Ugh.
I guess I’ll roll around in self-pity until I can figure out how I can fix this.
Chapter Seventeen
Tuesday, February 10th
10:02 a.m.
Gary’s office
Shayla, Caesar, and I all sit in front of Gary as he looks at us and scratches his chin. I’m almost afraid of what’ll come out of his mouth as he frowns at us and shakes his head. What if I lose my job? What if I make two other people lose their jobs simply because I’m a blabbermouth? Ugh. What a conundrum.
“This situation has truly blown my mind,” Gary finally says. “Of course this magazine thrives on gossip, but it shouldn’t contain the dirty laundry of those who work here.”
Shayla glares at me and looks away, shaking her head. If I didn’t feel guilty before, I definitely did now. I can’t even imagine what she had to deal with when she left yesterday. She never responded to my text message, which isn’t surprising because I’m sure she’s mega pissed with me. I’m sure Madicunt is having a major laugh to witness everything falling apart for me. God, I still hate her.
“What do you have to say for yourselves?” Gary asks us.
“I will say that I’m sorry for engaging in inappropriate acts while at work,” Caesar says and then looks to Shayla. “But I’m not sorry for falling in love with her.”
Shayla smiles at him. I’m glad that this fiasco at least didn’t hurt their relationship too much.
“That’s all fine and dandy, but the next time I get wind of something like that again, you’re both fired. We clear?” Gary says.
“Yes. It won’t happen again,” Shayla promises.
Gary turns his attention to me. “And you, Blake? Anything you want to say?”
I shuffle in my spot, looking down at the floor as everyone looks at me. “I’m really sorry about what happened, guys. It was wrong and…I shouldn’t have written any of that stuff.” I look up and meet Shayla’s cold gaze. “I know you probably hate me right now and I don’t even blame you. I swear I never meant to hurt you or betray your trust—”
“But you did,” she snaps.
Well, I can’t deny that.
“And I’m sorry for that,” I say. “I really and truly am.”
She scoffs and looks back to Gary. “Can we go now?”
Gary nods and both Shayla and Caesar stand, exiting the office without another word or glance to me. “With everything that’s happened, I can’t have you lead a team if this is the type of stuff you do. I’m going to have to take back the creative team leader role,” he says.
I nod. “I understand.” I don’t blame him. How can I lead a team that probably doesn’t even trust me now? Despite all the points I’ve racked up against Madison, she’s officially won the battle with this. My friends now hate me, I’m no longer creative team leader, and Silas isn’t even talking to me.
“You can get back to work as well, Spencer,” Gary says as he sits in his chair. “I now have to get someone on the phone from IT to figure out how to get your blog off my website.”
“Gary, I’m really so—”
“Just get to work, Blake,” he says, his tone laced with disappointment. I purse my lips together, turn and walk out of the office. Now I really feel like shit.
11:23 a.m.
My desk
The entire vibe in the workroom is weird. It’s eerily silent and everyone keeps stealing glances at me and giving me disapproving looks. Madicunt, of course, is prancing around like a camel and basically trying to make everyone forget that they hate her and is now trying to direct their displeasure toward me.
“I hope you’re okay after our chat on the phone last night, Shayla,” she says as she pats Shayla on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Madison,” Shayla replies, giving her a small smile.
“Of course. That’s what friends are for,” she says in a sing-song voice, eying me with a smirk.
She’s such a bitch.
Leo and Carrie Jo both take turns comforting Shayla, but neither of them says a word to me. It’s almost like I’m invisible. And I say almost because although no one says anything, they don’t bother to hide their dirty looks and glares when they happen to look my way.
I can already tell this is going to be a long day. Fuck my entire life and after life with the prickliest cactus on the planet.
12:43 p.m.
Break room
When I finally enter the break room for lunch, I’m greeted by the whole team sitting at the same table, leaving no room for me to join them. Everyone’s eyes turn to me when I enter and the laughter and chatter that once filled the space ceases immediately. Clenching my teeth together, I make my way to the fridge and grab my lunch bag, settling at a table by myself. Tears burn my eyes as they all talk amongst themselves. There’s no worse feeling than being made a total outcast by people who were once your friends. It sucks even more to know that a girl who has given me a hard time since I got here is practically replacing me. She’s hanging all over Silas as she laughs, touching him unnecessarily when she talks, and her cunty laugh echoes throughout the room as Leo is telling his usual jokes. No one pays me any mind as I sit by myself stabbing at soggy iceberg lettuce, wishing I could just leave.
Carrie Jo gets up and walks over to the soda machine behind me. She hasn’t said a single word to me since everything happened. Wanting to make conversation with her, I clear my throat and smile at her. “Your dress is really pretty,” I say.
She gives me a tiny smile that looks more like a grimace and continues to push quarters into the machine. Once her soda is dispensed, she grabs it and walks away without another word.
Well, at least I can say I tried.
12:47 p.m.
Still in the break room
Madicunt also gets up and comes over to the soda machine. I turn my eyes down to my salad and pretend to not notice her. She doesn’t say anything as she puts her money into the machine and grabs her soda when it’s dispensed.
“I’m so thirsty I could drink an ocean,” she says out loud behind. Yeah, I bet she could drink an ocean. Camels are known for being able to hold a lot of water.
The soda can cracks open and suddenly the back of my neck and shirt start to feel damp as it sprays on me. I jump up from my seat, the soda can still spraying and now wetting the front of my shirt.
“Are you fucking serious?” I scream, slapping the soda out of her hand. She simply looks at me with a smirk and then shrugs.
“Oops,” she says, walking back to the table where everyone is snickering. Embarrassment burns my cheeks as I gather my things and storm out of the break room. I just want this stupid day to end already.
1:02 p.m.
Bathroom
I examine my shirt for a third time, making sure I was able to blot all the cola out before it could leave any stains. Satisfied with what I could manage to get out, I hold my shirt under the hand dryer. Today has been shitty overall. At least the last time my secrets got out, I didn’t have to worry about facing the people I’d hurt. It was a different kind of party when you had to work with these people and couldn’t hide from their wrath.
Here I am standing shirtless in a bathroom feeling sorry for myself when I have no one but myself to blame. Silas had asked me if I’d learned my lesson after the last time happened, but it was only obvious that I didn’t. I always chucked it up to being a gossip queen, but it’s still no excuse to hurt my friends.
Carrie Jo walks into the bathroom, pausing when she sees me. I quickly wipe my eyes and focus on drying my shirt. No need to make this any awkward than it already is.
She walks into a bathroom stall without a word as I press the button to start the dryer again. Jesus, this is going to take forever.
When she comes out, she washes her hands and grabs a few paper towels before looking at me. “Are you okay?” she finally asks.
Well, I don’t know. Am I?
No one will say anything to me, I don’t know if I have a boyfri
end or not, and I’m standing in a public bathroom drying my shirt with a hand dryer.
“Yeah, fine,” I mumble.
She’s quiet for a moment as the dryer roars on. When it finally shuts off, she speaks again. “What you did was really messed up,” she says.
I grind my teeth. Though I was tired of hearing people tell me this, I can’t stop her from telling me how she really feels. I’ll admit that I really fucked up big time. But now it’s starting to feel like they’re beating a dead horse every time they mention it.
“I know and I’ve already said I was sorry a million times,” I say, pulling my shirt back on. “What I did was shitty and if I could take it back I—”
“What you did could’ve been dangerous to someone,” Carrie Jo interrupts. “What would’ve happened if Shayla’s boyfriend had found out about all of that while they were at home? You saw how he reacted when he came to the office; that could’ve been life or death for her.”
Shit.
I didn’t even think about that.
Though I wondered what happened to her after she left work yesterday, I never thought about what would’ve happened if the blog hack timing would’ve been different. The man is obviously crazy; I mean not many people would grab their girlfriend by the throat in front of a group of people if they weren’t. I never thought about Shayla’s safety, or even Caesar’s for that matter, when I decided to write everything that I did. Then again, I also didn’t expect for my blog to be front page news on every tabloid and entertainment site.
“You’re right. I really messed up and I want to make things right, but I don’t know how,” I finally say.
“I don’t know either, but with the way things are looking right now, I think it may be too late for that.” She walks out of the bathroom, leaving me alone in my guilt and frustration.
I’m pretty sure baby Jesus doesn’t even have an answer to this screwed up situation.
3:57 p.m.
At my desk
Carrie Jo’s words are still floating through my head, making it hard for me to concentrate. I steal glances at Shayla to see if I notice any kind of bruising, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. When we end up making eye contact, she rolls her eyes, gives me the middle finger, and moves out of view.
Right. Fuck me.
Got it.
4:32 p.m.
Still at my desk
There’s less than 30 minutes left of work and it’s not moving fast enough. That’s only ten minutes three times.
Or five minutes six times.
And two minutes fifteen times.
Oh, just hurry up and let it be five so I can get out of this hellhole already.
4:44 p.m.
Still at my desk
“Hey guys, want to get drinks after work? I’m sure we could all use something to destress,” Madicunt suggests.
“I could use a margarita or two,” Shayla says.
“I could use a cold one myself,” Kevin says as he stands and adjusts his pants.
“Leo? CJ? You wanna come?” Madicunt asks and I cringe. Now she’s even using nicknames I’ve made for my friends.
“Yeah, sure,” CJ says and Leo nods.
“Sounds good to me,” he says.
Silas enters the room. He hasn’t said a word to me or even as much as look in my direction all day. Just when I didn’t think I could feel anymore invisible…
“Hey Si, you down to come to the bar with us?” Madicunt asks in a sickeningly sweet voice. Excuse me while I vomit.
“I can’t actually. I have some last minute things I have to work on. I’ll catch up with you guys another time though,” he says.
“Aww, that’s too bad,” she pouts and then looks at me. “I’d invite you, Blake, but…no one wants you there anyway.”
I clench my teeth together and take a deep breath. “I have something to do after work anyhow,” I say.
Madicunt scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure you do.”
You really let me down on this one, baby Jesus. I really needed her to fall in a sewer drain so she can stop ruining my life. She’s such a cunt.
4:56 p.m.
At my desk still
I log out of all my accounts for the day, checking on the magazine’s homepage before I shut down my computer. My blog has been taken down and is replaced by the articles everyone has written today. I wish fixing this problem was as easy as deleting the blog from the homepage.
I swear I make my life more complicated than it needs to be with my drama.
5:04 p.m.
Hallway
Silas comes down the hallway just as I leave the break room. He’s busily typing a message on his phone, oblivious to my presence. I follow behind him to the elevators without a word, not even sure what to say to him. He’s pretty much ignored me all day; it would seem a bit silly trying to talk to him now after what he said to me yesterday.
We step onto the elevator and he finally looks up from his phone and presses the button to the first floor. I clear my throat and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
“Any word on when you’re supposed to be starting your internship?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
“Soon,” he says, looking up as the numbers move lower and lower as we get closer to the first floor.
“We should get together soon and hang out,” I say. He doesn’t say anything, simply walking off the elevator when the doors open.
Why do I even bother trying right now?
6:09 p.m.
At home
I bounce from website to website as I look at the multiple stories posted about what I did. Madison must be so proud of herself. She even covered the story for Hot Topic and I’m sure Gary will be praising her from the rooftops when he sees how many hits the website has gotten because of it. It just sucks that she’ll get all of that at the expense of my friendships and happiness. I shouldn’t expect less of her though; she is a cunt after all.
I grab my phone and pull up Silas’ contact info to send him a text.
Blake: Are we not together anymore?
I hit send, a knot forming in my stomach. Since I’m already in the process of torturing myself this evening, I may as well ask a question that I don’t want to the answer to to add the icing on my shit cake. So many things swirl around in my mind. How did I go from being on top of the world, going to awesome parties with Taylor, having fun with cool co-workers, to being treated like an invisible outcast? Maybe Madison was right. Good things don’t last forever, but I didn’t expect them to come crashing down so suddenly.
Again, no one but myself to blame for it.
7:11 p.m.
Watching TV
“And our next story is something that you never thought would happen,” the entertainment news host says to her co-host. “While tabloids are known for spilling the beans on celebrities, you never expect them to air out their co-workers!”
“Right? Apparently one co-worker was sleeping with another one and is supposedly pregnant when she has a boyfriend? Some people just have no shame in being trashy,” the other co-host says.
I turn the tv off. It’s so easy to judge people you don’t know or say things that don’t directly affect you. I can’t even think of how Shayla would feel if she’s seen this. She already has her now ex-boyfriend to deal with, but now she has the world judging her and calling her terrible things because of her affair with Caesar. All of this drama because I couldn’t just let things be and keep my thoughts to myself. When will I learn that some things are better left unsaid?
Who am I kidding? The gossip queen in me wouldn’t even allow such a thing. The struggle of balancing between moral obligations of friendship and juicy gossip is becoming harder every day.
8:22 p.m.
On the couch
I jump up when I hear my text message alert. My mind races with different possible answers Silas could’ve given me. Or what if it’s Shayla finally texting me back? It could also be Taylor texting to tell me to go to hell, so
there’s that, too.
Unlocking my phone, I glance at the text message and frown.
910-20: Your checking account has an available balance of $102.92.
Great.
So I’m friendless, probably boyfriendless, and damn near penniless.
I’m so hating life right now.
10:21 p.m.
In bed
Milo curls up next to me on the bed as I grab my iPad. After the day I had today, there’s no way I can make it through the rest of the week with all the animosity and tension going on in my workspace. Opening my email, I decide to send Gary a quick message.
To: Gary Coefield ([email protected])
From: Blake Spencer ([email protected])
Subject: Sick
Hey Gary,
I’m pretty much having a mental breakdown right now and I don’t think I can come into work for the rest of the week. I’ve been trying to pull myself together, but with everything that’s happening and the backlash I’m receiving because of it, it’s all becoming too much to handle. I’m seeking help to try to get back on the right back and I’ll keep you updated with my progress and let you know how I’m feeling. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Sincerely,
Blake
Although I’m not really having a nervous breakdown yet, I’m pretty sure I’d quickly reach that point if I went to work the rest of the week. The intentional soda issue with Madison today was probably only just a start. I’m not going to keep feeding into her crap. I’m going to figure out how to fix this somehow, even if I have to make a few sacrifices along the way.
Musings of a Gossip Queen: A Chick-Lit Comedy Page 25