Just Another Love Story

07 • The Fallout

"Oh my God! It was a crazy prank. Amir shook everyone off and headed to the showers... and the Coastal Prep guys just escaped! God! The soccer girls and I were livid!" Cam waved a plastic fork around, a piece of Orange chicken speared through the prongs.

We'd moved up the usual Monday morning debrief to Saturday, as Friday's events on the field was a code red situation. Code red for red paint (as Cam texted in all caps in our groupchat.)

The three of us sat in the mall foodcourt. I pushed Chow Mein around on my plate, unsure how much longer I could stomach this debrief.

Andy let out a low whistle. "What the hell. That's a horrible prank."

"It didn't feel like a prank," I said, letting my fork drop. "It felt like a hate crime."

"You can say that again!" Cam chirped.

"I kind of don't want to say it again," I muttered. My Panda Express was sitting oddly in my stomach.

"Oh?" Cam asked. Her blue eyes looked neon under the fluorescent mall lighting.

"Yeah... I think I'm gonna go shop."

"Okay," Andy said softly. "We'll catch you later."

Cam blinked at me. "Yeah, go shop. Have fun!"

Andy smiled at me apologetically. Suffocated by the smell of fried food, I stood up. I left down a random corridor.

Have fun, she said. I felt hollow as the phrase echoed in the cavities of my tired brain.

I turned unthinkingly into Maison Margiela and plucked a beautiful pair of medium wash jeans off a hanger. I tugged them on in the fitting room, and although they hugged my ass perfectly, I began to cry.

I did it quietly, but I let the tears fall in abundance, ignoring the attendant politely knocking on the door to ask if I was alright. I realized, sitting on the bench, that I didn't know how to answer her.

When I got home last night, I requested to skip family dinner, which my mom had miraculously let me do (perhaps she sensed my distress, in the way that only mothers can.) I showered and face-masked, but still felt glued to the turf.

It had always been vaguely discomforting to walk into a classroom where no one looked like me. But I had never felt unsafe— until now. Unsafe, and helpless against some larger force that I could not control. Some evil I had been pretending to ignore in every hair plucked carefully from between my brows. A force that taped a target to my back, even though I felt I had no right to complain. Compared to the other Brown person on the field, I got it easy.

I bought the jeans and left the mall without texting Cam or Andy goodbye.

•••

Homecoming week was a spirit week, which meant each day students wore different themed clothing to show school spirit, up until the Homecoming rally on Friday. I always enjoyed spirit week at Beverly.

It was a creative distraction from the monotonous rhythm of high school, and in general, dramatic fashion ensembles always made me feel better. This week it felt like the only thing keeping me going.

Monday was nerd day.

I went to school in round glasses and my embroidered Gryffindor robe despite not wanting to even show up to classes after what happened. Later, I went to Amir's for tutoring with a lightning scar on my forehead.

He was not dressed up. We did not discuss what happened last week.

Tuesday was silly bag day.

Roop traded me her Paw Patrol-themed backpack for my Versace one (smart girl.) Sitting at Amir's desk, the dusky glow of the setting Sun made the room feel a little smaller, the two of us a little closer. I pulled my study guide out from my bag.