I knew Cerina planted the drugs and made the call to the police. When they raided my locker to find nothing but pens and books, I spotted her in the hall a few yards away, arms folded and eyes narrowed. Clearly, she’d hoped for things to go differently… and they very nearly did. If I hadn’t left my math class early that day, I’d probably be sitting in jail right now.
Overall, the bullying had gotten so bad that I’d reached a point where I was too scared to step foot onto campus without Erin by my side, because the worst incidents always happened when I was alone. Every morning, I hung out by the wrought iron gate at the front of the school, waiting for her car to pull up so we could head in together.
Right now, I was doing exactly that, shivering in the chilly fall wind as I lingered by the gate. I glanced at my watch, smothering a yawn.Weird.Erin was usually here by now.
Tendrils of anxiety started to creep in, wrapping around my guts and sliding up my throat. What if she didn’t come to school today? What if the bullies had finally gotten to her, and she’d changed her mind about wanting to hang out with me?
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I swallowed the hard lump of fear in my throat and unlocked the screen to see an email from [email protected]
Hey, sorry to randomly email you like we’re business colleagues haha. There’s something wrong with my phone so I couldn’t text you. Anyway, I woke up with the worst migraine of my life. Like, I can barely even look at this screen right now - the light hurts my eyes so bad. It’s so painful that I don’t think I’ll be able to come in today at all. Maybe even tomorrow as well. I’m so sorry, I know you hate being there alone :(
Anyway, I have a little gift for you. Hopefully it’ll cheer you up a bit and make things a little easier for you to stomach! I made it last night before this shitty headache showed up. Mom gave it to the girl next door (Shiri Warner) to pass on to you at school. Don’t worry, Shiri is cool, so she won’t be a bitch to you (hopefully anyway…)
I’ll email you again later to see how your day is going. For now, I’m going back to bed with an icepack for my head… ugghhhh. Wish me luck please…
Love you! - E xoxoxox
With a sigh, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and trudged through the gate.
Please, can I just have one normal day?I begged the universe. I had a feeling the universe would deny my request, but a girl could dream, right?
A few people glared at me when I walked through the main hallway, but no one threw anything in my direction or openly hurled abuse at me, so I counted that as a win. When I reached my locker, I noticed it was suspiciously clean. Perhaps my fellow students had finally grown tired of spray-painting ‘WHORE’ on it five times a day.
I stashed my bag and grabbed my English textbook and notes. When I turned around, a sullen-looking girl with curly auburn hair was standing behind me.
“Hey,” she said flatly, holding up a purple gift bag. “Erin made these for you. She can’t come in for some reason so she asked me to give them to you.”
“Oh. Thank you. You’re Shiri, right?” I said as I accepted the bag.
“Yeah.” Shiri quickly glanced around, presumably to ensure that no one had spotted her talking to me, because that would be social suicide for her. She looked back at me and gave me a faint smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spit on it or anything. Anyway, see you later, I guess.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” I smiled and lifted my free hand in a casual wave as she turned away. Then I returned my attention to the gift bag. A small card was attached to the handle with a note scrawled inside.
I know how much you love snickerdoodles! Hope they brighten your day a bit. Erin xox
I opened the bag and peered inside. It contained a stack of heart-shaped cookies wrapped up in a bow. Erin had remembered correctly—snickerdoodles were my absolute favorite.
I untied the bow, grabbed a cookie, and took a big bite. My nose wrinkled as I chewed. Erin had used far too much cinnamon in the cookies, and the texture was a bit strange. Almost chalky. She must have used oat flour or rice flour instead of the usual wheat flour. I wasn’t going to message her and complain, though. Making the cookies for me was a lovely gesture, and I really appreciated the effort she’d made to bring a little sunshine to my otherwise gloomy existence.
The bell rang, so I quickly finished the last few bites of my cookie and stashed the rest in my locker. Then I headed to my English class and took my usual seat in the middle row. Alone, naturally. No one wanted to be seen sitting with the social leper.
Mr. Blythe started the class with a YouTube clip of a literary critic giving her opinion on a short story we read last week. After it was finished, he switched off the screen at the front and stood.
“Okay, everyone, listen up,” he said, casually leaning against his desk. “In the video, we heard Ms. Sharma stating that one of the takeaways from The Husband Stitch is this: ‘To be a woman in this world is to be distrusted and disbelieved. To have every experience questioned, picked apart, and disregarded’. I’m going to give you the next thirty minutes to quietly reflect on that statement and write a page about it. Don’t worry, this won’t be graded. I’m just interested in your thoughts.”
I put my head down and worked quietly. Twenty minutes later, my short essay was complete. I leaned back and blew out a deep breath, flexing my hands to get rid of the minor cramps in my fingers. I always got them when I wrote too fast.
I was about to proofread my paper when my phone vibrated in my blazer pocket. I surreptitiously pulled it out and checked it under the desk. Mr. Blythe was pretty lenient about students having phones in his class—unlike some teachers who made us stash them in a lockbox before the period started—but we still weren’t supposed to use them unless it was an emergency.
A text from Erin sat in my notifications tab.Whew, what a fucking morning. So sorry I missed walking in with you. I’ll probably miss the whole first period, but I’ll get there eventually.
I tapped out a quick response.Your head is better already? That’s awesome. Thanks so much for the cookies, btw! Totally forgot to say that earlier because the bell rang.
Erin replied immediately.My head? What do you mean? Lol. Also, what cookies?
Confused, I sent her a screenshot of the email she sent me before first period started. Three dots appeared on the screen right away, letting me know she was typing again. When her lengthy reply finally showed up, a cold sensation slithered down my spine, as if someone were holding an ice cube at the nape of my neck.
I don’t know what’s going on but that wasn’t me. My email [email protected] one that messaged you has an extra ‘n’ in it. See?? Also, Shiri Warner doesn’t live anywhere near me, and I don’t have a migraine – I’m late because some asshole slashed two of my tires. I don’t have any spares so I’m waiting for the mobile mechanic to show up and fix it. I would’ve texted you earlier but I couldn’t find my phone. I must’ve dropped it outside when I walked the dog with mom earlier, because the neighbor knocked on my door a minute ago and said he found it sitting on the pavement. Although now I’m starting to think that’s not a coincidence….