“What the fuck?” I say. “What the actual fuck is wrong with them?”
“Money does shitty things to shitty people.” Lily leans back, and gives a strained chuckle. “But that wasn’t the end of it.”
“What else happened?”
“Vivian and Bernadette started sending me hateful texts. Telling me to go kill myself, to just do the world a favor. Every morning, they’d try and douse me with water or slushies or coffee or whatever they could get their hands on. Emmett started spreading rumors about me being easy, as if that’s why he broke it off with me. And then...”
“And then what?”
“Then they planted a joint in my locker second semester of high school. Told a teacher. I was suspended, and thankfully my dad was able to convince them that this was a setup, otherwise I would have been expelled.”
We fall silent. Lily’s experience – no, torture – hangs between us, a giant reminder of who not to fuck with.
“They will remind me every so often to stay out of their way,” she says quietly. “They like to, you know, resort to public humiliation or rumors or physical intimidation. Really just what they’re feeling like that day.”
“That’s fucked up,” I say. Lily’s experience juxtaposes against mine – she’s had four years of constant harassment and bullying, and I’ve only had two whole days. I dread what might come next. “How’d you get through it?”
“Therapy,” she says. “But I had to go to a therapist in Boston. Anyone else is connected to them, and they would’ve found out. Also, lots of chocolate. I gained a lot of weight my freshman and sophomore years. That certainly didn’t ward them off.”
My heart hurts. I feel like I’m confined in a box, trapped on all sides, and The Elites just keep pushing and pushing and waiting until I break down. Until I beg to be let out.
My eyes find Lily’s. She’s pensive, looking at me with concern, wondering how I’ll react. I want to tell her that there must be some way to retaliate against them, some way to get them to stop.
“That’s hella fucked, Lily,” I say, shaking my head.
“Yeah, but what are you going to do?” she says. “This town has been built around them. This place is theirs. It has been theirs for centuries, and it’s not like it’s going to change any time soon.”
Unfortunately, I’m worried Lily is right. I rub the condensation on my glass – is this just what I’ll have to deal with?
“Okay,” she says, “enough about this. Let’s go have some fun. Chug, girl!”
I laugh – Lily is a little crazy. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of drinks before, but it’s always been in a controlled setting. At someone’s house, at home – never in public, where we could get in trouble for being minors.
“How about we just sip and talk?” I ask. “I’m not really feeling up for getting drunk.”
Lily rolls her eyes, but she smiles at me. “You’ll stop being bummed by them soon. You’ll soon realize that it’s just a stupid fucking game and that it doesn’t matter, even if it hurts all the time.”
“That’s morbid,” I tell her, taking my first sip of the Pilsner. It goes down nice and easy. I don’t like the taste of beer, but this is tolerable. “I don’t think, you know, that’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” she says. “It’s the farthest thing from okay. But what can we do about it? We’ve got one year left, and then we can get the hell out of here.”
She’s using “we” even though I met her six days ago. But I like that she’s included me in her statement, and I realize that Lily is on her way to becoming a friend. A friend of circumstance and coincidence, perhaps, but a friend nonetheless.
“Hell yeah,” I say, cheering her. I lift my glass and we clink to celebrate. “One more year.”
“Less than three-hundred days, actually,” she says. She pulls out her phone.
“Hey,” I say, eyeing her. “How come you could bring your phone?”
“This is a burner phone,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “I just bring it when I go out – nobody except my family and now you know I have it.”
“What the fuck,” I mutter, mor
e in awe of the fact that she’s had to use a burner phone, and her family most likely put her up to it. “And your family knows all about The Elites and stuff?”
“Yeah, they do.” She’s busy pulling up an application on her phone. “Luke and I are very close with our parents. Anyway, here, this is what I wanted to show you.”
I grab her phone and eye the countdown box. It’s surrounded with glitter and fun little animations that look like stringers and confetti. Days Until June 5th: 279.