back home and coming here was supposed to be my fresh start.” I sniffle as the tears I’ve been holding back all day finally break free. “But someone from home is here and I... I can’t.”
My sniffles give way to chest-heaving sobs.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Stella reaches out as if to hug me, but drops her arms at the last minute, taking my hand in hers instead. “You’re okay.”
“I’m not. I’m not, I’m not.” I draw my knees to my chest, and repeat those same three words over and over, my head shaking side-to-side.
“Emmy, stop it!” Stella shouts. The unexpected sharpness of her tone instantly pauses my breakdown. “There, that’s better. Now, listen. Everyone has a past. Everyone has demons. Everyone, babe. Even the freaking pope. But that doesn’t mean you let them rule you.”
“How?” I whisper, my voice hoarse from crying.
“By dealing with it. Head on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who is this person? Can you avoid him?”
I shake my head. “He’s my TA.”
Stella cringes. “Ooh. Can you talk to the professor? Change classes?”
“The thought of changing crossed my mind. Do you think I could?” A small seed of hope blooms in my chest.
“Log in and check. You should be able to request it through your portal.”
I’m still not ready to leave the comfy warmth of my bed. Luckily, Stella understands my puppy eyes and grabs my laptop for me.
“Thanks,” I murmur, as I pull up my web browser and log in. Except, every time I try and submit a request to change the class, an error message pops up. “Ugh!”
“What’s wrong?” Stella asks, leaning into my space to look at my screen. “Oh. That blows.”
“What do I do?” My earlier panic threatens an unwanted encore.
“Try your advisor?”
“That’s a good idea.”
I exit out of the portal and open my student email.
Professor Ellison,
I am emailing to request a meeting with you about my class schedule. I tried adjusting it via the portal, but keep running into an error message.
Thank you in advance,
Emmy Pierce
“There,” I say, feeling moderately better. “Now all we have to do is wait for him to reply.”
“And pray like hell he accommodates your request,” my roomie unhelpfully adds.
“That, too.” As I move to close my laptop, a whoosh sounds, alerting me to a new email. “He replied!”
“That was fast! What’s it say?”
“That he can see me tomorrow at noon!”
“You know what that means?”
“What?”
“No more panic until you know for sure there’s something to panic over. Okay?”
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
Stella grins. “Good. Oh, and it also means you owe me a meal. I tried getting soup, but it looked inedible.”
I can’t help but laugh. “What sounds good?”
Her eyes flare wide. “Babe. I skipped lunch for you. I’d eat just about anything.”
“So, we should go back for the soup?”
“Okay, anything except that.”
“Let’s order a pizza?” I suggest.
“Only if we follow it up with ice cream and a chick flick.”
“Can do.”
The rest of the night is spent stuffing our faces and watching Sierra Burgess Is a Loser. It’s easily the best night I’ve had in a while.
But then sleep comes, and my past sinks its claws into me during my REM cycle.
“Stupid little bitch.” My former best friend Nichole glares at me with nothing but hatred in her cool blue eyes. “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
While her cruel, venomous words sting, they’re nothing compared to the betrayal I felt when she took Rob’s side. The way she dropped me like I was nothing to her, after sixteen years of friendship... that almost hurt more than my own mother turning her back on me.
Laughter and jeers follow me down the hall, each one more cutting than the last.
“Ugh, watch out. Wouldn’t want to catch an STD.” Stacie, the cheer squad’s newly minted captain, takes an exaggerated step away from the center of the hallway.
Her boyfriend wraps a protective arm around her and glares at me, as if I can somehow taint his precious little girlfriend by proximity alone.
His best friend, however, has no qualms about getting close to me. “Hey, baby.” The meathead jock steps into my path, crowding me. “Twenty bucks and I’ll let you suck my dick.”
“She’s not worth it,” Aaron, my first love and the boy I thought I’d marry, scoffs. “Pussy’s like parking in a two-car garage. Shit was so loose, I felt like I was fucking a cup of water.”
Tears burn my eyes, and shame paints my cheeks. It doesn’t matter that we never even made it past second base. I’m now the school slut, and it’s