Part 6 (2/2)
Later, when she's dropping off me at the apartment, I swing my legs out of the car, but I turn back to face her. ”She still loves him, you know?” I confide.
Mich.e.l.le nods, unsurprised. ”And he still loves her. But, sometimes, it isn't enough. Sometimes you have to ask yourself if the person you're with makes you happy enough to forgive the misery they've caused.”
Johnny, eyes full of apologies...
Acid boils in my stomach. I step out of the car onto the sidewalk. ”Some things can't be forgiven,” I say bitterly.
Chapter 7.
I wish I could say I spent the weekend in an empowered state of mind, but I would be totally lying. I spend all of Sat.u.r.day singing songs about love and heartbreak, at the top of my lungs, while crying my eyes out. I freak my dad out so bad that he locks himself in his room for the rest of the night. I also have to physically restrain myself from going to Johnny's online profile, and checking to see if Laundry Room Girl is on his friends list. Instead of giving in to that dumb urge, I unfriend him. I'm not going to stalk him online-I'm going to try my hardest not to, anyway.
Sunday is awful. Johnny breaks my heart over and over again by refusing to leave me alone once I'm back from my dad's. He camps out on my front porch and says he won't budge until I forgive him. He's drunk. I have to call Nick and Mack to come get him before the police show up. It's completely mortifying. He shouts my name over and over as they drag him away. Part of me cringes at the angst and the drama-the bigger part of me is like, ”Yeah, your a.s.s better be out there screaming my name!” I am so twisted.
I honestly don't know how I'm going to handle seeing him at school tomorrow. It's going to hurt, and it's going to suck.
I cannot go to school today-there are rabid bats loose in my stomach. I'm going to be sick.
My phone starts jangling with Heather's kooky ringtone. I reluctantly reach for it.
”Get your a.s.s out of bed!” she bellows before I can say a word.
”No!” I snap, throwing my blanket over my head. ”I have to stay home. Something's wrong with me.”
”Yeah, you're a big baby. You're going.”
”I'm not.”
”Don't make me come over there and drag you out by your hair,” Heather threatens. ”Come on, Juliet! Have some pride.”
”Ugh!” I flip the covers off of me. ”Fine! I'm getting up. Happy?”
”Thrilled.” Her cheerful laughter makes me want to stab something. ”Text me later, 'kay?”
”Sure. Have a terrible day at school.”
”Back at you. Love you!”
”Gr.”
I hate when she's right. I stumble into bed and head straight for the shower. I love my showers. I could stand there all day, shutting out the rest of the world. I don't even care if I get all prune-y.
Finally, reluctantly, I get out and dry off. I stand in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door, and stare resolutely at my reflection.
”You're single now,” I tell myself. ”But that's okay-you've been single for most of your life. You'll be fine. But why did you have to change schools, you stupid, stupid cow?”
I smack my forehead into the gla.s.s for good measure, and then I have to laugh at myself through the pain. I was so looking forward to this day, and now...I just want it to be over with.
I choose pretty underwear, just because. The Leclare uniform is actually cute. Since it's warm weather, I have a choice between the polo s.h.i.+rt and the s.h.i.+rt and blazer. I slip on the blue polo with the Leclare crest, and the pleated charcoal gray skirt that goes with it. It looks good on me, and I'm relieved. I pull my hair back with a hair band, and put on a little more makeup than usual. Depending on how I apply it, I can either be the picture of innocence, or the s.l.u.tty school girl. I go for the s.l.u.tty school girl. It could be a mistake. Yeah, it's probably a mistake, but it's too late now.
I'm unlocking my car door when Nick's Range Rover pulls up. He parks at the curb, and the pa.s.senger window slides down, revealing Mack's smiling face. His ma.s.sive frame seems a little squished in the front seat.
”What up, Juliet!” he calls out. ”Your chariot awaits!”
”What?” Laughing, I walk over to the car. ”What are you guys doing here?”
Nick gets out of the driver's side, and jogs around to me. He looks good in his uniform-very hot rich boy in the polo s.h.i.+rt and gray slacks.
”We're here to give you a ride,” he says, holding the backseat door open for me. He flashes his little boy grin at me. ”Good morning, Juliet.”
”Thanks, but I don't need a ride. I have a car.” I gesture to my reliable little Nissan.
”It's your first day at Leclare, girl. You need to arrive in style,” Mack declares. He pats the outside of the door for emphasis.
I look from him to Nick, eyes narrowed in suspicion. ”Did Johnny put you guys up to this?”
”No-” Nick starts to deny, but Mack cuts him off with a snort.
”Johnny hooked up with Jack Daniels last night, and now he has morning-after regrets. Dude can't say anything but, 'opletely surprised. ”Why would he care?”
”I think he felt bad about Friday, you know? We all do.” Nick looks down at the ground, shrugging uncomfortably. ”He would've come himself, but he had an early morning meeting with Coach.”
Dean felt bad? Dean has feelings? Confused, I slide into the backseat without another word. Truthfully, I'm relieved to have these two in my corner. Suddenly, my first day doesn't seem so daunting, not with Nick and Mack around.
”Hey, I was thinking about you last night,” Mack says, half-turning in his seat to look at me.
”You were?” I raise my eyebrows.
”Not like that! Actually, my stomach was thinking about that awesome-what did you call it? The thing with the tortillas, and eggs, and salsa. You made it for us once? It was so good.”
I settle back against the comfortable leather seat, smiling. ”The Mexican lasagna?”
”Yeah! Man, I was drooling, picturing it last night.”
”That's what you were thinking about?” Nick chuckles, slipping on his sungla.s.ses. ”Thank G.o.d. You were looking in my direction with this dopey a.s.s grin on your face...I thought you were gonna start buying me flowers and s.h.i.+t.”
Big Mack laughs along with him-just for a few seconds. Then his face turns to stone, and his puppy dog eyes turn into a mad dog glare.
”That's not funny.”
Nick winces. ”Kidding, dude.”
”I could make you another one,” I say from the backseat. ”Anytime. I love cooking for you guys.”
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