“Jake,” I choked out, tears spilling before I could stop them, “please. Stop.”
He turned instantly, the anger draining into panic when he saw my face.
“Oh. Shit—Frankie, I didn’t?—”
But it was too late.
The tears came hard, fast, unstoppable.
Mortifying.
Mr. G stood, voice softening. “Frankie, hey—hey, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want you to have support.”
Jake looked like he wanted to throw himself into traffic.
I stood too quickly, vision blurring. “I just—I need a minute.”
Jake reached for me. “Frankie?—”
I stepped back.
His face fell.
Mr. G swore under his breath and grabbed a box of tissues.
But I was already heading for the door—heart pounding, breath stinging, the whole awful day crashing down on me at once.
Not for the first time, I wanted to scream. None of this was fair. None of it.
How much worse could it get? What a stupid question, because the answer was “a lot worse, idiot.” Now I had a teacher suggesting I give up. Give up, drop a class, walk away.
I wasn’t just overwhelmed. I was wrecked. Ruined. Shaken apart so thoroughly I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to walk to the parking lot, let alone survive another day of this.
I hated my life so damn much.
Chapter
Thirteen
FRANKIE
The final bell rang overhead, but I barely saw the hallway or the students who poured into the hallway rushing to clubs, buses, the parking lot, and friends. Blinking rapidly, I fought to keep the tears in check. All I wanted was a place to hide and for this horrible day to just be over. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this—messy, trembling, undone.
I ducked into the nearest bathroom, slammed the door, and pressed my forehead against the cool wood. Hot tears streaked my cheeks as I tried to swallow back the sobs.Get it together, Frankie. Just… get it together.
A soft knock made me flinch. “Frankie?” The voice was calm, steady. Patient. Familiar.
Straightening, I sniffled and wiped at my face. The hope whoever it was would go away died swiftly as Rachel pushed the door inward. She looked great—light, effortless, almost bohemian in a way that made it hard to breathe. Her khaki capris were relaxed but flattering, and her top had that floaty, textured drape that managed to look both cool and casually sophisticated, perfect for an October afternoon still holding onto summer.
Her hair was swept up in a loose pony tail, a few strands escaping in deliberate chaos, giving her an easy, creative edge that I found myself envying right now, even as I blinked rapidly. I did not want to keep crying in front of her.
Not that she seemed remotely fooled. She closed the door behind her and set her back to it. She didn’t say a word at first.
Head tilted, she gave me a once over without a hint of judgment in her hazel eyes. “You okay?”
The answer was obvious, Rachel missed very little. Yet, she still let me decide how I wanted to handle this latest meltdown. It might be easier to hate her for telling me what she had last spring. Everything that had happened since then…
No sooner had that uncharitable thought tried to dig in that I ripped it out by the roots. Rachel wasn’t responsible for anyone’s choices but her own. She told me the truth. What I did or didn’t do after, well that was on me.
