I gasp through choppy breaths, feeling like I’m about to burst from the inside out.
I can’t stay here forever. No one will come looking for me. No one will ask where I am.
My phone is still in the small pocket of my bag, and I don’t know if they left it there on purpose or if they were in a hurry and forgot it.
I could call Jamie. Ask for his help, but I can’t. I can’t let him see me like this. Audrey could help, but she already left before I got out of the shower, and I don’t have her number.
I have no one but myself.
I glance down at my T-shirt and get an idea. It’s the only thing I have that I can wrap around my head.
When I fasten it, making sure there are no stray hairs, and look at myself in the mirror, I want to cry all over again.
My eyes are swollen, my nose red, the long shirt wrinkled. And the makeshift hijab looks comical. It bunches on the side, and I look like I should be committed. I can smell myself, and it makes me want to gag.
The humiliation is searing, branded on me, and I don’t think it’ll ever go away.
I don’t want to leave the gym, but I have no choice. I need to find my sketchbook. If I don’t have it, I have nothing.
I splash cold water onto my face and smooth down the shirt-hijab.
The hallway outside is empty. Everyone should be at lunch. I take out my phone and call Alexis.
She doesn’t pick up on the first try, so I call again.
This time she picks up on the fourth ring.
“What’s up?” she says lightly.
“Did you know?” I ask in a scratchy voice, throat raw and voice tight from tears.
“Know what?”
“What Nicole was going to do?” I hiccup. “Take my—my sketchbook.”
There are loud conversations in the background, and I imagine her surrounded by her friends and boyfriend, having the time of her life.
“Ji, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alexis says, her tone concerned. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I snap. “I am not fucking okay. Your friends stole my sketchbook. I need it back now.”
I hear her shifting in her seat. “Okay, I have no idea what you’re talking about. We were together the whole time, and they didn’t touch your things. Do you really think I would let them do that?”
I laugh, and it hurts my throat. “Alexis, they took my hijab. My school uniform. I’m wearing my gym clothes. I have a shirt for a hijab. Don’t you dare gaslight me. You know they did this. Tell them I need my sketchbook. Ineedit.”
Alexis sighs. “Ji, I’m sorry this happened to you. Where are you?”
I lean my head against the wall, banging it slightly. “Just ask them if they have it. Or I’m going to the principal.”
“Okay, fine.” Then out loud, away from the phone, she asks, “Hey, girls. Hey! Listen, did you take Ji’s stuff? Her sketchbook?”
I hear a high-pitched giggle, and then Nicole says, “No, of course not. Why would we do that?”
“Yeah, we have a life, Alexis,” Hayley says nonchalantly. “Oh my God, truffle fries!”
“They don’t have it,” Alexis says to me. “Where are you?”
I stay quiet, biting my tongue so hard I can taste blood.
