Chapter 23
Harper
| clutch my books closer to my chest, irritated that I have to carry them but my backpack is already full and my locker won’t open. It’s jammed yet again. I hate this school.
The moment Ryan and I arrived this morning, the first person I saw was Easton. He looked right through me, his eyes narrow slits, his lips thin. Aisha approached him and it was as if he forgot all about me, his attention solely focused on her.
She sent me a look that told me she witnessed our little interaction and she wanted to interrupt it on purpose, the catty bitch. I leave them in a huff, my determined steps taking me to my locker, only to discover it wouldn’t open.
Thank God I brought all my books home last night, in the hopes could lose myself in homework. Didn’t happen.
All I could think about was stupid Easton
Didn’t help that he sent me a friend request on Instagram and like the pathetic loser he always reminds me that I am, I accepted it without hesitation. And then I went and
followed his profile, which is public. No surprise.
When he direct messaged me, I almost fell off the bed. At first, he acted like he was into me, and despite everything that’s happened between us, the miniscule good and the overwhelmingly bad, I thought maybe he was going to confess his real feelings.
Then he made it seem like all he wanted was a sneaky hookup here and there, and I was disgusted. More with myself than him.
This is why I can’t get my hopes up. Easton will always bring them crashing down
I walk into my first period classroom early and collapse into my desk, dropping the books I’m carrying with a loud thump. I suppose I could go to the front office and complain about my Wocker. They’d write me an excuse for being late so it’s not like it would be a big deal.
I’m about to get back up when Sadie darts into my classroom, her eyes wide, her expression downright frantic.
“Oh my God, there you are! Are you okay?” she asks, her words so fast they practically trip over themselves.
I frown. “What are you talking
about?”
“You didn’t see your locker?” Her frown matches mine.
I slowly shake my head, confused. “I went to it earlier, but I couldn’t open it. That’s why I’m carrying my books.” I wave a hand at the stack in front of me.
“Oh shit.” She glances around the room before her gaze returns to mine. “Come with me.”
I follow her out of the classroom, leaving my books but taking my backpack with me. We head for my locker, which is surrounded by a small group of people. As I draw closer, I can hear whispers and
laughter. Snippets of conversation.
“..she wishes.” is what I hear someone say
That someone is Aisha.
It’s only four letters written in bold black spray paint across my faded gray locker door. But the word penetrates my heart and nearly makes me crumple.
SLUT!
They even used an exclamation point.
No one says anything, but I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I refuse to give them one. I’m on the verge of tears in an
instant but I suck them up. No way can I cry in front of these people. That’s what they want.
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