WREN
It’slunchtime the next day, after my fleeing seventh period moment, and I’m approaching a table filled with girls in my senior class. Girls I’ve gone to school with since the beginning of freshman year, but none of them I can really call my friends.
Not anymore.
Oh, we were close when we all first started. I was brand new and a complete novelty to them, though I didn’t see it then. They thought I was cute and stylish, and I reveled in their attention and approval.
It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Approval. To fit in.
Instead, I stood out. As time went on, they eventually became weary of me, and we all grew farther and farther apart. Until they eventually stopped wanting to spend time with me. They’re all still perfectly polite toward me, as I am to them. The only one who truly tolerates me is Maggie, but not as much since the start of our senior year, especially after I saw what happened between her and Fig.
Something that’s never been brought up again, which is fine by me. Maggie hasn’t confirmed it, but I heard recently that she and Franklin are done for good.
That’s probably best. I hope our teacher had nothing to do with their breakup, though deep down, I have a feeling he did.
If only I had actual proof—then I would say something. But I can’t go to anyone with only a suspicion. What if I was wrong?
I startle the girls when I plop down at their table uninvited, but not a one of them actually says anything to me. Instead, they all smile in my direction before resuming their conversations.
I start eating the salad I purchased in the lunch line, eavesdropping on their nonstop chatter. Hoping to hear a tidbit about Crew I could take back to him during psychology class today.
After walking out on him yesterday, he completely ignored me in Honors English earlier. He wasn’t even waiting in his usual spot at the front entrance like he does every day. I actually missed my morning scowl courtesy of Crew Lancaster.
Not that I think he’s always waiting for me, but it sort of feels that way most of the time…
I quietly eat my salad, not really engaging in any of the conversations around me until Lara asks me a direct question.
“What’s up with you and Crew Lancaster?”
I pause in my chewing, the lettuce turning to mush on my tongue. I choke it down, take a sip of water and clear my throat before I answer, “Nothing.”
“Oh. Well, he’s been asking about you.” This comes from Brooke, who is Lara’s best friend.
My fork drops with a clatter into my nearly empty salad bowl. “What do you mean?”
The best friends share a look before Brooke continues.
“He was asking questions about you. About your family. Your past.” She shrugs.
I hate that he was digging for information. Why didn’t he just come to me and ask? “What did you tell him?”
“What could we tell him? We don’t know a lot about you, Wren.” Lara’s tone is a little snotty. She’s always acted like she has an issue with me.
This is why I don’t bother arguing with her.
“Why is he asking about you anyway?” Lara stares me down.
“I don’t know. We’re working on a project together,” I admit. “In psychology. He’s my partner. Skov assigned us.”
“Ahh. I didn’t take that class this year.” Lara actually sounds disappointed.
“Me either. We should’ve, just for the chance to possibly work with Crew,” Brooke says, right before they both start giggling.
I wish I could tell them how God-awful it is working with Crew, but neither of them would believe me, so I keep my mouth shut.
“He is so incredibly sexy,” Brooke says when the giggling has mostly stopped. Lara nods her agreement. “Last summer, I heard he was seeing that one girl who’s TikTok famous, with like a trillion followers. The one who made a movie?”
“Ugh, I remember. She played all coy and never confirmed it, but I swear I saw photos of them together. She’s disgustingly gorgeous. Of course, he dated her.” Lara rolls her eyes before glancing down at herself. “I could be so lucky to be as thin as she is.”