Be the Girl(86)

“Don’t, Holly. You’re in enough shit already,” Emmett warns in an icy tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says sweetly. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Uh, how about that prank you just pulled on Cassie? You know her combination lock, and the whole dog thing, and that she has a crush on Zach.”

“Have fun trying to prove it.” She glances around at the lingering students. I swear, they’re like sharks charging for a drop of blood in the water when it comes to drama. “Maybe you should ask your girlfriend,” she says loudly. “She’s the one who likes to play cruel prom jokes on people.”

Oh God. The nausea is back.

The first bell rings, but no one makes a move. Where are the teachers? Where is McNair? Why aren’t they stopping this?

“What’s wrong with you?” Emmett yells. “Are you seriously doing this just because we broke up and I’m dating her?”

She lifts her chin. “No, I’m doing this because you deserve to know the truth about the kind of person you’re dating now,” she parrots the words I once said to her, almost verbatim. I should’ve known that would come back to bite me in the ass.

“I already know what happened, Holly.”

Holly’s shapely eyebrows arch. “So, you’re okay with the fact that your girlfriend drove a girl to kill herself?”

Oh God.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a long moment. When I open them, Emmett’s deep brown eyes are on me.

“What is she talking about, Aria?” He asks slowly.

“I didn’t lie,” I whisper, silently pleading for him to believe me. I just made you believe a different truth.

Holly folds her arms across her chest. “I’d tell you to ask Julia Morrow for her side of the story, but she OD’d after Aria humiliated her in school.”

“That’s not exactly how it happened.” My voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“But you said …” Realization sparks in Emmett’s eyes as he no doubt replays the story I told him the other night, only from another angle.

The one where I’m not the victim.

“I can’t believe you.” Emmett’s expression is filled with disbelief and aversion. He spins on his heels and strolls down the hall with his backpack, past McNair, without saying a word.

Emmett’s never going to talk to me again.

And that’s probably what I deserve.

“And you wanted to make me look bad in front of Emmett. Well …” Holly’s face twists with bitter triumph.

Only then do I feel the steady stream of hot tears running down my cheeks. “How could you do that to Cassie? Me? Fine! I would have deserved it. But Cassie?” Who has only ever been kind to Holly.

A flash of something like pain—or guilt—flickers in her big blue eyes, but then it’s gone and her eyes are cold and hard again. “Whatever. Zach is taking her like I knew he would. She’ll be fine,” Holly scoffs, dismissing Cassie’s feelings as if they’re trivial, as if she’s incapable of having them.

I don’t even realize that my fist is flying until it crashes into Holly’s nose.





I pick at a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweater. If I don’t stop soon, I’ll ruin it.

“Assaulting another student is an automatic suspension.” Mr. Keen’s squinty eyes narrow into tiny slits as he studies me intently. “What reason did you feel you had for hitting Holly Webber?”

Because she’s the anti-Christ? I bite my tongue before that slips out.

Ms. Moretti sits beside him, her brow furrowed with worry as she waits for my answer.

We’re in a small conference room beside Keen’s office. There’s nothing in here but a round table with four chairs, an oversized clock that ticks too loudly, and a framed School Conduct poster on the wall directly across from me. The room overlooks the visitor parking lot, which means I’ll see exactly when my mother pulls in.

Out of everything, I’m dreading that part most of all.

“I believe there has been some ongoing tension between Holly and Aria,” Moretti offers. “It likely has to do Emmett Hartford.”

“So, this is over a boy.” Keen may as well roll his eyes for the annoyance in his voice.

“No, it’s about Holly being a jerk and a bully and getting away with it for too long.”

They exchange glances and I can almost hear the unspoken words. We’re finally getting somewhere.

“What did Holly do to you, Aria?” Moretti asks.

“It’s not what she did to me. It’s what she did to Cassie Hartford.” I explain the joke prom invitation.

“And you know for a fact that Holly was behind that?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

I stretch the fingers of my right hand. Nothing feels broken but my knuckles are swelling. The school nurse said she’d be by with an ice pack but that was fifteen minutes ago. I guess a bruised hand is less critical than a nose gushing blood.

“Because I used to be like her.”





I check the wall clock as Moretti pushes the blinds apart with two fingers to squint at the parking lot. “She was in Toronto when I called. She should be here soon.”