ly is rooting for me makes me inconsolable. “I just want to go home and nap. Besides, for whatever reason, you’re still talking to me and I don’t want you to get dragged into this again.”
She nods, like that makes sense. “I was going to offer to let me cover that up for you. You know, since I’m sure your parents don’t know.”
It’s a cruel sort of world when Lily looks at me like she knows. They’ve done this to her too, long ago. I nod feebly, and we clamber into my car. She pulls out some heavy concealer. The color is lighter than my skin tone, but it’ll have to do.
I close my eyes as Lily gingerly covers up my mark. Her touch is kind and gentle, and again I feel the onslaught of emotion nearly overcome me. I’ve been nothing but trouble for her, but she’s still willing to help me when she can.
“There,” she says after a couple minutes. “All done.”
I flip down the mirror. It looks as good as it can get. “Great job, Lily.”
“Thanks, I just figured you would need it.”
Her small act of kindness means more to me than she’ll ever know. I swallow the lump in my throat and just nod wordlessly. We stare out the windshield silently for a couple seconds before Lily shifts uncomfortably.
“What did Emmett tell you at lunch today?” she asks.
I look at her sharply. “He’s just trying to bully me.”
“Oh,” she says.
I realize that I’m being unduly harsh, and I try to soften my words. It’s not her fault I’m hurt and angry and sad. “I’m just tired, Lily. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I should probably get going here pretty soon, but do you mind if I wait until we see The Elites leave?”
I nod. “If you want, you can get into the back – it’ll be harder for them to see you there.”
After a minute of shuffling and scooching around, Lily is settled into the back seat. I touch the freshly applied makeup with my fingers. “Thanks again, Lily.”
She nods curtly. “No problem.”
“Oh, there they are,” I say, twisting over the back of my seat to see out the back window. Lily and I watch the Elites mosey out of the school. Emmett’s arm is slung over Vivian’s shoulder, and Bernadette is nestled into...
“Are Trey and Bernadette a thing?” I ask, watching him jostle her against his side as she laughs, tilting her head.
Lily’s nose crinkles. “Sort of. They’ve had an on-and-off thing for a while.”
It’s just one huge Elite Orgy. Maybe they’re all inbred. But they’re all ridiculously gorgeous, so probably not.
We watch as Emmett’s black car and Bernadette’s red Lamborghini speed out into the main road. Vivian, it turns out, drives another one of those black cars with the Jameson logo on it. A flickering steam of jealousy heats my face. She probably got gifted one of those cars. Maybe for fucking Emmett. The Whitworth twins drive away in a sleek sports car – yellow and indistinguishable from this far away.
“Okay,” Lily says, opening the car door. “Thanks for letting me hide out.”
“It was the least I could do,” I say, and when I reflect on what those words mean, I wish that I wasn’t so sincere. What kind of world do we live in where she needs to thank me for hiding out in my car? “Honestly.”
* * *
When I arrive home, it’s silent. Mom won’t be back until 8:30, and I take Brendan’s absence as a sign that he’s occupied with an interview. I hope he gets it.
Exhausted, I slip into a pair of comfortable panties and an old track meet shirt. I turn off the lights and flip over onto my back. My room is still bare, and the only things out of their boxes are my clothes and sheets. The rest of my nicknacks – photos, memorabilia, posters and track medals – are still packed away. I know I should at least hang my golden and purple tapestry I found at the flea market back in one of the cities I had a meet in. But the effort seems trivial.
What’s the point in trying to make my room feel homey when clearly nobody wants me in this town?
For the first time, I take a look at my phone. It’s fully charged – they must’ve plugged it in for me. The thought of them going through the effort of keeping my phone charged strikes me as odd. Why would they care if it died?
I put in my password and the home screen is just how I left it. I view my recent google history – nothing. But since my phone is linked to my computer, they clearly saw my efforts to research them last night. Of all things, the idea makes my cheeks heat with the barest hint of shame.
Emmett Jameson had added himself as a contact. He even had the audacity to put a little heart at the end of his info.