Figure it out yet, bitch?
10
Chapter Ten
The next day, I am instantly hit with an uneasy sense of foreboding as I apprehensively walk into school, pushing strands of my ragged hair from my face. With a deep breath, I clutch my backpack and sweater and push myself forward.
My stomach turns in anticipation of what will be waiting for me today. I am expecting something awful in the wake of the crash with Emmett.
I am immediately caught off-guard at how unnoticed my entrance is. Everyone carries on like normal, not even glancing in my direction. I pull my jacket tighter, looking down as I navigate around other passing students in the halls.
But I don’t have to do much to work my way through the crowd. Quite the opposite of being the center of attention as I expected. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, the tips of sneakers coming into view promptly step away as I move forward.
I glance up, expecting a sea of snarls and angry glares in my direction. But cheeks are turned with noses high, looking everywhere they can except for at me. It’s like I have the plague.
I faintly hear one girl whispering to another, “Here she comes. Look away.”
The elaborate game continues. What new way can we fuck with Ophelia today? Having run out of all their other tricks in their books, they seem to be waiting patiently for an idea of what to do next. Maybe that means I finally found some sort of advantage. I have, at least temporarily, outran their schemes.
Shoes squeak across the floors through the echo of everyone laughing and talking, clicking through their combinations and slamming lockers open and shut with thuds of their belongings being thrown inside. The moment the bell rings, the crowd disperses. But I’m in no hurry to rush off to class today.
The hair on my arm raises as my fingers graze my cold metal locker, taking the weight of the combination lock in my hand. The metal shows traces of my sweaty hands. Once I’ve thrown a few things in and taken a few things out, I look around again. Expecting the Elite mob to be stalking from a nearby corner, waiting to find me alone.
But I see no one. Everything is completely silent except for the muffled sounds of teachers starting their lectures.
My palm presses against the soreness of my neck as my eyes cut around the silent, empty halls. I roll my shoulders back against my neck, my fingers trailing up to fiddle with my necklace as I slowly step toward my first classroom.
I feel no better once I settle into class, the teacher and students around me carrying on as usual. I raise my hands a few times, even though I don’t know the answers, just hoping to be called on so someone will have said my name or looked in my direction enough for me to know I’m still alive.
Did I die in the car crash? Was everything after that just my brain’s weird way of fantasizing my life into continuance? And now reality’s set in, my existence is fading into nothingness?
My mouth fills with the taste of wood from the pencil I have been gnawing at relentlessly, sparking an idea. I let the pencil fall to the floor, thinking someone will look up or pick it up to hand it back. But nothing. It quietly clicks against the floor as it rolls right out into the middle of the room, completely untouched and seemingly unnoticed.
My foot bounces wildly underneath my desk, my eyes darting to the clock on the wall every few seconds. I can’t stop reaching down to dig through my purse, forgetting what I was looking for each time.
I blow out several short breaths, trying to steady my heart rate, but my fidgeting and noisy exhales don’t bring a single darting glance my way. Even the teacher seems to be actively ignoring me.
I jump at the ring of another bell, following closely behind as everyone floods back out into the halls. Stopping at the edge of the door, my finger presses the button to light up my phone screen, wondering if another mysterious message will come through with a clue. Or even a menacing text from Emmett. But nothing.
My stomach churns and time moves too slow as the halls of the school seem to wind down to nothing in front of me, closing in on me. Normally I would welcome getting lost in the tide of students between classes. This is the kind of isolation I had expected when I first came here. But in this context, it feels wrong.
My hair is matted in the same ponytail as yesterday, tangled from restless tossing and turning in my bed all night. I keep my facial features blank, hoping that if I don’t show any emotion they’ll give up on the whole charade.
For a few periods, I tried looking as happy as can be. Smiling wide and whistling as I walked. But with no one to even notice, it started to feel ridiculous. So, I resorted back to calm nothingness. Apathy. Indifference.
For as calm as I look outside, inside I am falling apart. Frequently retreating to the bathroom to lock myself away in a stall. It feels better to be truly alone than to be surrounded by people who don’t see me.
After an endless daze of morning classes, it’s finally time for lunch. I’m certain something will happen in the cafeteria. The Elites had pounced on me for merely existing up until now. There’s no way they’ll leave what happened with Emmett unpunished.
At the very least, Emmett’s car is mangled and in his warped mind, it’s my fault. I expect to be punished. The silent build-up has to be part of their plan. Making me wither away in dreaded anticipation before they strike.
In the cafeteria, the bright florescent lights overhead flicker with a horror movie style buzz. I scan the rows of long tables and plastic chairs, ducking between lines of teens carrying their plastic trays. The double doors sway open and shut as more people flood in, each one’s eyes looking everywhere but at me.
I know I can’t eat, but I get lunch anyway, only to sit despondently and shove the food around on my tray with a fork. I guzzle down several bottles of water. Taking in liquids is the one thing I can do right now. I am parched no matter how much I drink.
I feel like an animal on high alert. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion under the gaze of the entire cafeteria. I hear every tiny little noise amplified…someone dropping silverware, the slop of food on someone’s tray, students shuffling in their seats and clearing their throats. People chewing their food and the hiss of opening cans.
It gets to be too much, sending me bolting for the privacy of a bathroom stall yet again to eat alone. I duck into the first stall I can and flick the lock shut.