My mind would usually be scrambling by this point. Spinning on an endless loop, but in between the nothingness, all I can manage is the one thought.
How did we screw ourselves up this bad?
“Here,” he says. Reaching into his bag and pulling out the required blazer he never wore. “You’re going to freeze out here without one.” Shoving the navy jacket into my hands and walking away before I can argue.
I squeeze it to my chest. Refusing to believe it means anything more than it should.
I wish I could say the same for everything else.
twenty-five
Rory
WhenIwalkintoKPA, I feel for the first time the weighted pressure of the stares. Students are all around, but it’s the whispers that get to me.
My skin buzzes with awareness, hyperaware of everyone.
Before, it was something I always knew was there, but I chose to ignore it. Now it’s like everyone knows what happened outside.
It isn’t until I’m about halfway down the hall that I understand. It’s a laugh that first draws my attention. The random student’s head arching back, the piece of paper in their hand lifting with it.
Glancing around, I spot similar ones. They’re everywhere. Brightly colored sheets of paper are plastered to every locker, wall, and ceiling.
In a frenzy, I yank one out of another student’s hand. My pace slows as I scan the words. The stupid, dumb, cruel information.
My head snaps up, and the paper crumbles further in my grip at what’s before me. The strength I have wrapped around this flimsy thing, a nothingness for the person I’m imagining it is.
The life-size version of what’s printed in my hand. The disgrace oversized as it hangs concealed behind the trophy case. Mocking the entire female student body.
I move in a blind rage, already knowing who did this. There could only ever be one person that would be this cruel.
This unsettled in the head.
“Montgomery, you got a lot of nerve,” I bark.
Her mouth lifts, tugging into a satisfied smirk. Not even attempting to try and hide that this is her doing.
She’s more demented in the head than I thought.
“What, don’t tell me you’re mad because you didn’t make the first-round pick.” She’s being evasive. I’m not on the list at all. Madison is smart enough to know who’d come after her if she did.
Still, that’s not an excuse to do the same to others.
“You think this is funny?”
Her bottom lip juts out in a faux pout. “There’s always next time.”
My stomach fills with lava when she has the audacity to pretend to be sympathetic. Like she isn’t aware that the case that once held all the school’s glowing achievements is now replaced with a makeshift bracket.
Grouping girls against one another and listing them off like they are some sort of vote on a ballot.
“It’s basketball season. I’m just trying to show my support.”
Bile coats my tongue. “You thinkthisis being supportive? Ranking innocent girls to be voted biggest slut? Are you a misogynist?”
I don’t know who she got to help with this job. It’s way too big for a single person, but whoever it is, their names are about to meet mine. Fist and knuckles.
I push up my sleeve. Iceman’s blazer too large on my frame even after I’ve attempted to roll up the sleeves. It swallows me, hitting me midthigh.