One of Us Is Next(39)
I was so nervous, though. I did a couple shots of my dad’s vodka before Maeve came over, because I thought that’d calm me down, but all it did was make me dizzy and a little nauseated. And then we were kissing and it just…wasn’t working. Any of it. I could tell she wasn’t into it either, but we’d, like, committed. I didn’t know how the hell I could just tap out all of a sudden. Especially since guys are supposed to be born ready.
It was a massive relief when Maeve pulled away and asked if we could take a break for a minute. Then she buttoned her shirt back up and said, “Do you ever feel like maybe we’re trying too hard to be something we’re not?”
I was grateful to her then. For getting it. For not making a big deal. For being as non-awkward as possible, both then and later, so I could pretend it hadn’t happened. I’d almost convinced myself that it didn’t. Until now.
Because she told people. More people than Bronwyn, I’m sure, because Bronwyn’s not the type to spread gossip.
It doesn’t even matter who it was. Damage done.
I turn my phone over. There are new messages from Maeve that I ignore, opening the giant group text from Unknown instead. I don’t want you to have to read all the comments to get to it, Maeve had said. Because they’re stupid and pointless like always.
And prolific. There must be a hundred of them.
Sorry about the soft serve, man.
I know a great pharmacy in Canada where you can bulk order Viagra.
Maybe it’s because she’s not a dude.
Jesus. How the hell am I supposed to show up at school tomorrow? Or ever? Or get up on a stage next month to perform Into the Woods, singing in front of everybody? Bayview High is ruthless. One incident is all it takes to define you for the rest of your life, and I just found mine. At our twentieth reunion, Brandon Weber and Sean Murdock will still be laughing about this.
“Knox?” I jump at Eli’s voice. He and Bethany are approaching my desk, laptops in hand. “I thought you were going home.” I scrape a hand across my face and he peers at me more closely, frowning. “You all right? You look sick all of a sudden.”
“Headache,” I croak. “No big deal. I’m just gonna—yeah. I’m gonna go.” I grab my phone and get unsteadily to my feet as Eli watches with an increasingly furrowed brow. He sets down his laptop on the corner of the desk.
“Let me give you a ride. You’re really pale.”
I hesitate. What’s a worse place to be while dick jokes pile up on my phone: in a car with my boss, or on a bus next to some grandmother I’ll never see again? It’s no contest. “No, I’m good,” I force out. “Totally fine. See you tomorrow.” I’m almost at the door when I feel a tug on my arm. I half turn, my temper spiking too fast to hold it in. “I said I’m fine!”
“I know,” Bethany says. “But you probably still want this.” She presses the strap of my backpack into my hand.
“Right. Sorry.” I feel a surge of guilt, avoiding her eyes as I shoulder my backpack. I’m still pissed off, but none of this is Bethany’s fault. I wait until I’m in the elevator, doors safely shut behind me, to find a better target.
Texts from Maeve are at the top of my message list:
I’m so sorry.
I never meant to hurt you.
Can we talk?
There’s a lot I want to say, but I settle for short and to the point.
Go to hell, Maeve.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Maeve
Wednesday, March 4
The first person to greet me at school Wednesday morning is Sean Murdock, and he does it by grabbing the front of his pants. “Climb on any time you want a real man,” he leers, thrusting his hips while Brandon Weber cackles behind him. “Satisfaction guaranteed.”
My face burns with the kind of combined horror and shame I haven’t felt since Simon Kelleher wrote a scathing blog post about me freshman year. This time, though, I can’t slink into the shadows to get away from it all. For one thing, my sister’s not around to fight for me. And for another, I’m not the only one affected.
“First off, gross,” I say loudly. “Second, that stupid game is lying. Nothing like that ever happened.” I spin my combination and yank the door to my locker so hard that I lose my grip and slam it into my neighbor’s. “You’re an idiot if you believe everything you read. Well, you’re an idiot regardless. But either way, it’s not true.”
That’s my story, and come hell or high water, I will stick with it.
“Sure, Maeve,” Sean smirks. This is a sucky time to find out he knows my name after all. His eyes travel up and down my body, making my skin crawl. “Offer still stands.”
Brandon laughs again. “Literally,” he says. He puts his hand up for a high five, but Sean just looks confused.
Laughter echoes in the hall, and Sean brightens as he turns in its direction. There’s a group of people clustered around the bay where Knox’s locker is. “Looks like your boyfriend’s here,” Sean says. “Well, ex-boyfriend. Can’t blame you for that. Hope he likes his present.” My heart sinks as he and Brandon saunter down the hall toward the growing crowd. I grab a random assortment of books that probably aren’t even what I need for class, stuff them into my backpack, and slam my locker door closed.