I nod, even though she can’t see, and wait until she’s vacated the bathroom before stepping out of the stall. Sidling up to the mirror, I wince at my red-rimmed eyes and ghostly pale complexion. I’d noticed some color returning to my cheeks over the past few weeks, but it’s gone now. I’m white as a sheet, my skin practically translucent.
After rinsing my mouth out and wiping my eyes, I take a deep breath and head back out to the library. I don’t sit. I begin to gather up my books, conscious that Remy and Quinn are watching me with concern, probably worried I might burst into tears at any moment.
I might, but they don’t need to know that.
“We were going to go back to Remy’s tonight, but would you rather I go to the apartment?” Quinn asks as I stuff books into my backpack. “It’s not a big deal.”
“No, no,” I assure. “You two do what you originally planned. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe you should go to Wes’s, so you’re not alone?”
“Maybe,” I say and offer her a tense smile. Honestly, right now, all I want is to be on my own. “See you guys later.”
“Alright,” Quinn says, her voice sounding a bit reluctant. “Well, text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Hang in there, Ivy,” says Remy.
I nod at both of them, but the moment I turn away, my strong façade crumbles. I blink back tears and tell myself to get a grip.
Walking through the library, I keep my head down and try to go unnoticed, but it feels like everyone’s watching me. Staring at me. Judging me. The girls at the coffee stand who shoot me dirty looks before whispering behind their hands. The sorority sisters who laugh at me the moment I pass them on the sidewalk. The boys leering at me like they’ve read the comments and want in on the action.
My skin crawls. I might never leave my room again.
I’m halfway back to the dorm when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Wes:I hate to say it, but I think we should start the prequels tonight, just to get the full Star Wars experience.I’ve heard The Phantom Menace isn’t as bad as people remember…
Normally, I’d respond with a resoundinglet’s do it, but now I just tuck my phone away and keep walking. I guess Wes is unaware of the forum, which makes sense because it’s not exactly targetinghim.I decide I don’t want him to find out about it. Not now. Not ever.
The last thing I need is for him to read Alexis’s comment.
When I make it home, I’m thankful to find the apartment empty. After washing up in the bathroom and vigorously brushing my teeth, I shut myself in my room and change out of my jeans. I crawl into bed and vow not to come out for the rest of the night.
A few tears leak onto the pillow as I respond to Wes’s text.
Me:I’m sorry but I’m actually not feeling great. Rain check?
Wes:Is everything okay? Do you need anything?
Me:I’m okay, really. Just need to sleep off whatever it is.
I’m aware that this is what those girls want. To drive a wedge between us. To humiliate and shame me enough that I cut him out of my life altogether.
Maybe you should...
I can’t.
I crave him too much. His attention, his affection, his light. His smilemakes my day, and don’t get me started on his laugh. I can’t cut him out. At this point, it would be like cutting off a limb. It would be detrimental to my health, and I really, truly mean that.
In the past few weeks, I’ve seen a difference in myself. I smile more. I stutter less. I actually want human company and outside air. I’ve gained back my appetite and a little weight along with it. Even when Wes isn’t in the room with me, it feels like he is. We text constantly, and in the classes where I’m alone, I’m neverreallyalone because he’s only a message away.
Cutting him out is not an option, but a little bit of space might not be the worst thing in the world. We’ve been inseparable since the speech, and people were bound to notice eventually. I just didn’t think it would make national news or trend on the dark side of the internet, where everyone apparently has some sort of negative opinion to voice.
Lights off, blinds shut, bundled beneath the blankets, I doze on and off. I let the hours slip away until I hear a knock on the door to the apartment. At first, I think the banging’s in my dreams, but when it continues on, I roll out of bed and crack my bedroom door. The knocking persists. Wondering who would show up unannounced and praying it’s not someone here to meet Kinsley or Ava, I shuffle over and reluctantly open the door.
The last person I’m expecting to find is Wes, standing with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. He’s got a sullen look on his face in place of the usual easygoing grin, and it seems unnatural.
“Hey,” he says softly, dark eyes boring into mine.
