saying—”
“It’s not just that,” I mumble into my knees.
“What?”
“It’s not just me gaining weight and Chase dumping me.”
“Abigail, come on.” Sasha rubs circles on my back. “You don’t have to say anything else. Let’s just get you home.”
It occurs to me then that she doesn’t think that I should tell Sarah about my grades, and that her and Jennifer have clearly not told anyone about it either—they’ve kept my secret. I guess they are real friends after all.
“Well what else is it?” Sarah asks. Her innate need for gossip is stronger than any subtle warning Sasha is trying to give, regardless of me being her supposed best friend. “Abigail?”
I look up at her, and even knowing she’s the queen of gossip, even knowing she’ll tell anyone who will listen within minutes, even knowing she just dissed me in front of my face about the state of me over the last couple of months, I’m still drunk enough to think she might actually care and want to help me with my crap. “I’ve fucked up my grades. I’m not going to graduate with you guys.”
5
I might as well just turn around, go back home, and never come back.
That’s what I want to do as I stare at the school building on Monday morning.
I cannot believe the fool I made of myself on Saturday night.
I was so mortified when I woke up yesterday morning that I ignored my texts and missed calls and just turned my phone off then spent the day in bed.
It didn’t make me feel any better. I kept replaying again and again the conversations I had, and I can’t get the looks of horror on Aaron and Brendon’s faces out of my mind. They were so uncomfortable.
I actually tried to get naked in front of Brendon!
What the hell was I thinking?
My stomach twists with nerves, and I know I’m going to hate every second of today. I have no doubt that the news of Abigail Baker, queen bitch of Grove Valley High School, being drunk out of her mind and rejected by two different people who happen to be the best friends of the guy who dumped her will have spread like wildfire throughout the student body.
I’m sure I won’t get an ounce of sympathy from anyone, and after the way I’ve behaved toward people since I was a freshman, I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve any.
I look down at my phone, which is still turned off, and decide to leave it that way. I’d rather not know what people are saying about me. I check the time on my dashboard, deciding to not leave my car for another two minutes. There’s no way I’m going to hang out in the hallways, giving them all a good punchline before my first class of the day.
I cannot believe I let myself get so horribly drunk and stupid on Saturday night, and it’s not the first time either. For months now, I’ve been pulling stupid crap at parties and making a fool of myself, although this one definitely takes the cake in terms of the most humiliating.
I hit on Brendon and Aaron!
And so publicly too.
Public rejection is not a good look.
I sigh as I watch students stream into school as the late bell rings, and I know I’m going to have to leave the relative safety of my car soon. My eyes stretch across the student parking lot and I spot Sarah making her way up the stairs with Alicia, Melissa, and Kate, other girls on the cheerleading squad.
My stomach turns at the sight of them.
Alicia, Melissa, and Kate are not in our usual circle. They’re always around, usually on the periphery, but they’re not part of our core group, and I can’t help thinking about how I didn’t hear from Sarah at all yesterday. I know my phone was off, but if she were a real friend, she still would have found a way to get in touch with me, to check that I was okay after seeing me so devastated on Saturday night. She has the number for my parents’ house, and she only lives a couple of streets away so could easily have come around to see me, but she chose not to.
And now here she is with girls I know for certain do not have my back and who are definitely not my biggest fans after years of us all griping at each other.
To say the sight of them makes me feel uneasy is an understatement.
I