The Cheerleaders(69)
Rach fiddles with one of her pearl earrings. “I heard someone say they’re doing a balloon release.”
“A balloon release? Seriously?”
Rach looks over her shoulder. “Jesus, Mon, calm down.”
“Do they know how bad that is for the environment? Balloons kill birds. They eat the balloons and they die.”
“Mrs. Coughlin wanted to do it,” Rach says. “Cut her some slack. Her daughter died.”
I picture Mrs. Coughlin’s face yesterday when she gave me detention, how gleeful she looked. As if nothing pleased her more in that moment than to screw me over.
Heat crawls up my back as bodies press against mine, angling for the door. “I can’t do this,” I say. Before Rachel can call out to me, I pivot and head for the exit at the end of the hall, away from the courtyard.
No one notices me slip out of the building, toward the parking lot. I make a break for the fence lining the soccer field, hoping to duck behind it before I get caught. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t be in that goddamn building a second longer. I’ll walk all the way home if I have to.
“Monica.”
I halt in my tracks, ready to break out into a run, but when I turn I spot Brandon. He’s heading in the opposite direction, toward the school.
He hikes his backpack up his shoulder. He looks like he could be a student, with his Sunnybrook High Cross-Country warm-up jacket. His face is shaved, a small nick blooming on his neck. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Are you going to tell on me?”
Brandon’s mouth forms half a smile. “I don’t think that would be very wise of me.” He jerks a hand toward the school. “Are you sure you want to miss the ceremony?”
“I can’t—” I start, and suck in a breath. “I just can’t handle it.”
Brandon’s at my side, putting a hand on the small of my back, so lightly he’s barely touching me. “Security is going to see you if you just stand here. Come on.”
I let him guide me past the staff section of the lot. His Jeep is parked at the very end of the row, by the tennis courts.
Brandon unlocks the car and opens the passenger side for me. I duck in and shut the door, even though we’re far away from the school and no one can see me.
As I’m wiping my eyes, his voice sounds next to me. He’s climbed into the driver’s seat, shutting us both in. “You can stay in here as long as you need. But you shouldn’t cut the rest of the day.”
I hate that I’m crying in front of him. Brandon takes my hand. “Hey. You’re going to be okay.”
He laces his fingers through mine. Or maybe I started it, I don’t know. But my lips wind up on his and then he’s kissing me back. Even though we’re so far back in the lot and no one can see us, it’s so stupid—
Brandon rests a hand on my shoulder. Pushes me away gently. “This is a really bad idea.”
“I know.” I swipe a finger under my eye; a smear of mascara comes away on my skin. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“There are so many reasons this can’t happen anymore, especially—”
“Now that you have a girlfriend. I get it.”
“I don’t want to be that guy,” he says.
I nod. “You don’t have to explain.”
Brandon sighs. Tilts his back against his headrest. “Can I ask you something?”
“Do people ever say no to that question?”
“What made you do it?” he asks. “What you did. With me.”
I don’t know what he expects me to say. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear the truth: that having sex with him was like being someone else. But I can’t make myself say the words. You’re hot and my boyfriend broke up with me and you were just there.
“Because I was sad.”
Brandon puts his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I liked you.” Brandon laughs. “And I told myself that you looked older, and you acted older, so it wasn’t as wrong.”
“But now you do think it was wrong.”
“I don’t know. It just feels like you used me to avoid your problems.”
My throat tightens. He’s right—I knew what we were doing was wrong, and I didn’t care because I was ready to set my perfect life on fire and walk away while it burned.
“Go back to the memorial,” I say. “I’ll wait until everyone starts clearing out after and head inside.”
For a moment it looks like he wants to stay. I’m not even entirely sure I want him to, but my heart sinks when he reaches for the door handle.
Brandon climbs out of the Jeep and looks at me. “What just happened—I’m not gonna pretend it was all you or that I didn’t like it. But it can’t happen again.”
I don’t want to stay, thinking about what happened in this car over the summer, but I can’t go back just yet. So I tilt the passenger seat back and stare at the sky over the school until I see the pink balloons floating upward—five of them, one for each girl.
Detention on Friday is held in the basement, next to the weight room. I had to ask a random teacher how to find the classroom, because as many times as teachers have threatened me with it for being chatty, I’ve never actually gotten detention before.