Westcott High

by Sarah Mello

  We changed the subject and tried to lighten the mood, but discussing the weather and cracking jokes didn’t get me too far—because little did I know, the entire lunchroom was about to turn the joke on me.

  “Carter,” a voice said from behind.

  Suddenly Cliff leaned down beside me and brought his lips to my ear. His presence felt heavy.

  “I didn’t know you had it in you,” he whispered.

  I looked out into the lunchroom as Winston and JC watched Cliff walk away.

  “What was that all about?” JC brought his attention back to me, tugging on the strings of his orange headphones.

  “I don’t know.” My eyes slowly made their rounds around the crowded cafeteria, where scattered whispers were brewing.

  “What is going on?” Winston asked, pulling out his cell phone.

  JC did the same.

  I, too, followed suit.

  I opened my phone. “Oh . . . my . . . God . . . ,” I let out, breathless.

  In that moment, although I’m not sure how, I managed to stand to my feet. The room began spinning, and the small talk rang in my ears. It was almost deafening. The sound of phones buzzing all around me felt like repeated punches to the gut. Everything became confusing, and everything became a blur. I was suddenly bum-rushed from behind as someone scooped me into their arms and walked me out of the cafeteria. I didn’t look up—but I knew who it was. And although he didn’t say a word—I heard him loud and clear.

  Dean grabbed my cell phone from my hands and gently pushed me into a vacant classroom.

  “Dean—”

  “What the hell is this, Sonny?”

  “Look, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know who took these pictures or how.”

  Dean looked down at the leaked photos. “Is this why you were tardy? You spent the night with Harrison?”

  “I—”

  “One night after you and I—”

  “Dean—”

  “Do you have any idea how this makes me feel?” Dean raised his voice. It wasn’t something he usually did, so I knew the occasion was a serious one. “Seeing you put out there like this? Seeing you and Jacob together like this?”

  “Yeah, Dean. I happen to know exactly how it makes you feel. Probably similar to how I felt watching you suck face with Norah for all these months.”

  “Don’t bring her into this, Sonny. This has nothing to do with that.”

  “It doesn’t?” I asked. “How is it different?”

  Dean leaned in. “I apologized, okay? You said you forgave me. I’m trying to make it up to you, and you said you’d allow me to do that, but I can’t do that if you’re with this guy.”

  “I said I forgave you. I never said I was over it. And shouldn’t you be the one comforting me?” I asked. “You're not the one in these photos.” I pressed my clammy hand against my forehead. “Do you know what this looks like?”

  The photos were innocent, as they almost always are. Jacob lay shirtless behind me, and I was covered underneath a throw blanket. But sometimes in high school, doing nothing wrong doesn’t mean you did nothing wrong in the eyes of others. And just because you’re innocent doesn’t mean you’ll always look that way. Not if you’re in a high school where the truth isn’t popular and where kids will do anything but ask for it. I knew the photos would paint me in a bad light because, after all, rumors almost always do.

  “Yeah,” Dean replied. “It looks a whole lot like Lana’s video.”

  “That’s a stretch,” I said.

  “I’m serious, Sonny. It looks like you slept with the new kid.” He paused. “After you saw how Lana was treated for doing what she did . . . I would think you’d be more careful.”

  “You aren’t helping.” I paced the classroom floor.

  Dean grabbed the back of his neck. “Look, I need to know that I’m not competing for you.”

  “Competing?”

  “With Jacob,” he replied. “I’ll do anything for you, Sonny. But not that. I’m not competing with a guy you’ve known for a month.”

  “It’s not a competition, Dean.”

  “Well, then stop speaking to him.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because he’s no good,” Dean said, “and that’s not me being jealous; that’s me recognizing there’s something off about him.”

  My face expressed confusion. “You can’t tell me who to be friends with.”

  Dean nodded, grabbing his chin and letting out a dry laugh. “Who took these?” he asked, emphasizing each word. “Who took these photos?”

  “I don’t know that either,” I replied, my mind flashing to Piper.

  “I think you do,” Dean said. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks. Running around the school with your friends, acting crazed and stressed out, and now this? What is going on, Sonny? Tell me.”

  “Nothing is going on, okay? I’m just helping a friend figure something out.”

  “Who? What?”

  “It’s nothing,” I replied, unwilling to drag him into this mess.

  He grabbed his head in frustration. “Would you talk to me, please? If something is going on, I want to help you. But you have to tell me what’s going on. You have to talk to me.”

  I stared into Dean’s eyes as tears began filling mine. Up until that point, I had never been the subject of a scandalous photo leak before, and I never knew what it felt like to be that girl. The sudden fear of losing everything hit me like a freight train, and I needed to be anywhere other than in that classroom with Dean.

  “I have to go.” I brushed past Dean’s shoulder and ran out of the classroom.

  Dean followed quickly behind. “Sonny, wait!” he shouted from the door frame.

  I turned around to face him, tears filling my eyes.

  “Did anything happen?” he asked. “Between you and Jacob?”

  The distance between us provided a barrier between what I once knew and what I was being pulled toward. Part of me wanted to run back, and part of me wanted to run to Jacob—and the other part of me, the more mindful part, wished I had listened to Kyle.

  I turned around and walked away, charging into the women’s restroom and collapsing into the furthest stall. I closed the door and locked myself in. It wasn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending my lunch hour, but there I was. I dropped to the floor and curled up into a ball—my knees to my chest. It was then when I realized, my day had come to meet me.

  Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, and I heard a familiar cry. I jumped up and tiptoed to the stall door, peeking quietly through the crack. I saw Casey’s blonde hair. She was hunched over the porcelain sink—her home away from home—her safe haven of sorts. A place that wouldn’t judge her for her hysterics. I placed my fingers on the lock, and just as I went to open the stall’s metal door, the one beside me flung open.

  “Ew,” Norah said, walking out from the adjacent stall.

  Casey grabbed both sides of the sink. “Hi to you too.”

  Norah walked up to the faucet, pumping soap onto her hands as she watched tears quietly fall from Casey’s eyes. “Fine,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Like you care,” Casey replied.

  “I didn’t say that I cared. I asked you what’s wrong.”

  Casey’s grip tightened. “Nothing.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Kyle and Ari getting back together, would it?”

  My mouth dropped as I hadn’t yet heard the news.

  Norah swayed her fingers under the water. “Look, Langdon, anyone could have told you they’d get back together. It’s what they do. They break up, they make up, they break up harder, and they make up harder.” Norah paused. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved with Winchester.”

  “What are you talking about, Norah?”

  “Oh, please,” she replied. “You and Kyle have a thing. The blind can see it. Ari sees it too. Which is exactly why she’s trying to lock him down again.”

  “Good for them,” Casey said. �
��I’m glad they’re happy.”

  “Saying you’re happy for people does nothing for you.” Norah turned the water off. “Be pissed and petty. That gets you places.”

  “Thanks, Norah. But I’m pretty sure I’m not interested in taking advice from someone who’s so broken she lies about her own father’s death.”

  Norah flung her fingers down beside her to shake off the excess water. “I’m not broken,” she said. “I’m bitter. And you should be too. Kyle’s been dragging you along for weeks now.”

  “Why are you trying to help me?” Casey asked. “Aren’t you Ari’s friend?”

  “Of course I’m not trying to help you.” Norah reached for a paper towel. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I won’t.” Casey began sobbing some more.

  Norah sighed. “Kyle likes you. I may not like him, and I may not particularly care for you, but it’s as obvious as the sky is black over this school.”

  “Yeah,” Casey replied. “I can tell by the way he got back together with Ari.”

  “If you act like it’s affecting you, then he’ll know you care.”

  “I do care,” Casey said.

  Norah wadded up a paper towel and threw it into the trash can with force. “No, you don’t,” she said. “If Kyle thinks you care about him, or that you care that he and Ari got back together, he’ll know he has you exactly where he wants you.”

  “I’m not like you, Norah.” Casey wiped her face. “I’m not a heartless Violet.”

  Norah crossed her arms. “Oh, Casey. You have no idea how much heart us purple girls have to embody to withstand being Violets. I envy girls on the bottom. When you fall, you have a shorter drop and a softer landing.”

  “Is that before or after you kick them down with your stilettos?” Casey splashed water on her face.

  “Maybe I’m not as heartless as you think,” Norah replied.

  “Or maybe you should stop pretending like you care about me,” Casey said, tears still falling. “It doesn’t pair well with your narcissism.”

  “Look, Langdon. I know a thing or two about guys. Narcissistic or not, I can help you.”

  “Yeah? How so?”

  “When Kyle texts you tonight—because knowing Kyle, he will—don’t text him back. And when he realizes something is wrong, apologizes, and asks if the two of you can be friends, you say no. Without a reason. Without a lame explanation.”

  “And how does this help me?”

  “Just do it. Okay?”

  Casey shook her head, tears still falling down from her cheeks.

  “Casey?”

  “Okay,” she replied. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good.” Norah yanked a paper towel from the roll and pushed it toward Casey’s chest. “Now wipe your face. Your desperation is leaking all over the sink.”

  Before I knew it, the bathroom cleared out. There was no more sign of Norah or Casey. I sat down on the toilet seat and stared out of the oval-shaped frosted window in my stall, allowing the sun to hit my face. It was the first time I’d spent my lunch hour in the bathroom, but it was surprisingly more peaceful than the cafeteria. I gazed at the sunlight, giving thought to what my junior year had become.

  After picking myself up and pacing around the tiny stall for a few more minutes, I opened the bathroom door and walked back into the hallway. The lunchroom down the hall was filled with hundreds of students, including the person responsible for the leak—and the many others who were responsible for much more than that. Because once a rumor leaves the hands of the offender, it can only grow if others nurture and carry it the rest of the way.

  “Sonny!”

  I turned around to find Jacob walking toward me. He was out of breath, like he’d been running around the school looking for someone. I assumed that someone was me.

  I fell against the wall of lockers and dropped to the floor in defeat.

  Jacob sat down beside me, scooting closely by my side. “Look,” he said, “I swear I had nothing to do with this.”

  I glanced toward the ceiling and let out a short breath, my eyes filling with tears. “I know.”

  “Are you being followed?” he asked.

  I grabbed the back of my neck. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Jacob grabbed my hand and pulled it back down.

  “It’s not exactly something I can prove.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “Do you think this was Dean?”

  I exhaled in frustration. “No. Not Dean.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jacob said.

  “I’m not doing this,” I mumbled, standing to my feet.

  Jacob jumped up. “Do what?”

  “I’m not listening to you rant about Dean.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m a little concerned that someone was standing outside of my window last night. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I’m not upset, Jacob. I’m confused.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because you say you like Norah—but based on the way you kissed me, my gut is telling me you like me.”

  “I do like you,” he said. “A lot.”

  “So you don’t like Norah, then?”

  “I do like Norah.” Jacob exhaled. “I’m just—”

  “You’re what? Confused?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I guess so.”

  “Well then, maybe whatever this is should be done,” I said, turning to walk away.

  Jacob walked up behind me and grabbed me by my arm. “Whatever this is?” He laughed. “And what exactly is this, Sonny? Do you even know?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I like you, Sonny. A lot. And there are things I can’t explain to you right now. But that doesn’t make me a bad guy. I’ve done nothing but throw myself at you since I met you. I’ve been texting you nonstop. I’ve been hanging out with you every weekend. You. Not Norah. You’re the one who tells me halfway through our friendship that you and Dean have a thing. You’re the one who’s confused.”

  “Oh, so this is about Dean?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Now it is,” he replied.

  “I didn’t think I needed to tell you about Dean. He was in a relationship.”

  Jacob glanced at the ceiling. “And what? Now that he’s not, it’s okay to talk to both of us?”

  “Dean and I are friends,” I said.

  “Is that why he spent the night with you?” he asked.

  “How did you—”

  “People talk,” he said.

  I listened as the cafeteria door swung open from down the hall. Students began spewing into the hallway.

  “That’s none of your business,” I said.

  “It is when you turn around and spend the night with me,” he said, looking toward the cafeteria door. “You think that’s okay?”

  “Oh, so you’re shaming me now?” I asked.

  Jacob relaxed his shoulders. “No, Sonny. Of course not.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep at your house,” I said. “It was an accident.”

  He clasped his hands and tossed them behind his head. “Was it a mistake?”

  His question caused me to pause. I never considered there was a difference between the two.

  “If it was a mistake,” he said, “and you want to be with Dean, then just tell me and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “I love Dean,” I replied.

  Jacob dropped his chin, his eyes searching for an answer in mine. “Do you like him?”

  I opened my mouth, trying to find the right words, but they never came.

  “Jesus, Sonny.” Jacob rubbed his eyes with flat fingers. “Just tell me the truth.”

  “I like him, Jacob.” My voice softened. “I always will.”

  Jacob stared into my eyes, then at the floor. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then nodded before stepping backward down the hallway. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd of students.

  I wanted to tell him not to go, because somethi
ng in me wanted him to stay. But I knew asking him to would be selfish. The worst kind of selfish. The kind that’s willing to break someone just so you can feel whole. And I wasn’t willing to break Jacob any more than he already was.

  “Did I interrupt something?” Kyle asked.

  I looked beside me. “No,” I said. “You didn’t.”

  “I saw the pictures.” Kyle shook his head. “Do you think Piper was behind this?”

  I buried my face in my hands. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  Kyle pulled me into his shoulder with one arm.

  “Are they that bad?” I mumbled.

  “They aren’t,” he replied. “You were just cuddling.”

  “Like people will believe that’s all it was,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t be concerned about that,” he replied. “I’d be more concerned with why Piper would do this. And why she’d be standing outside of Jacob’s window.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? She’s paying me back for not dropping this.” I pulled away. “Hey,” I said, rubbing my neck. “You and Ari?”

  He clenched his jaw. “Yeah. We’re going to try to work things out.”

  “I see.”

  “I’ll catch up with you later.” He tapped me on my arm. “Don’t worry about the photos. We’ll figure this out.”

  Kyle turned around to walk to class and immediately stopped as Casey walked by. Her face was still red from crying, and her disappointed eyes sat meekly behind her glasses. She glanced up at him, pressed her lips together, and continued walking toward the end of the hall. He stared at her until she was out of sight, and although he didn’t say a word, his sinking eyes said it all.

  How can you tell when someone’s fallen in love? Maybe you can’t. But maybe, if you pay real close attention, love itself decides to speak.

  13

  Dirty laundry

  Dirty laundry—the worst kind of clothes. It’s been said that the hardest stains to remove are the rumors that are aired about us. I believe whoever said that has never had to get mascara out of a white cotton T-shirt.

  Westcott High’s first basketball game of the season. A simple scrimmage—but at Westcott—every competition was overblown. And there was nothing simple about this one. The blue-and-white banners hung low from the gymnasium rafters, the parents filled the room with anticipation and intimidation, and the students filled the room with support.