Wish You Were Gone(26)
KELSEY
School was like another planet. The next couple of days passed by in a whirlwind as people—even upperclassmen—stepped out of Kelsey’s way in the hall, asked her if she needed anything, asked her if she was okay. Her teachers excused her from all homework, and apparently, even the random support staff were aware of her tragedy, because Red Hairnet gave her an extra helping of tater tots on Wednesday and Ricky the security dude didn’t hit her with his patented side-eye when she went to refill her frozen yogurt.
Kelsey felt famous, but famous for a really awful reason. Like Katniss or a Kardashian. She honestly wasn’t sure what was worse—her mostly ignored, sometimes picked-on existence before her dad died or this odd sort of wary deference she was getting now.
Today she sat down at the end of her usual table and hoped that everyone would act normal. Since her return on Monday, her crew had been overly enthusiastic about everything, as if pointing out how amazing the mundane details of life were was going to make the fact that her dad was dead magically be okay.
“Can you believe how sunny it is today?! It’s like it’s still summer!”
“What a gorgeous skirt, Kelsey! Really flattering!”
“We were so lucky to have Mrs. Tisch for freshman chorus this year, right!?”
“Is that a rainbow!? Look, Kelsey! A rainbow!”
It was all getting a bit grating, if she were being perfectly honest.
And then, Jason Katz decided to mix things up. He put down his Snapple bottle and looked along the table at Kelsey.
“You know, Kel”—she hated when he called her Kel and he knew it—“I’ve been thinking about your situation and I think it’s going to be good for you.”
“What?” Alexa Osaka—or Lexi to Jason—was just sitting down as he finished his declaration. She had worn her black hair in two braids today and was sporting a high-waisted denim-and-crop-top look. “Are you freaking kidding me right now?”
Kelsey, though her stomach had twisted into a giant pretzel, decided to play along. “No, I’m curious. How is my dad’s car smashing through the back of our garage going to be good for me, Jason?”
He lifted a shoulder like it ain’t no thang. “The struggle. It’ll make your performances deeper.” He paused to take a slurp of iced tea. “Truer.”
Part of Kelsey wanted to reach across the table, grab Jason Katz by the frizzy hair at the top of his head, and smash his face into his mac and cheese. She could see it so clearly. The blood gushing over everyone’s food, his glasses shattered.
Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can talk to me that way, you little cunt? I’ll fucking snap your neck. I’ll fucking end you!
Her father’s voice was so clear, he could have been hovering over her. She could see the white flecks of spittle at the corners of his mouth. Feel the air move as his meaty fingers swiped at her.
When the vision cleared, Willow was walking past her table, munching on an apple and eyeing Kelsey with a smirk. Kelsey turned away from her—let her go find her table of black-clad, wannabe New Yorker friends—and saw that Alexa was also watching her curiously, almost as if she could tell what Kelsey had been thinking. Alexa picked up a fry, dunked it in ketchup, and threw it at Jason’s head. It hit the side of his face, then plopped onto his shoulder, leaving a red smear.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“Keep your stupid-ass opinions to yourself,” Alexa said, while the rest of the table laughed. Christine Flagg, who had caught some of the ketchup trail, just wiped it off her shirt and said nothing.
Who knew? Maybe Jason was right. Kelsey did feel pretty confident about the monologue she’d performed at auditions yesterday. And when her voice had cracked on “She Used to Be Mine” it had been out of emotion, not an inability to hit the notes. She hoped Mrs. Tisch had caught that.
“Are you okay?” Alexa asked Kelsey under her breath. “Do you want to get out of here?”
But before Kelsey could answer, Felicity Wells—the Felicity Wells—appeared at the end of their table, all glorious red hair, spicy perfume, and glistening lips. God, Kelsey truly hated the cafeteria. This place was a personality minefield.
“Kelsey! There you are!” Kelsey’s friends stared at their trays. All except for Jason, who gaped at the girl like she was his very first sunset.
“Yes, here I am. Right where I always sit,” Kelsey said. Being treated like a freak/celebrity all week had made her a bit punchy. But then Felicity’s eyes flashed and she wished she could take it back. It occurred to her that if people saw Felicity deigning to speak to her in the cafeteria while Kelsey was sitting at a table with all her “drama geek loser” friends, then her stock might actually rise. Not that she cared. Except that she kind of did. Sometimes. It was complicated.
“What’s up?” she asked Felicity, putting on a smile.
“Well, my mom wanted me to tell you that you and your mom are totally welcome to come over to our house anytime for free facials.” Felicity’s mother was a cosmetics salesperson, always hosting makeover parties that Kelsey’s mom never attended. Her father made legit millions in international real estate or something, and was always traveling. Kelsey had once overheard Gray telling her mom that Felicity’s mom had a master’s in education and the cosmetics thing was just to keep her from tearing her hair out from boredom. If she had a master’s in education, Kelsey wanted to know, then why wasn’t she out there educating people in something other than facials? “It really helps to unwind when you’re stressed.”