
We reached the clubroom and filed inside. The light bulb flickered and buzzed above us, something I had taken to be a customary greeting by this point. Pushing further into the backroom, I couldn’t help but grimace at the disaster we had left. Deep cleaning everything up had been Aubrey’s brainchild, but now that we were faced with the entire belly of the beast from the previous day of tidying up, no one seemed eager to start. Crumpled papers, random art supplies, broken easels, and stacks of dusty instruction booklets covered every corner of the table and spilled onto the floor. The tarp had been cleared of milk crates, but now housed an assortment of trinkets from former students who had certainly forgotten about them decades ago.
"Ugh, this is going to take forever," Nicole complained, nudging a pile of papers with her foot.
"We better get started, anyway," Aubrey said, surveying the mess with grim determination. "The sooner we finish this up, the sooner we won't have to worry about it."
"I wasn't worried about it," Serena said, lacking her normal enthusiasm for once.
Deciding there was nothing left to add, I started doing my best to sort through the clutter. There was just so much of it to sift through and decide what to do with. While I had always agreed that an early spring cleaning was in order, I would have been fine with continuing to chuck all the shit into the other room like Nicole and I had started doing. Were the results of that going to be pretty? No, but it was sure as hell was much more efficient.
"What do you think we should do with this?" Serena asked, answering her own question seconds later when she placed the colorful tiki mask over her face. Peering at us through the slits in the mask, the tiki's grotesque face contrasted comically with her bubbly disposition.
Despite my sour mood, I chuckled. "Maybe we can start an exhibit: The History of Strange Artifacts Found in the Volunteers Clubroom."
"Yes, I like that!" Serena said, voice muffled by the mask. She danced over to Aubrey and Nicole, doing a strange chant that may have been more than a little offensive to some. "That may have been the only smart thing you've come up with all day."
And that was when I realized the smartest thing I could have done all day was just not speak to her. That would save me an awful lot of headaches.
"Grant may be right, though," Aubrey said, giggling at how strange Serena was most likely. "We should tackle this in stages. Otherwise, it's going to be too much to get through all at once. Why don't we start with the art supplies, papers, and books? After we get those sorted into boxes and shelves, we can go from there."
I had no qualms about this new proposal–even if it was wrongly credited to me, and the girls looked downright relieved. Nicole nodded, grabbing a stack of the booklets. "We should make piles - keep, toss, and donate."
I was surprised she was suddenly on board but soon found myself getting to work. We divided the belongings into the agreed-upon piles that we would later have Miss Halsey approve. Whether that would be useful was debatable, yet it wasn't in my interest to criticize an overall solid plan.
The work proved tedious, but we were able to move at a steady pace through years of accumulated junk. Most of it was easy enough to categorize, although some overlap was expected. Old assignments that nobody had claimed in so long weren't likely to find an owner soon, into the junk pile they went. Art supplies and those ancient instruction booklets might still be able to find some life in the art club, into the keep pile they went. Posters and artwork that looked like they might be able to fetch some money on the market, into the donation pile they went.
While I had been reserved about the whole process, it was easy enough to take a step back and see what a large dent we had put into the cleanup. No longer was everything strewn around; now it was neatly tucked into organized piles.
"We could use a few things," Aubrey said quietly.
It would have been an outrageous statement earlier, but with everything laid bare, it was easy to see that the room was lacking. We really did have nothing besides what the old art room had held.
“I wonder if we'd be able to ask Miss Halsey to go out tomorrow and pick up some supplies.”
Aubrey smiled. “We should have some club funds for that.”
“A vacuum cleaner would totes be a good call.”
The velvety voice had me turning toward the door frame. Kenna stood there, arms outstretched like she owned the place. Sophia at least had the decency to look like she wanted to be anywhere else.
“Shit everywhere as far as you can see. You all are down bad to be hanging out in this dump.” Kenna took a step into the room, smirking when her gaze landed on Nicole. “You really are here.”
"Cool it," Sophia warned.
Her smirk turned feral. “Good.”