My friends are at our usual seats at the end of the long row of cafeteria tables. The noise inside the large room strikes me first, becoming an assault on my senses. I'm still feeling off, like none of the rest of the world matters after losing my lead position. It could all fall away, and I'd still wonder why Georgia challenged me and how I failed.
I failed. Plain and simple.
As if on instinct, my fingers curl tighter around my bagged lunch. Mika looks over at the entrance and sees me. She lifts her hand in a little wave. Britt stifles a yawn, but doesn't take her eyes off her lunch. Stacy casts a sidelong glance at me, as if she doesn't know me anymore. What has been going on between us? The emptiness in her gaze sends shivers up my spine.
I can't possibly sit with them today. I can't possibly explain what happened in band. They would never understand.
I turn, walking toward Carter and the farther end of the long row. I slide into a seat opposite him. He's turning over a sandwich in his hands, observing it like it's a lab rat. "We're lunch friends now?"
"Friends?" I ask, arching an eyebrow. "Is that all?"
"Depends. Do we still get to make out?" He looks up at me, and I swear my heart starts beating for the first time today. A new, fluid rhythm that I've been lacking for days, months, years. His irises remind me of an oncoming storm over the tropics, deep, beautiful, and horrifying all in one moment.
"Depends," I counter.
He glances at the end of the table. "Doesn't seem like your friends know what to do with you."
"That makes two of us."
"What's up with you anyway?"
I shrug. "I'm not sure. This summer went by so fast, and I barely saw Stacy and Britt. Mika and I hung out a lot, but things have been weird since school started again..." I let the rest of my words drift away.
"Since me," Carter fills it in. He puts his sandwich down, and it slaps onto the tray like wet newspaper against concrete. "Are you using me to make your friends jealous, Emma?"
"What?" I ask, pulling out my lunch. My parents custom designed my sandwiches to be the best possible mix of brain food. I try to hand him half, but he waves it away. "What would I have to gain from their jealousy?"
Carter shrugs, a small smirk curving at the corner of his mouth. "You tell me. Good girl dates the bad boy, makes him better, the story goes on."
"I'm not." I glance down at the end of the row, and now Stacy is openly glaring at me. I'm not sure what her problem is.
"It's a statement to them, isn't it? Sitting with me?"
I let out a breath. "I'm not sure how to tell them what happened with Georgia. I'm not even sure they would care. You know that Mika's parents are talking her into marriage? While she's still in high school?" I take a large bite of my sandwich, letting that thought sink in. Carter pokes at a piece of his bread, not answering my rhetorical question. "My problems seem so inconsequential, but they still matter to me."
He nods. "I get that. Like this food. It's free, so I shouldn't complain, right?" The bread squishes under his fingertip and some mayonnaise bubbles through it from the other side.
I pull out an apple and offer it to him with a tilt of my head. He takes it and bites down hard. "You could have half of my lunch. It's fine."
"Then I'd be eating another free sandwich."
"But this tastes better."
"I'll settle for the free apple. Thank you." He curves another smile at me, and I feel sparks all the way down to the end of my toes. Our gazes lock, and I'm so wrapped up in looking at Carter that I almost miss the low angry voice behind me.
"You sleeping together yet?" The snarl is unmistakable. I've heard this judgement directed at so many other people, but never at me. It takes a moment for the words to settle into my brain. I whirl around and face Stacy.
"What is your problem?" I stand up, meeting her toe to toe.
"Isn't it obvious? You are." Her grey eyes swim with hatred.
"Why?" I fold my arms over my chest, wishing my glare could shut her up. I'm boiling with rage. "Because you dared me to ask someone out, I did, and now I'm happy?"
She scowls. "You'll never understand, Emma. So don't bother trying. And don't come back to our table either. We don't need you there, and it's clear you don't need us." Her glance cuts across the table to Carter.
"What the hell, Stacy! We've been friends our whole lives. What—" My voice stops short as I see tears welling in the corners of her eyes the longer she gazes at Carter. She turns away from me and bolts from the room. I turn back to Carter, and he looks as bewildered as I feel.
"What just happened?" I ask, more to myself than to him.
"Did she cry because of me?" he asks. "You know, I've never made a girl cry before. Except in second grade."
I narrow my eyes at him. "Remind me to ask you about that later." I leave the rest of my lunch behind, shoving it in Carter's direction, and I take off after Stacy. Whatever is going on with her, I need to know, because I can't take this attitude. I'm sick of feeling like I can't talk to my friends because of some invisible wall. Either we're still good, or we're not, and that's that.
I head into the bathroom, the only place Stacy would be allowed to go during our lunch period. She grips the sink tightly in her hands, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Tears fall silently down her face, making some of her mascara run. Despite her being upset, her blond hair still shimmers under the overhead lights, gorgeous in the dinginess of the bathroom.
"Leave me alone, Emma," she snarls.
"What happened?" Seeing her tears has me second guessing myself. I want to confront her. I want to tell her what a terrible friend she's been, but I hesitate. "Stacy?" I whisper her name as a question and cross the room as if approaching a cornered feral cat. Slow, steady, non-threatening.
"How is it that a guy like Carter treats you so well?" She directs her word into the mirror, staring back at herself without looking at me.
"You want him to be an asshole? You want me to be dating a jerk?" My questions are harsh, but I ask them quietly with no force.
Her jaw pulses as she stares at her reflection. Her face contorts with rage, and she punches the mirror. It remains solid, and she's shaking out her reddened hand. We're both stunned into silence, me because I've never seen this person standing in front of me before. I'm not sure where we go from here.
"I don't want to be jealous of you anymore," she whispers. It barely travels the space between us.
I take a step forward, and she takes a step back, inching closer to the far wall. I stop. I have no idea where she's coming from, or why she would be jealous of me in the first place. We've never been in direct competition. We've never had confrontations before. This is the first time I'm hearing about her feelings, and suddenly, I feel like a terrible friend.
But I also feel angry over being made to feel guilty. I've never tried to make her feel bad.
"I lost everything this summer, Emma. Everything." She glances up at me, and her watery gaze tells me more than she says. She lost everything. The emphasis is unmistakable, and my heart sinks.
"Stacy, I—" I'm not sure what to say.
There's a knock at the door, interrupting us. Stacy wipes her eyes and faces toward the wall. I open the door a bit. Carter's honest gaze meets mine.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I nod, stunned. "I'm okay. You need to go though. Talk later?"
He nods and turns down the hallway without glancing back, as if people have been telling him that his whole life.
They probably have.
I swallow a lump in my throat, close the door, and turn back to my friend. "Are you okay?" I copy his words.
She shakes her head, turning back to me. "I went to some college parties this summer, you know? Thinking it would be fun before junior year, get a taste of what's going to come next. This stupid town's always been ... stupid."
"Yeah," I agree and look down at my shoes. I'm at a loss for words, short of just being here to listen. Maybe that's all I need to do. Be here for her.
"Anyway, I wasn't expecting to see anyone I knew, or recognized. I mean, I went to the state school, so I guess a lot of people end up there. But when I saw Duncan Brill, I was surprised."
I meet her eyes now, and her lip curls with disgust around his name. Duncan was the valedictorian when he graduated two years ago. Most people knew about Duncan, or at least his story. The valedictorian who got rejected from every Ivy League out there. The person everyone thought would succeed ended up getting a pretty good scholarship to our state college. No one expected him to go there, and honestly, I had completely forgotten about him.
But now my heart fills with bitter rage.
"I knew him, so I felt like I could trust him. Being such a good guy and all of that." Stacy mashes her teeth together, chewing on nothing but her thoughts. "Anyway, we started talking, but he was really drunk. He introduced me to one of his friends, and then he passed out on the couch."
I open my mouth to ask, because I thought it had been Duncan, but I force myself to stay quiet instead.
"I don't even remember his friend's name." Stacy turns back to the mirror. She wipes underneath her eyes, slowly preening the make up off her skin. "He asked me to go to his room, and we were both a little drunk. I said sure, because I wasn't going to bow out that far into the party, you know? I figured we'd make out, maybe some foreplay. I wasn't afraid of that."
She stares at her reflection in the mirror, fingers shaking. Stacy wraps them back around the sink, as if supporting herself. I should be the one supporting her. I should have been there for her.
"One thing led to another, and I told him I didn't want to cross the line. I said no."
Tears well again in her eyes, and I cross the room, wrapping my arms around her. She turns into the hug, holding onto me tight. Her body wracks with sobs.
"I'm so sorry."
She shakes her head.
"I'm sorry for not being here for you," I clarify. "I want to be here for you."
Her fingers dig harder into my skin, but I continue to hold her, supporting her as much as I possibly can. If we stay like this for long enough, maybe it can erase the bad memories from her mind. Maybe it can fix the past. Maybe we can time travel and kick the guy in the balls instead.
I had no idea, and it makes me sick thinking about it. Everything had changed this summer, and I never understood why. Britt and Stacy had clammed up the second they got to school, focusing on dares and superfluous things instead of life. Now, I got it. Stacy told Britt. Britt was covering for Stacy, like any good friend would.
I'm angry with myself, but more, I'm angry with the guy that stole away my friend's choice. I'm furious he didn't listen to her. And I'm grief stricken that she has to live with this the rest of her life. No one should have to go through this. Ever.
"I'm sorry," I say again.
She pulls away from me and runs her fingers down one of my gnarled locks of hair. She yanks on the end of it, like she used to do in elementary school. "You didn't know."
"I should have asked."
"I should have told you."
"What happened after? Did you—"
She holds up her hand. "I don't want to talk about after, Emma. Okay? Someday, maybe, but that's all I have for now." Stacy takes in a long shaky breath as I nod. Turning back to the mirror, she chokes out a laugh. "Do you have any make up?"
"I think I have some shadow in my locker."
She sputters out chuckle, and I laugh nervously with her, but after a moment, her laughter turns genuine, and we both are almost doubling over. "You are the most useless girl," she says, tears back in her eyes from laughing so hard.
"I know," I say, smiling at her. "Want me to get Britt?"
Stacy's lips part in a sad smile. "Obviously. She'll rescue me from this disaster." Using perfectly manicured nails, she gestures to her reflection.
"You know, I might suck at the girly thing, but I'm here. If you need."
"I know."
"And I didn't mean to make you jealous."
Stacy rolls her eyes. "Can we forget about how I said that about you and Carter Ortese? I am not jealous that you're dating him."
"He's actually a good guy."
She combs her fingers through her hair, looking at me with a curious expression. "I didn't mean offense or anything. Just that he's not my type." Stacy cringes and turns back to the mirror. "How is it possible that he's the good guy in all of this?"
I'm not sure how to respond, so I decide on something lighter. "He has layers. A lot more than I think I know."
"Who would have thought. Bad guys are actually good and supposed good guys are actually bad." Stacy frowns again, and I worry she's about to lose what semblance of normalcy she's pulled together. Though, if she needs to cry, let her. She can react however she wants. She can be as angry as she wants. She can punch as many mirrors as she wants. Hell, if she screams loud enough to cave in the Grand Canyon, I'd understand.
She turns to me. "Thanks, Emma."
"For what, exactly?"
"For coming after me. You didn't have to."
I give her my best smile. "Always." I head for the door, turning to check on her one last time. She grabs a paper towel and wets it under a stream of hot water. I exit the bathroom and go to find Britt.
Stacy deserves better. She deserves a hell of a lot better. And I'm not sure what to do with the frustration boiling through my veins.
- - - - -
Thoughts? Feelings? Comments? It's a pretty heavy chapter, so feel free to say anything you need.