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Something Like Fate

Page 15

by Susane Colasanti


  “Yeah . . . um . . .” Danielle takes the article out of her bag. The edge is all crumpled. She gives it to me. “I can’t really help you with this.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just . . .” She looks around. A bunch of people are watching us. “. . . can’t.” Then she practically runs away from me.

  Fabulous. Even my friends hate me now. Erin’s email torment can’t be why Danielle just bailed on me, though. As if she’d believe any of that without even talking to me. I have to find out what’s wrong with her.

  The day just gets worse from there. It’s like no one’s giving me the chance to tell my side. Everyone’s just assuming I don’t have one. Even people I don’t know. Like when I’m answering a question in physics, two girls start whispering. I don’t have to hear what they’re saying to know they’re whispering about me.

  It’s really hard to be in this class with Jason and not talk to him. Or even look at him. We have assigned seats now. He’s far away. I resist sneaking looks at him to see if he’s sneaking looks at me.

  After I got off the phone with Erin last night, I called Jason to tell him about my promise to her. It was one of the most depressing conversations ever.

  As if physics wasn’t awkward enough, lunch is even worse. After I get my lunch, I just stand there with my tray, searching for a safety net.

  Erin’s sitting with some of the Golden Kids, including Bianca. They’re all listening to what I’m sure is a livid rant about how evil I am. Bianca gives me a nasty glare. I knew she was spying on me and Jason last year. I just didn’t know she was low enough to go blabbing all of her distortions to Erin.

  Blake’s sitting with some art geeks. He looks so sad. All he has in front of him is a ginger ale. His manorexic tendencies escalate in times of stress.

  Jason’s on the other side of the caf. I recognize some of the people he’s sitting with from mentoring. I’m not sure if he saw me yet. I wish I could go over there and sit with him. I just want things to be like they were this summer.

  Of course that’s impossible.

  I feel really bad for him. It’s obvious why the Golden Kids are taking Erin’s side.

  Jason’s the one who lied to them.

  Jason’s the one who dumped Erin in a letter.

  Jason’s the one who avoided them all summer to be with me.

  But none of those things was Jason’s fault. None of this would be happening if I hadn’t let Jason kiss me that first time.

  There’s an empty table in the far corner. It’s the only safe place to sit. On my way over, I pass a table with some empty seats. One girl looks at me like she dares me to sit there. Then she drops her bag in the free chair next to her to make sure I don’t.

  I sit at the empty table. I try to look like I don’t care that I’m all alone. Or that everyone in here is talking about me. Maybe things aren’t as bad as I think. It’s really just the Golden Circle that hates me. Not necessarily the whole school. But they’re a huge group. And there are enough other people who think I’m a boyfriend-stealing slut that it totally feels like the whole school hates me.

  People stare.

  I shake my juice.

  People stare some more.

  The cap is impossible to twist open.

  It’s really hard to not cry.

  The cap suddenly twists off. I scrape my hand on the edge of the table. I’m bleeding. I could go to the nurse. But then I’d have to walk out with everyone staring at me even more. I just can’t deal with that. So I press a napkin against my hand and wait for the bleeding to stop.

  No one comes over to sit with me.

  After staring at the table for a long time, I try ripping open my bag of mixed nuts. It won’t rip. My eyes are all watery. I tell myself to calm down, that everything will be okay. But myself is just like, That’s such a lie.

  I press my tourmalinated quartz. It’s hopeless. An entire bucket of tourmalinated quartz couldn’t balance me.

  I look over at Jason. He quickly looks away. Now he’s avoiding eye contact.

  My bag of mixed nuts finally opens. I try chewing a cashew. It tastes like cardboard.

  I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life.

  It’s just so tragic. All of us sitting at different tables. Hating each other. I wish I knew how to fix it.

  Jason gets up.

  My pulse races. Is he coming over here?

  Jason shuffles away to clear his tray. I watch him crush his grape soda can. He puts all of his recyclables into the bins, separating them carefully from the garbage. There’s something sad about the way he does this slowly, like he’s completely exhausted. Clearly, recycling is his routine now. It’s like he’s not even thinking about it.

  He’s changed. Because of me.

  When he’s done, Jason turns around and catches me watching him. He still doesn’t come over. He just goes back to his table.

  Bianca comes over to me. She’s like, “Erin wanted me to tell you she wants her red bag back.”

  “What?”

  “You know. Her red bag? The one she let you borrow like two months ago that you never gave back?”

  Is this girl for real? Did Erin seriously send her over like we’re in some sixth-grade fight? How lame is that?

  I go, “Seriously?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Well, you can tell Erin that she has tons of stuff she’s borrowed from me and I want it all back first.”

  “I’ll give her the message. Oh, and just so you know? People are finally telling Erin what they really think of you.”

  “Which people?”

  “Everyone. More specifically, everyone you decided wasn’t good enough to be your friends.”

  How can anyone still be pissed about that? It wasn’t like I made an official announcement that the entire Golden Circle sucks. I just gradually drifted away from them. Bianca’s acting like no one’s allowed to grow apart from anyone else. Which is incredibly stupid.

  “They’re really mad at you,” Bianca adds.

  “What am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Nothing. I just thought you should know.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “They’ve been mad at you for a while, but this just makes it worse. We all assumed you and Erin would be BFF forever, so we kept our mouths shut about you. But now she deserves to know the truth.”

  “Forever is redundant.”

  “Hm?”

  “You don’t need to say forever after BFF. The last F stands for forever.”

  Bianca whips back around and prances off.

  I didn’t get why Erin is still friends with Bianca, but now it’s clear. They’ve been friends for so long, that’s just the way it’s always been. Even though Bianca has changed into someone pathetic, Erin still sees her as her friend Bianca. She doesn’t see who Bianca really is now. Erin’s just clinging to the memory of who she used to be.

  I can’t stay here. I have to leave now.

  Unfortunately, you’re not allowed to leave during the last ten minutes of lunch. Something about the adults being afraid that if they let us out too soon, the halls would get all crowded with kids loitering. Why didn’t I think of this before? I could have gotten a bathroom pass and forgotten to come back.

  The only way to convince the monitor to let me out is to make him believe I have an emergency. That always works in class. Especially when there’s a sub. You just say it’s an emergency and the teacher has to let you go. Even though it’s probably not an emergency. Because if it actually is one and the teacher doesn’t let you go, they could get in a lot of trouble. Like if you were sick and they didn’t let you go and you threw up in class, it would be the teacher’s fault. None of them wants that kind of potential trouble. It’s particularly effective when the teacher’s a guy and you’re a girl. No guy teacher wants to hear about anything related to female issues.

  A billion eyes follow my progress toward the door.

  I approach the monitor. He’s one of the o
lder teachers.

  “Can I help you?” he says in this tone like there’s no way I’m going anywhere so why am I even trying.

  “May I please use the bathroom?”

  He consults his watch. “Eight minutes left of lunch. You can go then.”

  “But I have to go now.”

  “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

  “Please. I really have to go.”

  One of the girls at the table next to Erin’s has been listening the whole time. She yells, “Yeah. Lani really has to use the bathroom. She has diarrhea something fierce.”

  Everyone on this side of the cafeteria cracks up. My face turns bright red.

  Although it isn’t a female issue, this teacher clearly does not want to deal with my situation. So he isn’t about to argue that I don’t have to go.

  He waves me out. “Go ahead,” he says.

  I smack the door open and run for it.

  The rest of the day is excruciating. Mom picks me up, since I’m not about to get a ride home from Erin. I almost ask her to drop me off at Danielle’s, but I decide it’s better to ride my bike over later so I’ll have a way to leave quickly if I have to. Going over to her house will be the best way to find out what’s going on with her. She probably won’t pick up if I call her, and I really need to know why she’s mad at me. So after dinner, I ride my bike to Danielle’s.

  She opens the door. Then she just stands there.

  “Can I come in?” I go.

  Danielle’s all, “Why are you here?”

  “Because I want to know what’s wrong.”

  “Same thing that’s bothering everyone else, I guess.”

  “What, that I’m some evil boyfriend-stealer? You seriously believe that?”

  Danielle glances over her shoulder. “I can’t really have anyone over right now,” she says.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  She comes out, closing the door behind her. She crosses her arms.

  “Well?” I go. “Why are you mad?”

  “Erin told me what you said.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “She said you didn’t want to invite me to your birthday party.”

  “I never said that!”

  “What happened to spending your birthday alone? You said no one was coming over.”

  “It was only three people. It was nothing.”

  “If it was so nothing, then why did you lie?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You could have invited me.”

  “I was going to! Erin was the one who said not to.”

  “And you listened to her? How come she got to go and I didn’t?”

  “It wasn’t even a party! We were just hanging out!”

  “So what, I’m not good enough to hang out with you guys?”

  “No! I mean, yes, of course you are. I just didn’t think you’d want to, is all.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I can’t really admit that Erin and Danielle wouldn’t get along. Erin’s always resented my friendship with Danielle. Danielle would have been fine with coming over, but Erin would have had a problem with it. The whole night would have been awkward.

  “Do you even know Erin?” I say. “Or Blake? What would we have talked about?”

  “That’s not the point. Why didn’t you defend me when Erin said not to invite me? Aren’t we good friends, too?”

  “You know we are. I just . . . the whole thing was stupid. I should have asked you over. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “So . . . are we friends again?”

  “Not so much.”

  “Danielle, I’m really sorry I didn’t—”

  “It’s not just about your birthday. You lied to me when I asked you if anything was going on with Jason.”

  “What makes you think something was?”

  “Were you at school today?”

  “You’re just going to believe some rumor without even asking me if it’s true?”

  “Is it?”

  There’s no point in hiding the truth anymore. “It didn’t happen the way Erin said.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you trust me?”

  “It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I just couldn’t talk about it. With anyone.”

  “Even Blake?”

  Crap. With Blake being mad at me, he could have told Danielle that he knew about Jason all along. I can’t risk any more lies.

  “I told him,” I admit. “But he kind of already knew.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shake my head. It’s impossible to answer this in a way that won’t offend her. Danielle and I are close. I’m sure she wouldn’t have told anyone. It’s just that Blake and I are closer. I know for sure that I can trust him with anything.

  Apparently, there are varying degrees of trust.

  “I have to go,” Danielle says. She opens her door.

  “Wait, can we—”

  There’s no chance to finish what I want to say. Unless I feel like talking to a door that was just shut in my face.

  36

  Some things that suck:

  • My eyes are in a permanent state of redness from crying all weekend.

  • Blake still won’t talk to me.

  • Neither will Erin.

  • Or Danielle.

  • I can’t eat without feeling like I’m immediately going to throw up.

  • Jason and I will never be together.

  Sleeping is always good. While you’re sleeping, you don’t have to think about how miserable your life is. But then you wake up and there it is all over again. Your miserable life.

  I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to go to school.

  I get up and go to school anyway.

  As soon as I get there, I know I should have stayed home.

  There’s a bunch of kids crowded around some lockers, talking and laughing. They all have those big eyes people get when something’s happening. I push through them to find out what everyone’s looking at.

  They’re looking at Blake’s locker.

  Which says HOMO in big, yellow, spray-painted letters.

  I can’t believe someone actually did this. People are so hurtful it breaks my heart. Why can’t they just leave him alone?

  The crowd opens up a little. Blake comes through.

  Everyone stops talking.

  No one says anything to him. They just watch to see what he’ll do.

  You’d never know that Blake just saw what his locker says. He turns the dial of his lock slowly, focusing on the numbers. Trying to pretend that everything is normal so no one will see his pain.

  Everyone keeps staring. They’re watching Blake like he’s some kind of zoo animal. No one’s doing anything to defend him.

  I go over to Blake and stand in front of him, facing the crowd.

  “What’s with you guys?” I say. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  Blake opens his locker. He takes books out.

  “If you want to talk about me, go ahead. But leave Blake alone.”

  No one goes away.

  “Leave!” I yell.

  Mr. Bradley comes over. He’s all, “What’s going on here?” Blake’s locker is open, so he doesn’t see what it says. “Homeroom!” he yells. “Let’s go!”

  The crowd breaks up. A few kids linger behind, determined to see Blake crack.

  Blake shuts his locker. He stares at the spray paint.

  “I can help you get that off,” I say.

  “It won’t come off.”

  “Yeah, it will. I can borrow that industrial cleaner the janitors use to get graffiti off the desks.” The janitors love me. I make their lives easier with all of the recycling stuff One World does. They totally let me borrow whatever I want.

  “You think it’ll work?” Blake says.

  “Absolutely. I’ll go get it.”

&n
bsp; “Wait.” Blake hugs me. “Thanks.”

  The kids who were still watching leave, disappointed that the emotional meltdown they were hoping for didn’t happen. Blake’s stronger than they’ll ever know. He’ll never show them how much he really hurts.

  I was hoping that Blake and I would make up after we cleaned his locker. We didn’t talk as we scrubbed at the spray paint. But after, he just said thanks again and went to class.

  Connor’s like the only one still being nice to me. He always walks with me if we’re switching between classes in the same direction. We either talk or IM every night. He’s so worried about me. Which is sweet, but I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. What if he thinks that since things apparently didn’t work out with Jason, there’s a chance I’d go out with him? I’m hoping he can tell that I just want to be friends.

  When Connor said he’d come over tonight, I jumped at the chance for some company. Ostracism is a lonely place.

  Peering into my closet, we try to decide on a game. I seriously need some mindless escape time.

  “How about cards?” Connor says.

  “Do you know how to play 500?”

  “You need at least four people for that.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Of course you do. If we’re the only team, then who would we play against?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re talking about the French Canadian 500, right?”

  “No, Rummy 500. There’s more than one 500?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Outrageous.”

  “We could try some art therapy. That always works for me.”

  “Does this mean you don’t want to play Clue?”

  “Would you rather play Clue or make Oobleck?”

  “Oobleck!”

  “Do you have any cornstarch?”

  “I think so. . . .”

  We spend the next hour regressing back to a time before everything got so complicated.

  “Feeling any better?” Connor asks.

  “Yes and no. I mean, this totally helps take my mind off things, but then it’s like all of a sudden I’ll remember and everything sucks again.”

 

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