WHEN GLORY HEARS MATT’S NAME, she pastes her back against the cool wall, peeks around the corner. Kennedy is primping in front of the mirror glued inside the door of her locker. She is flanked by three girls.
“Have you heard if Matt’s getting it on with anyone?”
“I heard Lyne’s got a thing for him,” Marly says.
Glory muffles a snort.
“No fucking way!” Kennedy’s voice rises sharply. “Bitch has got Rick. Why the hell would she want Matt? I mean, Jesus. She made Rick beat the shit out of Bishop.”
“Hello? Have you seen Matt?” Jacey says, combs her fingers through her dark hair, blonde and red streaked. “Rick doesn’t even begin to compare to Matt.”
“C’mon, Rick’s no dog.”
“We’re not saying he’s a dog, Kennedy.” Jeannette sneaks a quick look in the mirror before Kennedy slams the door. “We all know you don’t do dogs, but, Jesus, girlfriend, you got to admit Matt is one fine-looking boy.”
Kennedy sticks her bottom lip out. “Rick’s got money and he’s got moves.”
“Moves?” Jacey says. “You’ve seen Matt play basketball at noon hour. That boy’s got moves. You wouldn’t want to have those hands all over you?”
“Not just his hands,” Marly says and the girls laugh wildly.
Glory has heard enough. She turns the corner and spots Matt strutting toward the group. She hurls herself back around the wall.
“Hey,” Matt says. His voice is smooth, a hint of invitation in the single word.
“Hey,” Marly says. “We were just talking about new, uh, things.”
Glory can’t make out Kennedy’s voice in the abrupt laughter. She needs to see what is happening. She takes a deep breath, pokes her head around the corner. Kennedy, close to Matt, is scraping her red-lacquered nails down his arm. Matt’s eyes are dark. His lip slides upward as he slowly leans in to cup the back of the girl’s neck with his hand and whispers.
“Any time, Matt,” Kennedy says, curling her hand around his arm. “Any time.”
He laughs, a guttural sound. He turns sharply on his heel, walks away.
“I’ll take those hands and whatever else he wants to give,” Kennedy says, her eyes firmly on his retreating form. “Yeah, I can slum for that.”
The bile rises in Glory’s throat. Kennedy treated Matt like a piece of meat. And the way he touched her just now, smiled at her? This is the boy she walks to school with. She doesn’t know him. Not at all.