And then I see us in the school bathroom at the end of junior year. I remember her screaming in my face as the walls crumble down around me and my world implodes, along with our friendship and what little was left of my sanity?—
I shove away the memory before my brain malfunctions.
“Oh, wow, Ivy,” Alexis says, her nose wrinkling. “I forgot you go here.”
“H-hi,” I force out, and my face flames when I stumble over the word. I haven’t seen her in months, and only then in passing on the quad, but she looks the same as she always does. Beautiful. Confident. She always wasthat girl,the one others gravitated toward. There was something magnetic about her. Something inexplicably compelling.Maybe it was her apathy toward authority figures, or the way she could wear anythingand somehow look like a model. She had an uncanny ability to make you feel cooler from a single shared eye roll, and a composure around boys that the rest of us lacked.
I don’t want to think about that, though. I really don’t want to think about that.
The stall door at the end of the row swings open, and a blonde I’ve never seen before emerges. Her eyes shift from Alexis to me as she walks to the sink. “Everything good, Lex?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alexis says, leaning her hip against the counter. She gives me a painfully slow once-over. “You look…kind ofdepressing. No offense. College really doesn’t agree with you, does it?”
My mouth twitches down—I can’t help it—because I have no response to that.
Alexis’s eyebrows raise, and she glances between me and the stall like she’s figured something out. Her eyes spark with cruelty. “Oh, you weren’t…you’re not…there are better ways to drop a few pounds than sticking your finger down your throat, Ivy.”
My mouth pops open, and I scramble for a comeback, tripping over my words again. “I-I wasn’t?—”
“You hardly had any to lose.” She looks at her friend—my replacement. “In high school, boys used to droolover her tits like bloodhounds. It was disgusting, but you really took advantage of it, didn’t you, Ivy? You just couldn’t fucking help yourself.”
Her words make my stomach jolt. “I don’t—I didn’t?—”
“Save it,” she snaps. “I guess you don’t have that problem anymore, do you?” Her eyes turn pitying, but not before they flash with utter disdain.
There’s nothing left of my former friend. No compassion. No concern. Growing up, I always felt sorry for anyone who got on Alexis Cane’s bad side because she was relentless in her contempt. If you were in her inner circle, she’d make you feel like the most important person in the world, but the moment you crossed her…the moment you crossed her, she’d make you regret it for the rest of your life.
“It’s okay, Ivy,” she says. “Madison and I will give you some privacy.” She steps toward the door, then pauses and begins rifling through her purse. She pulls out a case of Altoids and makes a big show of placing two on the counter, next to the sink. Then, she looks me dead in the eye and smiles. “For after.”
Alexis and Madison walk past me, not even trying to hide their snickers as they exit the bathroom. The second the doorswings shut on their lingering laughter, I lunge into the stall closest to me and dry heave over the toilet.
Nothing comes out, but my vision goes hazy around the edges, and I stay crouched until my stomach settles. My face crumples, and my chest feels like it’s ripping open, the pain like shards stabbing through skin and bone and tissue, straight to the heart. I press my hands to my sternum and close my eyes.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
Stratus was supposed to be my escape from those painful high school memories, but how can I start fresh when the past keeps coming out of nowhere? How can I move on in college when I’m barely getting by?
Six. Five. Four. Three.
Impossible. It’s impossible.
Two. One.
I spend too much time in the bathroom, drying my tears, catching my breath.
I keep my head down on the walk back to my table, and my hands shake as I stuff my books back into my bag. As I rush toward the exit, I think I hear Quinn call my name, but I’m probably imagining it.
Why would she, after all? I’m not worth her concern.
I’m not worth anyone’s.
When I make it back to the empty dorm, I lock my bedroom door, change into my grungiest sweatpants, and cocoon myself in my comforter. With no solid defense against the world, the past, and the memories that haunt me, all I can do is cry.
So that’s what I do.
THREE
Thursday morning is unwelcome,but it arrives anyway.
