I drift off as Mr. Chui talks about balanced and unbalanced forces. I think about me and Blythe. He draws a boulder on the board. A little stick person pushes the rock on one side and another stick person pushes the rock on the other. I remember how Blythe squeezed my wrist at the dance. How she wouldn’t let me go. And how I jerked away from her. My force, greater than hers. I always thought she was stronger. Blythe Jensen the mighty.
But it was me. I was the one. I had more strength than she did after all.
* * *
Sammi meets me at my locker before lunch. I get weepy when I see her. Like when I was a kid and I’d fall on the playground. I’d brush myself off. Hold back the tears. Pick the gravel out of my knee. Until my mother came, her worried face asking what happened, and I’d crumple in her arms.
“No, no, no. Don’t fall apart now,” Sammi says, wiping tears away. “You’re a warrior. A goddess. Look what you did.” She strokes my hair, brings me close to her. My face wet. The shoulder of her T-shirt soaked. “Look how many girls are going to look up to you. Look at what you opened up here. You outed him, dude. You’re a fucking legend. Don’t you feel so good? So strong?”
And I do feel it. As scared as I am, I can feel it. But I’m hesitant. “I’m not really there yet,” I say. It’s not about Sean Nessel. He’s not the one I’m worried about. It’s about her.
Because I know the blowback from Blythe is coming.
45
BLYTHE
This isn’t even about Sean. This is about outing the C-wing bathroom and ruining our safe space. This is about calling me out as the girl who tried to persuade her not to tell. Wasn’t I more than that? Wasn’t I her friend? For all I’ve done for her.
This is going to be an exercise of public humiliation.
The game is: Like. Dislike. Rate.
Cate posts a photo of Donnie in her stories and over her face it says this:
Like: your reactions and emotions hahaha and you’re, like, one of my besties and I lover you.
Dislike: nothing, of course
Rate: 378645272
Then she posts a picture of Ali and over her face it says this:
Like: the way you blow smoke rings because you have such a round mouth, good for sucking (lol lol)
Dislike: what a liar you are.
Rate: -4
A few hours later she deletes it. Then something new. A photo of Ali with the word LIAR over it. Then another photo from another account. USER.
A fourth photo. Of the article. The text reads: WHEN YOU STAB YOUR BFF IN THE BACK.
A fifth photo of the article. WHEN YOU FLAT-OUT LIE.
Donnie opens another account. Calls it “Greenleaf the Stalker.” She posts endless photos of dead birds in black-and-white. Donnie thinks it adds a goth touch. She says it’s a work of art. She tags Ali over and over.
It makes me uncomfortable. I can hear Ali’s voice in my head. What’s wrong with you? How could you?
I tell this to Donnie. That it’s enough already with the dead birds.
“You’re a fucking loser, Jensen,” she says. “What we are doing to this girl is nothing compared to what she did to you. Did you see how many people read that thing? What she did to you is going to stick. Do you understand that? You’re always going to be the girl who tried to get her not to tell. What we’re doing to her is run-of-the-mill harassment. She can delete it. She can stop going on Instagram. It’s dead birds. It could be so much worse, and you know it. She doesn’t even have to see it. But she’ll know about it. Because people will tell her. And she deserves to be uncomfortable. She deserves a little prodding. That’s all this is. Don’t think of it any deeper than that.”
I have to keep reminding myself that. It’s not deep. It’s just a little bit of a lashing. That she brought this on herself. That she didn’t have to involve me at all.
I hate feeling so conflicted. I’m not used to feeling so conflicted. I’d usually run to Dev, snuggle in to him. Listen to him tell me that everything is okay, even if it’s robotic, even if it’s a line he learned to say. But now I don’t have Dev. I’ve lost him too.
* * *
This goes on for a few days. I keep waiting to hear something from Ali. I wait for her to text me to make it stop. But nothing. Not one thing. Not one apology. Not one I wish you would understand. Not even a mention about Dev, which I know she must have heard about. I see her in the hall, and she looks down. Refuses to even acknowledge that I’m there.
And it makes me want to strangle her. I used to think that her coldness had to do with what happened to her. But now I see that’s just who she is. A cold bitch. Uncaring. Self-centered.
I want to make her squirm. I see her in the hallway and stare at her. Walking with Sammi and Raj like they’re so tight. Like I ruined her life. Me.
* * *
A few days later, Suki makes a hate page. She’s only going to leave it up for six hours. Not long enough for Instagram to flag it. They usually take forty-eight hours to take something down and send out a warning. Someone might snap a screenshot
