I’m trying to follow her train of thought, but sometimes it’s tough to figure her out. “We haven’t been dating that long.”
“But you have a whole scrapbook of articles with him in them.”
I frown. That scrapbook is hidden in the back of my closet. “How would you know that, Fen?”
“Um… Uh, I was…I was looking for something, and uh…uh…I found the scrapbook. I have to go. I need to get ready for cello. Please don’t tell Mom that I told you they were fighting about you.”
She hangs up.
“Well, that’s great.” I tip my head back and scowl at the sky. “I can’t even rat her out for being a snoop.”
“What?” A girl passing by gives me a funny look.
“Oh my God, isn’t she the one who’s banging all the Terror players?” her friend whispers, loudly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I throw my hands in the air. “I’m not banging the entire hockey team, you assholes! It’s AI-generated nonsense. Get a goddamn clue.” There are some new, fun pictures with my face photoshopped all over them.
They rush off, giggling.
It starts to rain.
I want to scream.
It’s pouring by the time I reach my apartment building. I didn’t check the weather this morning. Otherwise, I would have packed an umbrella. Once I’m in my apartment I can have a nice cry, followed by an eye treatment to manage the puffiness.
I keep my head down as I walk through the foyer, heading for the elevators. But the whispers still reach my ears.
“That’s Flip Madden’s girlfriend…”
“…Did you see the photos of her with Madden and Stiles…”
“…Weren’t those photoshopped…”
“…Or maybe not…”
“…Imagine being in the middle of that sandwich.”
I bypass the elevator and take the stairs, so I can start my cry sooner. I’m sobbing and wheezing by the time I get to my floor. I have to wait another two minutes because there’s a gaggle at the elevator, and I do not want to run into anyone right now.
The elevator finally comes, and the hall empties. I rush to my door, but I can’t find my key fob. It’s not in any of the usual pockets. I bang my forehead on my door a few times, but I don’t need a bruised face to round out this shitty day, so I dump out my bag and find the key fob stuck inside a textbook.
And because today is the worst, Parsnip escapes into the hall the moment I open the door. I deflate. “I hate my life.”
I shove all my shit inside the apartment, flip the safety so I don’t have to struggle to get back in, and spend the next ten minutes trying to corral Parsnip. “If Flip was here, you’d be all over him like a freaking catnip toy,” I gripe. Eventually he tires of being chased and returns to the apartment.
“You’re an asshole,” I tell him as he trots down the hall.
He just meows.
My phone rings again with a call from my dad. I let it go to voicemail. I can’t deal with my own feelings currently, let alone anyone else’s.
But I still listen to the message.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s your dad. I’m sure you already know that. I just wanted to check in. Your mom’s worried about you. So am I. I know you’re an adult, but this uh…it has to be a lot for you. If you need anything, prepared meals, groceries, anything at all, just call. I miss you. Send me a message when you get this. Love you lots, Tally-Bear.”
I drop into a heap in the hall and let the tears spill over.
My phone buzzes again.
