“I think her name’s Ellie,” I hear someone say behind me.
“I didn’t know she had it in her,” someone else replies.
That makes two of us.
CHAPTER 5
Almost seventeen hours have passed since the globe-kicking incident and it is more than safe to say I am still angry. I know this because my mom volunteered to drive me to school this morning, and instead of being grateful I don’t have to walk through another pouring rainstorm, I’m annoyed that she had to interrupt my stewing time. I have yet to tell my parents about the breakup or the resulting papier-mâché carnage.
So of course my mom’s all, “Are you okay, love?” as we get in the car.
“I’m fine,” I say, studying the chipping “Pink Pearl” nail polish on my left hand. When I made the globe, I’d pretty much destroyed the manicure I had given myself at Jodie’s house. At the time, I thought it was for a noble cause. Now the globe is a pile of paste and painted newspaper strips wadded under a bush somewhere, and my nails look pathetic for no reason at all.
“Don’t lie, El,” my mom says as she starts the car. When I don’t say anything she adds, “You’ve come home the past two days and locked yourself in your room. And then I heard you raising your voice on the phone last night at Jodie. That’s not like you.”
I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid my parents forever. The night of the breakup, I’d come home from work and declared I was too tired for dinner and went straight to my room. Last night, I scarfed down my dad’s famous macaroni and cheese, and then ran to my room to call Jodie, where I filled her in on the day’s events, my voice getting higher and higher with every detail.
“I wasn’t raising my voice at Jodie.” I pray the tears don’t come. I’d been so outraged the past half day that crying was the last thing on my mind. It was nice to not have puffy, bloodshot eyes for a bit. “Hunter and I broke up.”
There, it’s out. And she can’t question me too much because we’re literally a three-minute ride to school and she knows I can’t be late for homeroom. Hopefully, she’ll forget all about this by the time I get—
“Oh, honey,” Mom says, turning the car off. She turns in her seat and places her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. I need to play this well. I can’t have her know she was right about Hunter, and I also don’t want her and Dad worried about me. They have enough on their plate right now. “I’m doing all right. It’s an adjustment.”
“Would it be prying to ask what happened?”
“We were just growing apart,” I say flatly, silently willing her to start the car again.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says and, to her credit, she does sound sorry. “I want us to talk about this later, if you’re up for it. We can have ice cream for dinner and watch that show you love about weather disasters?”
Oh god, Mom, I think, as I stare out the window fighting back tears for real now. Stop being so nice to me. It’ll just make me cry more.
“That sounds good,” I say, glad my voice doesn’t break.
Mom squeezes my shoulder before she finally starts the car. It’s the longest three minutes of my life before I can say goodbye to her and hurry into school, where I can hopefully break down behind the closed door of a bathroom stall.
A group of students is gathered by the main door when I come in. They suddenly fall quiet and stare at me as I pass, then start whispering when I’m a few feet away.
“That’s her!” I hear one girl hiss. “She’s the one who freaked out yesterday.”
“That explains it,” a guy says. “She’s like the one girl in the senior class I don’t know.”
Of course you don’t know me, I think. It’s not like anyone was particularly friendly toward me when I first started here.
Except Hunter. And Alisha.
I think of Alisha then and wonder if she truly is on Hunter and Brynn’s side, since she tried to warn me about the Cold Fish thing before Kim whisked her off. But then again, she hasn’t tried to contact me or seek me out, so maybe she heard about the globe-kicking and thinks I’m a raging psycho or something.
I remember The Buzz, then, and wonder if my globe-kicking is a featured item. I head to the library, where I plug in my phone and load it up. A GIF of a glittery marijuana leaf is at the top of the feed.
HIGH TIMES
This smarty-pants wants everyone to think she’s Miss Innocent, but our sources report seeing her smoking weed at the beach this summer. Multiple times.
I wince. I think this might be Anna Feldman, who’s in competition with Kim for number one in our class, and who I’ve been secretly rooting for to keep Kim from being valedictorian in June.
This is followed by a GIF of an old TV show, where two girls and a guy are embracing, all smiling.
TEAM TRYST
This athletic trio is quite the threesome. They were spotted at a team party disappearing into a bedroom together with multiple reports of endless groans and moans coming from behind closed doors. Now we’re wondering who finished first, second, and third?
Yikes. Maybe there’s so much gossip grist from the RHHS rumor mill that my outburst yesterday was …
THE KICK HEARD ROUND THE WORLD (OR AT LEAST THE SENIOR PARKING LOT)
This new couple had their smooch sesh quashed when a certain cold fish-turned-woman-scorned let her rage be known with a swift kick. Maybe someone should’ve told her this union was in the works for quite some time?
Wait, what? I feel the blood pounding in my temples as I
