Rob can’t see me from this angle, which is worse than if he could, because it means I can stare as hard and as long as I like. He whispers something to her, and she laughs, then brings her finger to her lips to tell him to be quiet. But it’s in that cute way certain girls have that lets everyone know they don’t really mean it. That she wants him to go on bothering her forever. Even while turning him down she’s inviting him. Forget the lip biting. This is definitely her power move.
He’s leaning so close to her that it takes everything in me not to run right over and tear them apart. And part of me wants to. Part of me wants to fight. To tell him to pick me. To beg him to stop what he’s doing, erase the last three days, and just come back. But I’m already fading into the background, like a house in the rearview mirror. I can feel myself getting smaller and smaller, shrinking, so that when Mr. Johnson says, “Have a great day, everyone!” I think I might have just disappeared.
And then assembly is over and students grab their bags and descend from the bleachers. We start getting trampled, jostled to the side. Olivia yells, “Owww!” pushing back against the crowd, but I let it shuffle me outside.
I feel like a pebble in the river—small, smooth, and sinking.I don’t even have enough weight to settle, though. I’m just kicked forward by gravity.
Someone’s hand is on my shoulder, and I turn around. It’s Charlie, and she buries her chin into my hair and whispers, “She is so going down. Don’t worry.” I wish there really was something we could do to fix this. That girls didn’t have to play these kind of games. That ostracizing Juliet would in some way keep them apart. More than that, though, I just wish this wasn’t happening. That she’d never invited him. That he’d never said yes. And that it hadn’t taken me so long to realize he was the one I wanted to be with.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“It is not fine,” Charlie says again.
“Listen, I’m going to be late for calc.” I wiggle myself out of her grip. “I’ll catch up with you at lunch?”
“Okay,” Charlie says, but she’s squinting at me, trying to read something off of my face. “Hey, Rosie,” she says. The sound of my nickname startles me. Rob is the only one who usually calls me that.
“Yeah?”
“It’s going to be okay.” She says it firmly, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.
“I know,” I say, but it’s not true. For the first time it feels like nothing is going to be okay. Like something went very, very wrong. That the course of things, the natural order, has beentampered with. As I trudge up to the math cubicles, I can’t help but keep thinking,This isn’t how it was supposed to go.
The day moves absurdly slowly, like it’s dragging its heels. Everything seems to be happening in slow motion, like I’m falling backward, except I never hit the ground. I wonder if this is how it’s going to be from now on. If I’m going to be stuck in high school forever.
AP Bio is even worse than last week. Mrs. Barch gives us a pop quiz at the beginning of the period that I haven’t done the reading for because I’ve been moping around my room all weekend like somebody died.
I literally do not know the answer to a single one of these questions. I’m sandwiched between Lauren, who is bent down intently, methodically working through the problems, and Len, who is scribbling animatedly, like he’s trying to piss me off. I feel beyond pathetic. Even the class joker is managing to ace this thing.
The worst part is that after we’re finished, Mrs. Barch makes us grade each other’s quizzes while she runs an errand. Since it’s an AP class, we’re supposed to “use our sense of merit” while she’s gone. Of course, since Len’s my lab partner, we’re meant to swap quizzes.
He gives me that lopsided smirk and rubs his hands together. “Hand it over, Rosaline.”
He tosses his to me freely, like he’s Charlie passing me a sparkling water at lunch. I look it over. I’m surprised to see his handwriting is actually neat and his problems look fairly organized.
“Since when have you shown any initiative?” I ask, holding it up.
He shrugs. “I was in the mood to study this weekend.”
“Right. Sure. You just felt like it.”
He smirks. “Why so blue?”
“Mrs. Barch is ruining my life,” I mutter.
“She’s not so bad,” he says, knocking me on the back. “You know she runs drama?”
“How is that relevant?”
He makes a face like,Yikes,and holds his hands up. “You get extra credit if you help out with one of her plays.”
“For bio?”
Len nods. “So are you going to show me that thing?” He gestures to the quiz that’s still tucked neatly under my elbow.
“I didn’t…,” I start, but I’m not sure what to say, so I give up and hand it to him.
He whistles. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
