Malaysia: “Oh. Well what does that have to do with us?”
Jordan: “What do you want us to do about it?”
Jessica: “Uhhh…”
I stare at the screen, my stomach dropping as the truth sets in. Are they seriously asking me that? Yeah I’m the one who brought Samantha into this group sure—but they are one’s who made her feel special enough to act the way she does now. Without me inviting her in, they wouldn’t even know her. And now they’re choosing her over me, like I’mthe problem. Like my problems are just an inconvenience they can’t be bothered with.
The truth’s been sitting in my face this whole time—I just kept pretending it wasn’t. But now I can’t deny it. They clearly like Samantha more than me.
Instead of wasting my energy lashing out like I really fucking want too, I remove myself from the group chat. I won’t swallow this easily, but I also won’t look back. They don’t want me around anymore, and I know I don’t want friends who don’t even care about me.
I still can’t believe I’ve been this fucking blind.
I hope one day I’ll find people that’ll love me how I want to be loved. But right now I don’t have it in me to fight for a friendship that’s already flatlined, especially when they’re the ones who stopped trying first.
Maybe everyone’s right—high school friendships don’t last past graduation.
At home, I feel alone. And now I’m alone at school too. If I can’t be enough for the people I thought loved me—I’ll be enough for myself.
Miss Hernandez writes on the board, the marker squeaking against it, but the words blur together. I stare straight ahead, nodding when I’m suppose to, pretending to take notes, but all I can think about is everything I’ve just lost—my friends, my sense of control and the version of me that believed in people when they said forever.
The lesson keeps going, but I’ve already checked out. Because right now, I’m learning something different—that sometimes growing up means watching the people you love outgrow you.
Chapter Seven
Senior Year
S
enior year is depressing, plain and simple. The only thing I’m grateful for is the car. At least it gives me a place to sit during lunch without anyone bothering me.
My car is my little escape. My reminder that even if no one wants me around, I can get up and leave whenever I need to. Without it, I’d be stuck walking around this school with people I don’t even trust.
I do almost everything alone now. From lunch in my car, to hiding in Mrs. Hernandez’s classroom during senior pictures and other fake “senior activities” they try to force upon us. I refuse to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with people who lost the privilege of being in my presence.
Disappearing is easier than pretending—and by now, I’ve mastered it.
Everyone’s changed since the beginning of freshman year to now. And sure, I’ve changed too—but not likethem. Their changes are about drifting apart, outgrowing each other and choosing new friend groups. While mine are about survival.
I’m not just trying to finish senior year—I’m preparing myself on how to survive after graduation alone.
If my sad little life has taught me anything, it’s that nothing good ever lasts. No matter how hard you love, you end up alone. I thought at least one of my old friends would try to reach out by now, but their silence says everything.
I try telling myself I’m used to rejection, but the truth is I’m not.
It still hurts every fucking time.
It’s been three weeks since I’ve spoken to any of them. I haven’t even seen them in the halls. I guess they’ve already found a new route to their classes just to avoid me.
And somehow, that hurts worse than the silence online. It’s one thing to be ignored through a screen—it’s another to watch the people who once swore they loved you pretend you don’t exist.
I continue to tell myself it’s fine, that I don’t need them, but I still catch myself scanning the hallways after every class half-expecting to see them waiting for me.
It’s pathetic, really, the way hope lingers even after you know better. They’ve moved on, and I’m alone—walking the same halls we used to walk together, halls that once felt like home but are now filled with people who don’t even want to see me.
? ? ?
It’s a lunch time and like usual, I head for Miss Hernandez’s class. She’s the only sanity I get in this wholebuilding. I don’t even bother trying to make new friends. And with it being senior year—It’s too late to start over anyway.
