The next day I wake up with an aching face. It hurts to touch and I know it's swollen before I touch it.
I get out of bed and sneak to the bathroom. I know Dad is probably awake and getting ready for school. He usually leaves before I even get the chance to pull on a decent pair of pants.
And he usually kisses me goodbye, or at least says goodbye. Which requires looking at me.
I grab my bag of makeup that was left on the counter and open it up. Out of the corner of my eye I see the first aid kit still sitting on the floor where I had it last night.
I pick it up and set it by the door so I'll remember to put it away later and not be questioned about it.
Going back to the mirror, I examine the bruise on my cheek.
The redness has gone away a little, but the bruise blossomed to be half the size of my fist. I'm thankful for that so I can cover it easier.
Then, I go to work. It takes me a few minutes to cover it, but I have to make sure my face matches the rest of it.
I'm applying the rest of my makeup when the door creaks open and my dad peeks in.
I jump slightly and move so he isn't looking at my left side, but my right side instead.
"Hey, I'm leaving. Got some papers to take care of," Dad says as he leans in the kiss my cheek.
I awkwardly lean toward him, careful not to turn my head. "Okay, love you."
I turn my back to him and frantically look for something to toy with.
"Are you okay? I know I didn't see you all day yesterday-"
"Fine, Dad," I cut him off. "Just in a hurry."
I bend down and pick up a dirty sock I must have left on the floor after my shower.
"Okay..." He trails off. I know he doesn't believe me. "I'll see you at school, kiddo."
I breathe out a sigh of relief when he shuts the door behind him. I stand quickly and finish my makeup, then race back to my room. Mom doesn't leave until later, but we don't always talk in the morning. She's usually asleep, so I should be okay.
I don't have the energy to make myself look presentable, so I find a pair of sweatpants and an old cheerleading sweatshirt that has my name on the back. After brushing my messy hair out, I leave it down to give my face extra coverage.
Just before I leave the house I make sure to bring the makeup with me.
*
Once I park my car, I stay sitting in my seat, pulling the visor down so I can look in the mirror.
"Here goes... everything," I say to myself after making sure nothing is visible.
I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder before trudging into the school.
To say I am paranoid is an understatement. I'm worried everyone can see past the makeup and right at the pain I'm really feeling.
I'm scared that when someone finds out all the secrets I've kept, then I'll be left alone.
When the football games really start and Mom and Dad insist on coming to watch me cheer, what am I going to do?
When the makeup wears off and the bruise is exposed, what will I do?
Will isn't in his seat when I walk into chemistry. I keep my head down as I find my seat. I sit alone with no one poking me, whispering stupid but funny jokes in my ear, or copying my notes because he's too slow at writing to keep up with the lesson.
I start to get that feeling I got when he left me the first time. He never said goodbye.
*
The whispers and stares have already begun. I've been to the bathroom during almost every class to check on the bruise and make sure it isn't visible, but it isn't. So what else could be going on? Why does everyone seem to see straight through me?
I slip into the girls bathroom and pull out the makeup I had packed. My bruise isn't showing clearly, but I don't want to risk anything. I apply more makeup and hope no one walks in.
Sadly, that's not the case.
Hannah walks in through the door. When she sees me, she hesitates and almost turns to leave, but I guess she has to pee too badly. I wait for her to say something, but she heads for a stall.
When I least expect it, she turns toward me. I look up in the mirror and look at her wearily.
"Have... are you all right?" She asks nervously. I feel my heart beat faster and I hastily wipe under my eyes before she can see the tears.
"Fine," I say quietly. "You?"
She purses her lips and looks away. I tear my eyes away to glance at my cheek to make sure it isn't visible. I don't think I've ever been so paranoid.
"Um, Jessa?" Hannah says tentatively. "There are rumors going around."
I drop my gaze from my face to hers when I turn to face her.
"About what?" I ask.
"You," she tells me. "And Will. Are they true?"
"What are the rumors, Hannah?" I ask, feeling impatient.
"There's different ones," she says. "Mostly that you and Will... you know... hooked up while you were still with Connor. And that Connor beat Will up pretty badly."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. Who would make up rumors like that? Why would they?
"I just thought you should know," she says before disappearing into a stall.
I gather my things and shove them into my backpack carelessly before leaving the bathroom.
I head down the hallway to my locker so I can switch some books. When I open my locker a folded piece of notebook paper slips out onto the floor. I suddenly feel as if everyone is staring at me, watching my fave and the note in my hand.
I shut my locker and disappear into my next class where I can sit and read the note.
Meet me behind the bleachers at the football field right after school.
There is no signature and it isn't even addressed to me, so how do I know what's going on? The handwriting doesn't belong to Connor because it's more legible than his third grade quality handwriting.
I slip the note quietly into my pocket and wait for the teacher to get class started. To my left is Hannah by the window. I try not to look at her and think of what she said to me.
I want to be angry at her for telling me those things. I can't find it in me, though. I've been angry enough at too many people in my life. I did take her for granted. I would blow her off to go hang out with someone else, even after I knew she would've been there for me.
I rest my head on my hands and hold my breath for a few seconds. When I release it, I train my eyes on the lesson in front of me and try my best to only think of it.
When the bell rings to dismiss us from class, I watch as Duke, a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy, make his way over to Hannah with a smile on his face. His real name is Derek, but he received his nickname of Duke by being the captain of the basketball team and, well, being good at his job.
I try not to stare when I see Hannah's smile creep onto her face. She looks nervous as he talks to her. For a moment I realize I never knew anything about this. She's mentioned him a few times, but I never realized it was so serious. Even she didn't act like it was.
But Duke isn't a nice person. Does she know that? Does she know that he's in Connor's group of friends? Sure she does - Hannah's observant. It's like she knows you before you even speak.
I don't dwell on this. I don't want to stick my nose where it shouldn't be, especially if it isn't wanted.
But Hannah saw me looking, and she looks back at me, her smile failing to stay on her face.
I quickly leave the room and brace myself for what is to come of this meeting under the bleachers. What if it's someone wanting to get at me for the new rumors circulating the school?
I hear the whispers as I exit the school, most of them being name calling.
One name echoes in my head continuously.
I slowly creep over to the bleachers, looking around me to make sure no one is watching me. Sitting at the far end on a cinder block is Will, his hair disheveled as usual and his body rigid. The cut on his forehead looks better than it did, hidden slightly by his hair.
I can see that his eyes haven't turned black and blue from the blow he must've taken to his nose. His thumb looks a little swollen from where I stand, too.
For a second I think about turning to leave. After what happened last night, I'm scared to face him. Scared that the things I felt will be too strong for me to hold back.
But it's too late. My shoes crackle over the gravels as I approach him and he looks up, his unusually pale face meeting mine.
He stands, straightening his shirt out and stuffing his hands into his pockets before walking the rest of the way to meet me.
"I don't know where to start," he says quietly.
I don't say anything. Even if I had something to say, I wouldn't be able to. I look around to make sure no one can see us. Even the kids out on the field can't see us under the bleachers. But how do I know if I'm being watched, like at the store when Will and I were handing out ice cream?
Will's eyes go right to where the bruise on my cheek is except he can't see it. At least, I hope not.
"You covered it up. Why did you do that?" He asks, almost offended.
I don't have a good answer for him, so I just shrug my shoulders.
"Jessa, please don't be distant." He reaches for me, and I allow him to pull me into a hug. I push away from him a moment later. "I'm sorry for kissing you, okay? It wasn't the time or place."
He says it as if he doesn't really mean it, though. And a part of me holds onto that.
"I need you to know something," he says, pulling me right back in again. "I chose to come back here. To this town, after I got out of military school."
"What?" I ask him, jerking my head towards him. I continue to look around and make sure no one is paying attention to us.
"I mean, my parents gave me the option. They said I could either finish my last year at Liahona or I could come back here. And chose here. I chose to come back to you."
My head is spinning. How could he even know that I would accept him back?
"Will..." I trail off. He takes another step closer and takes my hand in his. I want to pull it back, but something stops me.
There are too many questions. Why did he kiss that girl? What was her story, the one Will refuses to tell me? And, why did the kids I received from Prince Charming that night of the party so familiar?
"Just listen, Jessa..." he begins, but I cut him off by ripping my hand from his and backing away slowly. The tears I had tried so hard earlier to hold back are welling up in my eyes now. Blinking doesn't help - it only pushes them down my cheeks.
"If you came back for me, why can't you tell me what happened before you left? And do you know, Will, why the rumors are at school? What everyone has been saying and thinking?" I blurt before my blubbering can stop my sentences from being heard.
"What?" He asks, his eyes searching mine for some sort of answer. "What are they saying, Jessa?"
I take one more step back from him.
"I'm a whore, Will. That's what people think." There is no longer a filter on my mouth and everything I say stings me. I know it stings him too. "I just... I can't do this. I can't."
I turn and walk away, running until I reach my car and start it up.
I don't look back.
_____________
So, I know what I want to do with this story, but I'm having a hard time getting there. Please be patient with the story... it's a little sloppy the way I've written it and I know that.
I'm trying to get it sorted out but I don't have much time on my hands now that my high school graduation is coming up. Like I said, patience would be greatly appreciated!
The song is Mess I Made by Parachute!
Thanks so much for reading! Tell me what you think about the chapter! What are you thoughts on any of it? Hannah? Will? Jessa? I'd love to know!