Aimee sucked in a breath. “That... I get it, but Helen brought that on herself.”
The ensuing silence went on for far too long. I was sure I was breathing loud enough for them to hear the quick, panicky breaths that telegraphed all my fears. That Kyle didn’t like me. Had never liked me. Hadn’t wanted to hang out with me much at school because that might imply a real relationship. Had only seen me as a stopgap make-out girl until he could secure something with Leah.
“And besides, Leah’s really into you. Athena isn’t. You know Leah wants to go to homecoming with you,” Aimee wheedled. “You’re not her second best. And you know how much she needs you right now.”
More silence, more feeling like I was going to throw up. The weight of all that silence pushed down on me. I’d had my doubts about Kyle’s feelings for me, but now I could feel his doubts about me, too. Aimee and Leah had probably made it seem like every time I tried to help Helen, I was really trying to ignore him or something. That my lunches with my friends were part of me limiting him to a small corner in my life.
“I’ll think about it,” Kyle said.
My heart exploded.
“Please,” Aimee pleaded. I wanted to strangle the girlish whine right out of her.
“Oh, all right,” he said, relenting. “You’re right... I need to make a choice. I’ll go to the dance with Leah, but I have to break it off with Athena first. So don’t go prancing off to rub it in.”
In that one sentence, all my hopes vanished. “Needing to make a choice” didn’t imply that he was going to homecoming with Leah as a friend. It implied that Leah and I had somehow, until this very moment, been on some kind of equal footing. That meant that something beyond tutoring had been going on between them. I didn’t know the boundaries of what that something was, but I suspected it was likely as far as I’d gone with him—which meant that Kyle wasn’t the boy I’d thought he was. He’d barely considered my feelings for him, and had so easily allowed Aimee to persuade him that I didn’t care. He wasn’t at all worried about breaking my heart. He was worried about telling me before being found out.
I had to get out of there. I ran down the steps of the carrel area and through the stacks. Maybe Kyle and Aimee saw me, maybe not. Either way, it didn’t matter.
I didn’t get it. Why would Leah do this? She’d already had Sean, who adored her, and I’d always thought she’d cared a lot about him, too. Why did she have to take Kyle from me?
And then I realized, if he could be taken that easily, he wasn’t ever mine at all.
I bolted back to religion class, making it just in time to hand Mrs. Bonnecaze the note from Sister Catherine before the bell rang. She took one look at me, saw that I was shell-shocked, and read the note. Then she read it again, because the look on my face told her it was bad news—which the note wasn’t.
“I see you have permission for that patch.” She pursed her lips together. Sister Catherine’s permission slip also applied to everyone, and not just me, which likely didn’t make Mrs. Bonnecaze any happier. “But it looks like whatever Sister Catherine told you has gotten you to think seriously about some things.”
I stared up at her blankly. I should have been celebrating my small victory against the administration, but instead I felt like my heart had been pulled out of me and stomped on.
“Um, yes.” My body was screaming at me to run away from her—not because of anything she’d done, but because I couldn’t handle human interaction right now. “I have a lot to think about. See you tomorrow.”
It didn’t matter that all the things I had to think about were related to Kyle, and that they’d temporarily stopped any other thoughts from entering my head. I don’t know how I made it to calculus, when the buzzing swarm of a haze that had surrounded me in the library refused to lift. I shoved my books under my desk and put my head down. I didn’t look up when Kyle passed me on his way to his desk—I could not, would not, gratify him with my tears.
“Hey,” I heard Kyle say. “You okay?”
He stood by my desk, so close I could feel him. If I didn’t look at him, I’d come across as the antisocial freak that Aimee described. If I did, then I would show how much he’d hurt me.
Fine. He needed to know, if only to prove Aimee wrong.
I raised my head and looked at him. His amber eyes held a look of genuine concern, but maybe I only saw what I wanted to see. Apparently, I had misjudged him in so many other respects.
“I was in the library the whole time, Kyle.” The calm in my voice surprised me, but I was sure he could tell I had been crying. Saying the words felt empowering, but they didn’t change anything. Except now he knew, and if he had any bit of conscience left, he’d feel guilty. Which he deserved.
“Oh, shit,” Kyle said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean—”
“Kyle Buchanan, please take your seat,” Mr. Loring, our calculus teacher, said as he walked to the front of the room to start his lecture.
Kyle glanced down at me and bit his lip, then continued down the row. I put my head on my desk again.
“Miss Graves, is something wrong?” Mr. Loring paused by my desk, peering at me through his round John Lennon glasses.
“I’m not feeling well.”
Mr. Loring looked at my eyes, which I was sure were red and puffy.
“Do you want to go to the nurse’s office?” His expression seemed like he might be thinking my eyes were red because I’d suddenly decided to join the stoners out behind the school for a joint.
“Umm, no,” I said, my mouth quivering. “I just want to stay here.” I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up from my desk and everyone watching me as I exited, sobbing. And the nurse would probably send me to Mrs. Turner, who was the last person I wanted to see.
His expression softened. “All right. Just let me know if you change your mind, and I’ll write you a pass.” I nodded, and Mr. Loring turned back to the board.
“Okay, everyone, we’re going to start with chapter five today,” he said, thumping his book onto his desk.
I’d done my homework, but I had no interest in chapter five—though I found that my book did make a pretty good pillow when it was open. I couldn’t remember what chapter five covered, let alone concentrate on Mr. Loring’s lecture. Nothing compared to the crushing weight pressing against my chest right now.
How could Kyle ditch me for Leah? What had I done wrong?
Every fear I’d ever had about dating a boy had come true at once. He’d never said we were dating—he was just using me as a warm-up to someone else, and I felt stupid for thinking our dates meant something. For believing that some perfect unicorn boy was real.
And I was angry. I was angry at myself for not realizing Aimee and Leah would target me next. I’d given Leah far too many reasons. I’d embarrassed her in public, at Denny’s, though she’d turned that one around on me, too. Along with Melissa and the gang, I’d made too much headway in confronting her gossip about Helen. I found myself wondering if Leah even liked Kyle, or if she only wanted him because he’d liked me, and the fact that I didn’t know either way made me angry. I was angry with Aimee for lying to Kyle, and I was angry with Kyle for believing her.
But mostly, I just hurt.
The bell rang, and I went to physics, where I ignored Kyle some more by counting the polka dots on Mrs. Breaux’s blouse. Then, suddenly, the day was more than half over. Knowing that I only had three more classes, none of which Kyle was in, offered the tiniest bit of relief. If I could just avoid Kyle, Sean, Leah, and Aimee in the halls, I would be okay. As soon as I realized the enormity of that task, the relief disappeared, replaced with a certain sense of doom.
By the end of physics, I wanted to go home. Instead, I went to lunch—and the inevitable interrogation by my friends once they caught sight of me.
I darted toward the classroom door, trying to lose anyone who might follow me. O
r who might comment on my puffy eyes and snotty face.
“Athena, wait up!”
I pivoted on my heel automatically. I shouldn’t give Kyle time to explain, but I couldn’t stop my body from turning toward him. Like in the library, I had to hear what he would say.
“What do you want?” Melissa asked. She pushed herself between us, her arms crossed, like a club bouncer. I hadn’t noticed her following me. I looked at her gratefully, knowing she would defend me, so I could turn and walk away.
“Please, Melissa, I’ve got to talk to Athena,” Kyle said. “I can explain.”
I paused, even though I had no great faith in Kyle’s explanation. He couldn’t possibly make this better. Not after that conversation I’d overheard. Still, right now, part of me wanted Kyle to say something magical, to make this all go away and rewind to an hour or two ago.
“It’s okay,” I said, looking at Melissa. “This shouldn’t take long. I don’t think there’s much more he can say.”
I couldn’t believe those words actually came out of my mouth. I had nothing left to lose except a small shred of pride, which I held on to for dear life. I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t going to yell. I was going to listen to him, calmly, and then I was going to walk away.
Melissa took up a post leaning up against a row of lockers, absently turning locks. She heaved a large sigh and rolled her eyes in an elaborate display of impatience every time Kyle opened his mouth to talk.
“I’m sorry you heard what Aimee said in the library, but that was what she said, not me, and I don’t agree with it,” Kyle said. “I like you.” He paused, a little too long. If he stopped there, maybe he could erase the conversation that I’d heard in the library. Maybe he could redeem himself, come up with something that would give me faith in him again. “But I have a connection with Leah, too. She’s been going through a lot, and I get it. But it’s not like what you think. I was just friends with her until now. Really.”
Just friends until now? I felt my fist tighten and a hot bolt of anger run through me. I didn’t believe him. He wouldn’t ditch me if he didn’t already have something going on with her. It made no sense. She was “going through a lot”? That was the most paper-thin excuse I’d ever heard. Like I was going through nothing lately. My sister was in trouble with the school, and one of my best friends hated me.
Leah was behind both of those things, and Kyle knew it. He knew it. We’d talked about it. I’d given him the So What? pin. I glanced at his backpack. Sure enough, it was gone.
“If you’re going to the dance with Leah because of anything Aimee says, then you’re more gullible than any other guy at this school,” Melissa said without looking up from her locker tampering.
“This isn’t your business,” Kyle said, turning his attention to Melissa. “I—”
“You’re a jerk.” She finally looked up from her lock twisting and faced him with crossed arms. “Yeah. An asshole. I overheard Aimee and Leah talking about their strategy this morning. If you’d ever taken a second to ask yourself who has more interest in lying to you, you wouldn’t for a second doubt how much Athena likes you. And her feelings for you never—not now, not then, not ever—had anything to do with making Sean jealous. Unlike Leah.”
Kyle’s gaze dropped to the floor near his feet. He seemed to stop talking forever, but he didn’t leave, despite Melissa’s fierce stare indicating the conversation was over.
“I really like you, Athena,” he said eventually, looking at me. “I want you to know that. But I like Leah, too. I didn’t expect that to happen. She and I have a lot in common, with our parents both having problems right now. I just... I thought if I talked with you beforehand, you might be okay with me going to the dance with Leah. As friends. She needs more friends.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said, shocking myself almost as much as Melissa and Kyle. Maybe he was right that Leah needed more friends, because Aimee was terrible. But Kyle was in a lot of denial if he thought I’d believe he wanted to be “just friends” with Leah after what I’d overheard. “That’s not how your conversation went with Aimee, and you know it. You don’t have to ‘make a choice’ about someone if you’re not already messing around with someone else.”
The crazy thing was, I didn’t even care about the dance. Until Mrs. Turner used the homecoming court as a punishment for Helen, I hadn’t thought about it at all, and now, I was mostly thinking about it as a tool to help Phase Two of the So What? campaign. But these things did matter to Leah. A homecoming date with Kyle would send a signal to everyone that whatever Kyle’s thing with me had been, it was now over, once and for all.
“I...” Kyle trailed off uncertainly, glancing from me to Melissa and back again.
“It’s not okay,” I said. “You believed Aimee, not me. You sounded like you didn’t care about me at all. And you’ve been messing around with Leah the whole time, haven’t you?”
Kyle looked like I had slapped him.
“Athena, I’m sorry,” he said. “It didn’t start out like that. But you have to see there are two sides to this. I wasn’t—”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t have to ‘see that there are two sides.’” I made air quotes with my hands. I could feel the anger rising in my chest, along with a ferocious humiliation. “Good luck with Leah. Something tells me you’ll need it.”
I turned away from him, a wave of disappointment filling my entire body. I had to get down the hall without turning back. I had to. But my legs didn’t work, and I stayed planted in the spot.
Then I felt Melissa’s hand gripping my arm, pulling me forward.
“Steady, girl,” she whispered near my ear. “You did good.”
I held on to her as we walked down the hall. And I didn’t look back—not once.
27
Melissa steered zombie me toward the cafeteria. A weird, vibrating feeling coursed through my body and showed no signs of stopping. Some small part of me categorized it as an excess of adrenaline, but my mind was rebelling against logic and reason. It was a weird, vibrating feeling. That was all.
“Do you have your lunch today?” she asked, linking her arm with mine.
I nodded. I couldn’t make any words come out of my mouth. My lunch bag was lodged in my backpack, or at least I thought it was. Not that it mattered—I wasn’t going to eat anything anyway.
“Okay, we’re going to sit near the theater kids and wait for your sister,” she said. “Maybe they’ll have some way of helping. Helen certainly owes you one.”
I didn’t think Helen owed me anything, because Angelle hadn’t come through yet, but I was too numb to protest. I followed Melissa down the hall and through the cafeteria, trying not to look at anyone along the way. By the time we reached the amphitheater, my breathing had returned to normal. We sat down on the concrete steps. As usual, the theater kids were too busy running lines to notice us. I loved them for their obliviousness.
Within a minute, Helen showed up clutching her lunch bag, Sara and Jennifer trailing behind with lunch trays piled with questionable “Mexican” food. A month ago, Helen likely would have seen me crying and kept on going because my tears weren’t her business. Now she rushed over and put her arm around me.
It felt kind of weird, but I appreciated it.
“What happened?” Melissa asked. “I mean, I got some of it from your conversation with Kyle, but I’m still confused.”
I shrugged. Recounting the whole story would either totally transform me into a detached zombie or immerse me in a pool of stinging embarrassment, so I kept my explanation as short as possible.
“You heard most of it,” I said. “Kyle’s been hanging out with Leah, probably making out with her for a while, I dunno for sure, but it seemed like that to me. Aimee persuaded him to ask her to the dance instead of me, and he doesn’t seem to have any remorse about it. Asshole.”
“Athena!” Jennifer excla
imed. “Language!”
I started laughing, a snotty, gross laugh that mixed in with the tears I couldn’t hold back. “Oh, God, Jennifer, grow up! Asshole is pretty tame, considering what he deserves. Something like shitbag or maybe even motherfucker would be more appropriate. Or how about motherfucking asshole?”
I never swore, at least not like that, but the curse words gave my anger an escape valve I desperately needed right now.
Helen squeezed my shoulder. I couldn’t see her face, but she must have given her friend a look of death, because Jennifer sank down sheepishly. Really, I should have been the one apologizing because now I was the one being an asshole. Jennifer had been nothing but supportive of our team efforts and had stuck by Helen even before that.
Melissa pursed her lips together. “You know,” she said. “We’ve been taking the high road for so long. Maybe we need to think about how to fight back. Really go on the attack. Leah and Aimee deserve it.”
I shook my head violently. The last thing I wanted was to play some version of Leah’s game to win Kyle back. Leah had the home court advantage now. If we tried to match her, she would undoubtedly win with Kyle, like she’d won by ruining Helen’s reputation.
“I don’t want Kyle back,” I said. “He’s lied to me the whole time. I feel so...”
I couldn’t finish telling them how I felt, because it was a lie. I did want Kyle back. Well, maybe not exactly. I wanted who I thought he was, someone who would never dump me for Leah. I blinked back tears in the strong sunlight.
Melissa leaned back on the concrete steps. “I know it’s awful,” she said, waving her hands like she was trying to erase the implication that I wanted Kyle back. “But there’s got to be some way of turning our humiliation into triumph. Something beyond buttons and patches.”
Sara had been kneeling across from me, but she suddenly jerked up with attention. She looked at me with dark eyebrows raised and expectant, waiting for my approval to say something. She was probably hesitating in case I insulted her like I’d done with Jennifer.
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