“You cut your bangs,” Raj says.
I shrug. Place my hand over my forehead.
“Just wanted to see how you were.”
“I’m fine,” I say defensively.
I don’t like that he’s saying this to me. I don’t want him to remind me that he knows something. Or that something happened. I don’t want anything to have happened.
“Okay.” He looks away.
“Why are you even asking me?”
“’Cause I saw you run out of there last night all freaked out. I couldn’t catch up to you. Too many people. And then you didn’t text me back. And Sammi wouldn’t say anything today when I talked to her.”
“I didn’t notice that you texted me.”
I didn’t notice because I had my phone off. Because I chose to ignore everyone.
“Anyway, I saw Nessel this morning at soccer practice,” Raj says.
“Yeah?”
“He said that I should check on you.”
“Oh? What a nice guy.” I crunch my knees to my chest. Hang my head over them like a pretzel.
“Did he say anything else?”
“That you were shaken up.”
“Did he say why I was shaken up?”
I hear Sean Nessel saying it, so innocent. Check on her, dude. She was shaken up, man. And then a surge of rage comes over me, and I turn into a human volcano of spitfire, shaking and sputtering. So I say it because I’m fuming and I can’t hold it in.
“We did it, all right? We did it and it was awful. Like the worst night of my life. Like the worst, worst thing ever. So bad that I don’t even want to talk about it because I can’t believe that it’s me talking to you about something that I feel so fucking embarrassed about.”
I smash my feet in the grass. The damp grass pokes through my flip-flops. It’s the first time since last night that I can feel anything besides my sore thighs and crotch. I don’t want Raj to see me like this. But he’s here. In my yard. And he’s listening.
I cover my face with my hair like that Addams Family character Cousin It. If I could just walk around like this for a few days. I fantasize about finding an escape route through my hair.
I don’t want Raj to worry about me. I know he doesn’t know what to say to me. He knows I’m a virgin. That I was a virgin. We’re close enough for him to know that. If there was a way to bury it. To cover my body with leaves so no one could see me or hear me or find me. Every part of me is telling myself not to speak about last night and to just shove it down into a dark place in my soul so that it just goes away.
Raj curls forward and plops his feet down, leans over so that our knees touch.
But I don’t want to be touched. So I move my knees away.
“What are you thinking about?” Raj says.
I stare at my rusty swing set that is still taking up space in the yard.
“I’m thinking about how my dad needs to get rid of that old thing because the only person who uses it is the little kid next door.”
9
BLYTHE
Monday morning. It’s not difficult to find her.
In a matter of asking three juniors, I learn that Ali Greenleaf has fourth period class right down the hall from me. I’ve got my leather tote bag packed—I haven’t worn a backpack since freshman year—so when the bell rings, I zip right for the door and zoom down the hall, waiting in front of her classroom like I’ve been there all my life. Her face looks drawn and tired. She has greenish bags under her eyes. And something else. These too-short bangs that are different from that loose-curl-over-the-eye look I saw her with the other night.
She’s fumbling with her books as she walks out. I tickle the back of her arm to get her attention and she turns around. She’s wearing faded jeans, Converse sneakers, and a black T-shirt. I see why Sean thought she was cute. She’s a little rebel. Nothing like me.
ALI
Blythe Jensen is standing in front of me. Smiling. Blythe’s best friends with Sean Nessel. So if she’s talking to me, then it means it has something to do with him. And it has something to do with what happened. I take a step back. My heart stops, almost.
BLYTHE
“Ali, right? You’re friends with Cherie’s little sister.”
She stops and nods at me. Says nothing, her eyes vacant. I wonder if she remembers me from the party.
“Hel-lo?” I laugh. She’s still staring. Like I’m a ghost. “Do you smoke?”
“Smoke . . . weed?”
“You’re funny—uh, no, do you smoke cigarettes?”
She looks at me. Watching me. Her eyes like green sapphires. She takes a deep pause.
“As long as they’re unfiltered.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No, I’m just tough like that. I break the filters off before I smoke,” she says, almost slurring, and stares at me blankly. Then smirks. “Of course I don’t smoke unfiltered. What am I, a maniac?”
I laugh, and I didn’t expect to laugh. Maybe I’ve underestimated her. I ask her if she wants to come with me somewhere that we can talk. She says sure.
Ali trails me as we walk over to the C-wing. “You don’t have to walk five feet behind me. You’re not a servant,” I say. So she scoots next to me, just staring. Which is fine for now. It can’t stay that way—it’s too annoying. Besides, the other girls won’t like it. They’ll see it as a weakness.
I think about texting Cate and Suki so that I can give them a heads-up about Ali, but surprising them will be a better tactic. Anyway, I need to keep those bitches on their toes. I can bring anyone into the C-wing bathroom I want.
ALI
Have you ever walked next to a girl like Blythe Jensen? Her hair is a commercial. It’s blond and has a wave and somehow no frizz. It swings from side to side. Her skin is so smooth that she has no bumps. It’s glowy and flawless. I rub my own scaly elbows and make a note to myself: use more moisturizer.
I’m going to have a minor breakdown. She’s bringing me into the C-wing bathroom. The C-wing is designated as a senior bathroom. This is not a school designation. This is just a known fact. If you’re not a senior and you have a class in C-wing, you do not use that bathroom or else you might as well transfer to another school. A select group of senior girls smoke cigarettes in there. (Everyone’s gone back to cigarettes. Because if vaping is going to kill you, you might as well just smoke the old-fashioned way.)