A familiar body eased into the seat next to me and I flinched. Did he know? Had he heard? Holy crap. Of course he’d heard. His best friend just gave me a onceover in the hallway. The question was how.
Anderson and I had always been friendly, but our relationship was based on snarky jabs and constant put-downs. We’re both good students, although his seems to be more about genetic superiority and mine hard work and a lack of a social life.
His circle of friends, guy friends, was tight and pretty popular but they mostly keep to themselves. Jackson Hall. Hayden Pierce. Oliver Baldwin and then Anderson Thompson. They were close. Super close, and no girl had ever broken into their ranks. Many tried. All failed. They seemed more interested in each other than in the opposite sex.
The boys and I had shared classes since grade school and I had harbored a crush on all of them, Anderson in particular, for a long time. Fine. Years. I knew it was useless. They didn’t seem to date. The Allendale Four went to dances and stuff, but increasingly I suspected none of the girls were up to their standards. Smart.
If I were them, I would wait until college and not tie myself down to one of the Stage Five Clingers looking for a way out of this place.
Class started and much to my relief, Mr. Baker turned on a film. I took the opportunity to pull out my pen and write a note.
Jackson Hall just checked me out.
I pushed the paper in Anderson’s direction. He looked at the paper. Then at the movie. Then at me and blinked. When he got back to the paper, he wrote quickly.
What?
Was that unclear? He ogled me.
Anderson smirked at that one and scribbled on the paper.
Jackson’s a pervert. He’s always staring at pretty girls.
Wait, what? Pretty? Nope. No. I ignored that jab. I sighed and tapped my pen on the table before replying.
Everyone is treating me weird. What’s going on? Be honest.
Anderson placed his pen on the table and slipped his hand in his back pocket. I felt my forehead crease as I tried to figure out what he was doing. After a second, he pulled out his iPhone.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, looking around to make sure no one could see us. Phones were not allowed out at school.
He ignored me. I watched as his long, graceful fingers moved quickly over the screen. His silly hair was all in his eyes and from this angle his jaw was sharp and strong and—
He handed me the phone under the table. It was open to his social media page, to a photo of me. In the image, my fingers were gripping Justin’s shirt and I was smiling up at him. We looked happy. Even in love, to the outside viewer. It was sweet but didn’t show anything. What was the big deal? But I knew. They heard the rumors.
“So,” I mouthed. I could feel the heat burn into my cheeks.
He motioned for me to scroll through the photos. I did and felt the heat burn into my cheeks and my stomach dropped. The images had taken a life of their own. Before and after photos tagged with my virginity status. Little graphics of hearts and stars. Questions about me in bed. What Justin liked.
What I liked.
Oh god.
The whole thing had gone wrong and according to the ticker at the bottom, viral. My chest constricted and my lungs froze. I wasn’t sure if I could breathe. I pushed the phone back to Anderson and tried desperately to pull air into my lungs.
He shrugged, unaware of my panic, and took his phone back. He slipped it in his pocket. I focused back on the front of the room. On the desk. On anything, trying to keep calm.
I mean, the plan worked. Justin and I tricked everyone. Just not only the kids at his school, but mine too. Mission accomplished. Why was I freaking out? Did it matter? Do I even matter?
History said no.
The movie ended and right before Mr. Baker turned on the lights, Anderson leaned over and said, “If people are noticing you, I guess that’s why. They look at you differently now.”
I didn’t care about people. Not most of them. The one that really mattered was sitting next to me. The other was down in Oceanside not getting harassed in the locker room. I found the paper we had written on before, scribbled a note and slid it across the smooth tabletop.
Do you?
Just then the bell rang and Anderson stood, taking the paper and balling it into his fist and shoving it into his pocket. I realized he wasn’t going to answer and I said, “Anderson, do you think differently about me?”