about their last loss, even if it was ages ago. Oh, and there was a cat fight between Jill the thick girl with a strong uppercut and…”
Mrs. Henry shakes her head, still eyeing me. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
I suck in a breath, but keep the charade going. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Mia, whatever it is, I’m sure I can help.”
Can you make my mother feel better?
“That’s awfully amazing of you, Mrs. Henry, but like I said, there’s nothing wrong with me or anything that’s connected to me.” I smile radiantly. It’s never been easy to get this woman off my back, but she’s being pushy today.
“Mia…”
“Again, thank you for your concern, but nothing’s going on. Everything is fine and I really do have to go.”
And with that, I turn on my heel, feeling like I’m rotting from within, my heart thundering in my chest so hard, my blood is boiling.
The lies just keep coming and my armor is starting to take the blows and hard hits coming at me. I just hope now with Aunt Nicky at the doctors with Mom, there’ll be some good news when I get home.
6
“Hey, girl,” Kristine starts when I leave class. “What was that all about?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, quickly walking toward my locker, glancing at my watch again.
“That didn’t look like nothing.” She presses but the curiosity in her eyes isn’t of concern. It’s to try and squeeze information that I know she’ll uses to gossip about me. The fact that I’m aware of this and still call her my friend… God, give me strength.
“I used colorful language in my last paper that Mrs. Henry obviously couldn’t handle reading. And boy was she pissed.” The lie flies out of my mouth with an ease that almost shocks me. I almost never lie but when it comes to Kristine, it just happens for some reason. My guard comes up when she’s around.
“Oh, that’s so badass of you.” She laughs but it sounds forced. I roll my eyes, but she doesn’t notice. “It looks like you’re not taking any prisoners today! I heard that you told Brantley off. He’s super pissed at you.”
Oh yeah, that happened.
“Yeah, he can go cry me a salty ocean,” I say nonchalantly as I open my locker, taking out all the books I need for the weekend.
“You’re so funny,” Kristine gushes, her pink lip-gloss so shiny it’s blinding my eyes. “So, does this mean that the old Mia Montague, Queen of Clintwood Academy, is back?”
Back?
“What do you mean?” I glance at her from the corner of my eye, noticing the tight expression on her face.
With her unnatural blonde hair (she desperately wants to look like Roxy, by the way) her hazel eyes and the gum she’s been smacking all day, Kristine Marks is a beautiful girl. But she knows, just like everyone else in this school, that she tries too hard but doesn’t quite make it.
Her expression tightens now, her make-up looks blotched and desperately needs a retouch. I open my mouth to point that out but stop myself. There’s something about the way she’s scrutinizing me. When did it get this tense between us?
“Kristine, what?” I push again.
“Nothing. It’s just that, you know, you’ve just been acting so different these days. So…distant, preoccupied.” She watches me, peering closer, waiting for something but I don’t react. I’ve got my armor back on. “Is everything alright?”
If one more person asks me that damn question today…
“Yes.” I grab my Calc textbook, then my notebooks, shoving them in my bag. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it, right?” Kristine murmurs.
“What does that mean?” I question, shutting my locker with a thud, as I turn to look at her.
“Nothing. I mean, everything in your life is perfect.” I can hear the sarcastic, jealous note in her voice, but I ignore it. “Did you hear about the latest mean note?”
I glance at her, thinking of the notorious, random mean notes that have caused scandal after scandal at Clintwood. No one knows who writes them. No one knows who leaves them but each of the notes are always designed to demean and ridicule the recipient. And they are published publicly, for everyone to read.
It’s the meanest thing that happens in this school. The ten people that have received those notes since the thing started when I was a sophomore, all went on to transfer schools after the bloody mess each note caused. Friendships, relationships, and people were broken by those notes.
“No, who got