Maybe he didn’t tell me because he knew I wouldn’t fit in with them. Maybe he didn’t want me to be bored. Maybe he wanted me all to himself. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself as the doubt began to creep in.
Monday morning, I take the bus to school just like I do every day. But something is different this time.
I’m different, yes—but there’s something else, too. Whispers and quiet conversations start and stop as I make my way to the back of the bus. For a second it feels like they’re talking about me, laughing at something to do with me…but that can’t be the case.
I shake it off as paranoia.
When I walk out of the bus, I hear more whispers.
“Did you hear about what happened this weekend?”
“With that slut, Dimah?”
I’m about to stop and say something when I realize I must have heard it wrong. They must be talking about someone else. I grab my bag, walk out of the bus, and head inside. I have first period with Jacob, so I quickly swap out my books and head to homeroom.
The whispers continue. It feels like I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone.
I make it through the fifteen minutes of homeroom and head straight to first period; I take my usual seat and wait for the class to fill up. Right on time, Jacob—as tall and handsome as ever—makes his appearance. I sit a little higher in my chair, waiting for his eyes to find me. He doesn’t even look at me; instead, he walks to the back of the classroom, taking his usual seat.
Maybe he didn’t notice me. Maybe he had a tough weekend.
Maybe he’s struggling with something?
I hope his family’s okay.
Class begins. I tamp down my insecurities and try to reassure myself that it’s all going to be okay. When the end-of-class bell rings, I put my things in my bag—and see Jacob walk past and out the door from the corner of my eye. I follow him, ready to talk about this weekend.
About us. About what’s next.
Outside the classroom, I stop in my tracks. I recognize Jacob’s back; I also recognize the girl he’s with by her auburn hair. I stare at them, making out right in the middle of the hall, in the middle of everyone. People watch the spectacle as he pulls her closer. She runs her fingers through his hair—and as much as I want to, I can’t look away.
“Jacob.” His name leaves my mouth in a whisper I doubt he’ll hear. The students start hollering, cheering them on. Finally, they break the kiss.
“Jacob has completed his challenge!” Janice announces. I have no idea what challenge she’s talking about. Maybe kissing her in the middle of the hall is the challenge.
Maybe he didn’t want to kiss her, I tell myself.
Because I’m still telling myself that he wants me.
“What challenge?” I ask, finally finding my voice. All eyes turn to me—including Jacob’s—and people begin chattering. More whispers. More comments I can’t hear.
More feeling like they’re talking about me.
“Oh, you haven’t heard about the challenge, dear?” Janice purrs. I’ve never liked her. She’s poisonous, mean, evil. She hurts people and doesn’t care.
“What challenge?” I ask again. My eyes search Jacob’s, waiting for something—waiting for him to explain everything to me.
“He deflowered a virgin,” Janice says, looking me straight in the eyes.
7
Easy to replace with sugar.
I don’t know when I stopped letting the comments in the hall get to me, but I think that’s one of the better choices I’ve made in the last few months. That, along with spending the summer as far away from here as I could get.
My regular classes end, and the only thing left is gym. Instead of changing in the locker room like I’d normally do, I walk into the bathroom during the break and change into my gym clothes.
The lengths one has to go to in order to avoid conflict around here are outrageous.
I walk into the locker room to put my bag away just as people are leaving. Once again, I feel the tension in the air. Some of the girls, especially Janice’s minions, stare at me disdainfully before going back to whatever conversation they were having—probably about me. I wish it wasn’t. I wish last year could be buried deep down, but somehow people still haven’t gotten over it.
Easy.
Slut.
Virgin.
Bet.
I walk into the gym just as class is about to start. “Today we’re playing volleyball,” Mr. Walker states, his voice quickly silencing the room. “We’re going to stretch, then each of you will need to find a partner so you can practice bumps, sets, and spikes. Then we’ll play a game.” Some students cheer, and I feel a smile creep onto my lips.
Ms. Tillman guides us in the stretches and as soon as we’re done, everyone looks for a partner. I don’t move, but some of the cheerleaders head straight to the few football players in our class. And Janice? Well of course, she heads straight toward Aron—and I watch their interaction from my place on the floor.
“I’m good.”
I hear those words come out of Aron’s mouth, and I watch in shock as he walks away from Janice. I don’t think I’m the only one who heard it, either; silence overtakes the room again. Janice stares daggers at the back of his head. Every step he takes away from her only makes her angrier.
I look down at my feet, at the small scar I got when I was learning how to ride this summer. Accidentally burned it on the muffler—a perpetual reminder of change.
“Want to practice together?” At the sound of his voice, I jerk my head up, only to find him looking down at me.
“Um…” I’m a little stumped. Yesterday, he picked me first for dodgeball, and today he turned down Janice to choose me?
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, extending his hand.
I slip my palm into his and he pulls me up from the floor. “I don’t get you,” I utter.
“What don’t you get?”
“The most popular girl in this whole school just asked you to be her partner and you turned her down. Then you ask me. Why?” It’s a new year. He’s a senior. Graduation is coming. I don’t want to be this year’s challenge. Those are the only thoughts in my mind as I ask him to be honest with me.
“Do I really need a reason? I just didn’t want to be partnered up with her,” he answers, not clearing anything up for me.
I don’t know why I expected him to. “But you want to be partnered up with me? That’s what I don’t understand.”
“Why’s it so hard for you to understand someone wants you?” he asks, and while I know he’s talking about choosing me as his volleyball partner, I can’t help but think about what else he could mean. No one would want me—and if they do, it’s because they don’t have another choice.
“Before the homecoming dance, you never said a word to me.”
“I was a different person then.”
“Really? How so?”
“Give me a ride on your motorcycle and maybe I’ll tell you,” he says with a wink.
Is he flirting with me? God, why is my mind so messed up? Why am I damaged? “Hmph.”
“Playing hard to get?” he says.
I shoot even bigger daggers at him than Janice did earlier. “Despite what you may have heard, I am not easy,” I tell him, turning to walk away. I reach the bin of volleyballs, but stop when I feel Aron closing in.
From behind me, he says, “That’s not what I meant to imply.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“I’m an idiot. Sometimes shit comes out of my mouth that maybe shouldn’t. And yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says.
He’s said that before, but this time it’s like someone punched me in the stomach; all the contents suddenly want desperately to spill out at my feet. “Of course you have,” I whisper, my anger rising. Despite the rage, I keep my voice low. “And that’s why you thought you’d befriend me—because you think I’m a slut. You thought you found yourself an easy lay. So is the
re some bet happening again this year? Another challenge? A rite of passage? Because I’m not a virgin anymore, if that’s the case.”
“No. That’s not it at all. I know the rumors are lies; I know you’re not an easy lay. You just fell for the wrong person. And he was an asshole if he didn’t see how smart and beautiful and strong you are...” When I roll my eyes, he adds, “You are stronger than you think—stronger than you show.”
My voice is still low as I mutter defiantly, “You don’t know me.”
“Not as much as I want to, but I’m trying.”
“Stop trying,” I tell him. We walk back to take our position at one of the nets set up around the gym. I may not want to continue having this conversation, but I do have to follow directions.
“I’m not going to stop—not until you give me a good reason for why I should,” he says, bumping the ball over to me.
I have a lot of reasons why he should back off, reasons not to trust him. Reasons not to trust anyone…
But I’m also tired of pushing people away.
Conflicted, I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”
He smiles patiently. “Not all things are meant to be understood.”
Rites of Passage
“It’s a tradition for the graduating players to do a few tasks in order to successfully pass the mantle. They all pick a card from a jar which gives them a mission. They range from basic challenges like TP’ing someone’s house to more challenging tasks like deflowering a virgin. Jacob here got the short end of the stick and selected the virgin card,” Janice explains—like it’s a game, like it doesn’t affect people. Like it isn’t affecting me. I stand in the hallway, helpless as everyone watches Janice, Jacob and me.
“You thought it was going to be impossible, right babe?” she asks, running her fingers up his chest.
His eyes are heartbreakingly full of amusement. “Yeah,” he says casually.
“I told him he should pretend we’d broken up, and then invite Ms. Emerson to prom. She’s had a crush on him for years now,” Janice sneers, enjoying her moment.
She’s making a performance of humiliating me; she’s talking to everyone else, pushing in the knife. I feel a panic attack creeping in. I’m ready to lose it all and just cry. Or scream…
Or fight.
“I mean, it definitely sucked not going to prom with my boyfriend, but after he handled his disgusting task, he came right back to me—and with enough time for us to have the last dance, too” she continues.
Serpent.
“She really thought you cared about her,” Janice adds, chuckling as she looks up at Jacob.
He pulls her closer to his side. “Not even a little.”
With those four words, he breaks the fragile hold I’m keeping on my emotions. The tears start to fall; I want to run, but I’m frozen in place.
“Easy lay though. One night—that’s all it took,” Janice says. Stretching up on her toes, she kisses Jake before continuing her demoralizing little performance. “I mean, thinking about him with her was vomit inducing, but we just had to do it. Plus, he said it was so anticlimactic he couldn’t wait to leave anyway.” Janice shrugs as everyone laughs out loud, having a wonderful time at my expense. Then she sighs dramatically, flipping a hand in my direction. “Such an easy flower to pluck. I still can’t believe she gave it up like that—he barely even had to make an effort, even though it’s unbelievable to think she thought Jacob would leave me for her. Why would he leave me for such a fat, plain, slutty bitch?”
I can’t hear anything anymore. I feel like a fish out of water, drowning. With tears streaming down my face, I walk away, but the chants still surround me. People are cheering for Janice and Jacob, calling me all sorts of names.
Slut.
Whore.
Easy.
Desperate.
Fat.
Ugly.
Over and over again, I hear their mocking. The door closes behind me; it’s raining outside but I don’t care.
I run home as the rain pours. When I get to my house, I run into my room and hide under the blankets—but the voices just scream louder, echoing in my mind, demeaning me.
But what I hear, louder than any voice from the crowd, is his silence.
He never cared about me.
8
Though we both know I taste purely sweet like sugarcane.
“You should stay away from Aron,” a very familiar voice says from behind me. It’s a voice I’ve come to hate, one that still causes me to jump every time I hear it.
Janice’s voice. I can’t believe the power she has over me.
“I’m talking to you, slut,” she says—louder this time.
I flinch again. Dropping my books, I turn to face her, but she pushes me against the locker, drawing the attention of other students who turn to watch. Sharks who’ve smelled the blood in the water and are eager to see the attack.
“I—”
“You what?” Janice snarls.
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. But what I still don’t understand is why you think any guy could possibly be interested in you.”
“I don’t. I don’t think that at all.” I get smaller and smaller with each word she utters, retreating into myself.
“Good. You shouldn’t. And losing all that weight did nothing to make you more appealing. For the record, the all-black gothic shit you’ve got going on isn’t helping either.” She’s looking down on me as she speaks, just like always—degrading and demeaning me in front of everyone.
“Just because he gives you a little attention doesn’t mean he cares about you, anyway. Remember what happened the last time you thought someone wanted you?” she asks knowingly, reminding me of the past. “Pathetic. That’s what you are, you know?” She finishes with a sinister smile, bumping into me as she walks away.
Groping blindly for the latch, I open my locker and bury my head inside, hoping to drown out the noise, taking the chance to gather myself. I may not be able to hold back the tears, but that doesn’t mean I want everyone to see them.
Just a few more days. Just a few more weeks. You’re almost done. You can do this, Dimah, I tell myself, repeating my mantra so I can make it through the next few days, the next few minutes. The laughter behind me is still going as the student body rejoices in the fact that I was put down. Again.
I take a deep breath. I feel like such an idiot for allowing myself to be belittled, for not standing up for myself.
Someone touches my shoulder, making me jump.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Aron says, and I turn to face him slowly.
“It’s fine.”
“Your eyes are red. Are you okay?” He asks the question innocently, with a sweet and caring voice—but I can’t help remembering Janice’s words. This is no different than last year. Aron is no different than Jacob.
“Yep. I’m great,” I tell him, closing my locker and walking away.
“Wait up!”
I walk to my motorcycle, hoping Aron stayed behind. I don’t need him bringing more attention to me. Janice doesn’t need any more ammunition to attack me.
“Stop,” Aron says, grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
“Leave me alone,” I respond, tears threatening to spill once again.
He scans my face. “What happened? What’s going on?”
I pull my arm away. “Nothing.”
“It’s clearly not nothing otherwise you wouldn’t be crying right now!”
“I’m not crying.” But as the words leave my mouth, a tear trails down my face, betraying me.
“Talk to me,” he begs.
“I can’t.”
“You can if you want to. Please, talk to me,” he presses again. I look behind him, seeing that once again we’re drawing attention. Amid the crowd, I find Janice shooting daggers at me with her eyes. She looks at Aron, then back at me. Then she shakes her head and smiles deviously.
“No,�
� I reply.
“Why not?”
“Because, you don’t actually care. Nobody does.”
“What did they do to you, Emerson?” he whispers. He looks back at the mass of students still watching us, wondering what the handsome quarterback could possibly want with the slutty, ugly girl.
“Like you don’t already know,” I whisper brokenly.
No Calm After the Storm
The weeks following prom weren’t pleasant. Actually, they were a living hell. Every time I walked by anyone, I’d get the dirty looks. The laughter. The fucking judgment.
I didn’t expect my junior year to be this crappy. I didn’t expect Jacob to be a horrible human being.
Speaking of Jacob, he hasn’t said a thing to me since prom night. He took my virginity, made a joke of me in front of everyone, and let Janice make fun of me as much as she wanted.
Part of me hoped it was because he felt shitty about what he did, but I knew it was because I was the new pariah—the one no one wanted to be near. And to think I gave him a part of me I couldn’t get back, a part I could never give to anyone else. Stupidly, I thought we were finally going to be happy together …
“Sweetie, are you okay?” my mom asks me from across the dinner table, shaking me from my thoughts.
“Fine,” I say. But fine isn’t really the truth. I am everything but fine. If I could walk around the school with earplugs to block out the noise without looking ridiculous, I would. Headphones do most of the work for me, but since the school banned them from use indoors, there isn’t much they can do to protect me from the sea of gossip I’m drowning in.
“Are you sure?” she asks, waiting for confirmation.
“Yep.” I lie to her face, ashamed. I wonder if she can tell.
“Are you excited the year is coming to an end?” She’s desperately trying to make dinner time conversation—conversation I’m not inclined to have.
“Yeah.” The truth this time—and that’s the only response that has been genuine. School ending for the year means I won’t see Jacob ever again, won’t have to live with the constant reminder of how naïve I was. I won’t have to look at the guy that took my entire reputation and flipped it on its ass.
Not the End (Not Alone Novellas Book 1) Page 4
