“Leave your exams on my desk,” Wilson says. “And make sure you finish your homework before the next class.”
“Come on, bro,” Timothy says to me, rapping his knuckles on my desk.
“Yeah,” I slide up out of my chair and grab my shoulder bag. It’s lunchtime at Crescent Academy, and I’m ready to get out of the classrooms for a little while. We walk past Emilia, who is still staring at her exam blankly.
“Miss Riley,” Mr. Wilson calls out. “Your exam? Please.”
She gives me a look as I walk by. There’s so much contained in that look: pain, remorse, devastation. I realize that by screwing up this test, her grade in the class is going to suffer. Oh, if she worked hard enough, I’m sure she could bring it up again before the end of the semester. Besides, she could always do what the other female students do and offer something for extra credit.
Mr. Wilson is many things, but a stand-up guy?
Not so much.
Too bad Emilia is the kind of girl who will let her morals get in the way of her grades. That’s going to be her downfall. A smidge of remorse tries to wrestle its way into my heart when I see just how totally devastated she is, but I push it away.
No.
I won’t feel sad.
Not for Emilia Riley.
She deserves to suffer just like she’s made my family suffer.
She deserves to feel half of the pain my family has felt as a result of what her father did. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just as guilty as he is, and I will never, ever forgive Emilia.
“Bro,” Timothy says again from the doorway. “Coming or not?”
I realize I’m standing by Emilia’s desk and I’m just staring at her. Shaking my head, I hurry up and leave the classroom. I need to get some food in me.
I need to stop thinking about Emilia.
Emilia
“IT’S NOT THAT BAD,” Karen says.
“Yeah,” Adalee agrees. She picks at a green bean, examining it before she hesitantly pops it in her mouth. She chews slowly, making faces, before she finally swallows. She’s always hated vegetables, but she’s on a health kick and is trying to convince herself they aren’t so bad.
They totally are.
“How is it not that bad?” I ask, shaking my head. “The entire school saw me. They almost saw my underwear!”
Granted, it could have been worse. The picture could have been something really incriminating. It could have been a nude photo or a nip slip or something awful. It wasn’t, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s still completely humiliating.
“I mean, everyone kind of saw it happen in the first place,” Karen points out. “You fell on the first day of school. It was in front of everyone.”
“Not everyone!” I blush furiously. “I mean, the new freshmen didn’t see me. Not everyone saw...”
They certainly have now.
“Look, there’s nothing you can do a
bout it,” Karen tells me. “And almost doesn’t really count. Nobody saw your panties. I have no idea how you managed to fall so gracefully,” she shakes her head, as though that’s some sort of compliment.
Adalee picks at another green bean. I have the sudden urge to grab one and shove it in her mouth, then pinch her nose until she swallows. She’s being ridiculous. Then again, maybe I’m just in a terrible mood.
I can’t imagine why.
“I can talk to the principal,” I point out. “I can tell him who took the picture and who uploaded it.”