Where the Staircase Ends(48)

My mom raised her eyebrows at me when they shook hands, as if to say “what happened to Logan?” I gave her an “I know where you sleep so don’t you dare embarrass me” look.

“Are you a coffee drinker, Justin? I just made a fresh pot if you’d like some while Taylor finishes getting ready.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” he said as she led him away from my embarrassed makeup-less face. Normally I’d have thrown myself in front of his path to stop the inevitable grilling, but I wanted him to forget the just-out-of-the-shower sight of me as quickly as possible.

When I came back into the kitchen twenty minutes later, Justin was finishing off a plate of eggs and bacon. My mom watched him from behind her newspaper, and it was all I could do to shuffle him out the door before she could say something embarrassing like, he’s a total Beatle.

We walked the five blocks to school with our fingers intertwined like the teeth of a zipper. I don’t even remember what we talked about. I only remember thinking that life couldn’t get much better.

Most mornings Sunny hung out on the front steps of our high school, sipping her coffee while she waited for me to show up so we could talk about whatever it was we needed to talk about before we had to separate for the day.

“Where’s Sunny?” I asked Jenny and Amber when I saw them chatting with our normal circle sans Sunny. Amber shrugged, flitting her eyes back and forth between me and Justin.

“This is new,” said Jenny, her eyes lingering on our linked hands. “You don’t waste any time, do you Taylor?”

She gave me a hard look, as though I’d done something I should be ashamed of. Normally I would have said something bitchy to put her in her place, but I was too high on Justin to bother. Instead I gave her an eye roll to let her know she sucked, then followed Justin inside.

It was some time after lunch when I started to notice the strange looks people gave me. I would walk by a circle of whispering girls and suddenly they would stop, their eyes resting on me as I passed by them in the hallway. A guy would incline his head in my direction and say something to his friend, who would laugh, shaking his head back and forth like a bobble-head wobbling on someone’s dash. A few times (although it was hard to be sure) I thought I heard my name whispered in the clusters of students that ebbed and flowed along the hallways.

It made me think of something Sunny once said: “You know you’re popular when people care enough to stare.” I’d never really thought about it until that moment, but it gave me satisfaction to think my new relationship (or whatever it was) with Justin was deemed gossip-worthy. Assuming, of course, that Justin and I were what everyone was whispering about.

I was dropping my books off in my locker when Jenny came barreling toward me, her mouth pressed into a thin white line. She looked around to make sure no one else was nearby, then leaned in and whispered, “Is it true? Please tell me it’s not true.”

I closed my locker and looked at her. “Is what true?” I flipped my hair behind my back and turned around to glare at her.

She gave me a meaningful frown and leaned in even closer, so our noses were almost touching.

“Come on, Taylor. It’s me. You can tell me.” My face must have looked as blank as my mind felt, because she added, “Tracey Allen saw Sunny at Walgreen’s yesterday. She knows, Taylor. She’s been telling people about it all day.”


I blinked back at Jenny a few times, trying to process what she’d just told me. Maybe if someone else had spotted Sunny, they would have felt a little sympathy for the situation she had obviously gotten herself into and kept it to themselves. But not Tracey Allen. No effing way. Not that I could exactly blame her for hating Sunny. Sunny was the originator of Tracey’s many skank-themed nicknames throughout the years, including (but not limited to) Rank Skank, Skank-in-the-box, Skank-enstein, and Skank-zilla. Imagine spotting your high school nemesis buying Plan B the morning after a party. Can you say opp-or-tun-i-ty?

I grabbed Jenny’s shoulder and pulled her down one of the less populated corridors. She squirmed beneath my grasp but I didn’t care. I needed to get her out of earshot.

“How many people know? Who else has Tracey told?” I said in a loud whisper, my heart hammering against my chest.

“So it’s true?” Jenny’s eyes opened wide, which gave me hope. If Jenny wasn’t sure it was true, than everyone else had to have their doubts as well. Maybe there was still time to squash the rumor before it spread too far.

“It doesn’t matter.” Irritation swelled in my voice. How could she be so calm about everything? She worshiped the ground Sunny walked on. She should have focused on helping Sunny rather than wondering whether or not the rumor was true. “Look, you have to help me run recon. Tell people it’s not true. Tell them Tracey made it up. Tell them whatever you need to tell them to stop this thing from spreading. I’ll try to get a hold of Sunny so we can figure out what to do.”

Jenny pulled away from my hands, which were gripping her shoulders so tightly my knuckles turned white. She tipped her head to the side and twirled one of her dark curls around her finger, looking at me like I just ripped one in the middle of the hallway. “Why would you need to talk to Sunny?”

“Um, because she has a right to know?” A bitchy edge entered my voice. Jenny could be a total ditz sometimes, and at that moment I didn’t have the patience to deal with it.