All The Plans We Made | Jenna Ortega

This Isn't the Place For Me

TW: homophobia/bullying/mental health

Y/N's POV:

April fools! Freshman year has sucked. My Dad reached out a month ago, he lives in LA now, he says he misses me, but if he did why did he leave in the first place? Sheila ditched me, she sits with Sam now.

We haven't talked since a few days after I told her I liked girls. I don't know why I did it. I guess I just needed to get it off of my chest.

I am not excited for whatever pranks my classmates have in store. Half expecting to see someone with a kick me sign, I brace myself as I open the door to school. The linoleum tiles are brutalized by a hundred cheerleaders jumping up and down in stilettos. How do they run in those? 

Lockers are slammed, fake love notes are given out, my horny coupled up classmates make out against each other's lockers. I gag at the sight. At least use a bathroom.

The fluorescent lights buzz, only adding to the endless din of laughter, crying, and moaning. It can't get worse than this.

Then I see it. My locker. The word "lesbo" plastered across it. Everyone stares at me, and what hurts so much is that Sheila must have told someone. HOW DID I TRUST HER? It's almost like I did this to myself. Sam grins in the corner, snapping a photo of my locker. Jocks run past me, the cheerleaders hot on their rails. The computer team hacks the PA speaker, theater kids vocalize. It means nothing as I stare at what's happened.

Everyone's gonna know

Everyone.

JENNA. Shit. 

She was my Christian best friend, would she even accept me. It doesn't even matter though because I never even see her, right? Wrong.

I open my phone to see that Sam's already tagged me in the picture she took of my locker. Shit shit shit.

I hate it here. I need to get out. I can't deal this this.

I run as fast as I can out of the building. No way am I dealing with this.

The jocks yell slurs as I pass by them. One of them even trips me, but I get up and keep running.

I run all the way to the coffee shop three blocks away and get (your drink of choice.) Suddenly, my phone starts to buzz. It's my mom.

"Hi mom," I reluctantly respond to the call.

"Why aren't you at school? The principal called. You need to be there."

"I'm not going back," I assert.

"You have to, the state requires it."

"I'll just do the assignments and turn them in."

"No, you will go to school and that's that."

We have this argument every day for the next two months, but it always ends the same. I'm back at school with all of the shitheads.

Sheila looks at me sympathetically every time she sees me, but still sits with Sam and their group.

I'm tired of it here.

Midway through May, Sheila finally confronts me.

"Hey, Y/N," she starts. Immediately I start to walk away, "listen to me Y/N, I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't erase Sam's instagram post, sorry doesn't get rid of the spray paint. Sorry doesn't get rid of the fact that I lost everything! So go the fuck away!" I wipe away the few tears I've shed in the past few minutes.

Sheila starts to look defeated, but she's never been the type to give up, "you know what, it doesn't, but sorry is a start."

"Look, man," I say, "I don't want a fight. I don't need the attention, so please just leave me alone."

"I didn't know this would happen," she reasons. I don't want to hear it.

"You didn't pause to think at the fact that Sam is a conniving two-faced bitch before you left our table to sit with her and her ugly boyfriend?"

"No, because I'm a stupid teenager. I make mistakes!"

"I am too, but I don't wait a month to apologize!" That's it. I'm done with her. I've gone a month without her being my friend, I can go the rest of the year.

Over the next few weeks, it dawns on my how much I miss Jenna. She was my most reliable friend. She had my back, I had hers. I could really use her right now. I wish she could hug me like she used to every day. I wish the two of us could sit in my basement making shitty movies again.

I just all around miss her, and wonder if she still thinks about me.