MY LIFE EXISTED in my room while I was suspended. I couldn’t paint. Couldn’t read. Couldn’t bring myself to open my computer or charge and check the dead phone Aiden had brought back from the school where I’d left it in the locker room.
What would be the point?
I was wallflower Rory all over again. The one who didn’t have friends messaging her or plans after school or anything to look forward to other than another day of a bland, vanilla life.
I missed Beckett like he was a limb. Knowing I wouldn’t see his name on my phone again left a hole in my chest. But that was nothing compared to what would happen when I had to face him at school.
His eyes. Those hazel eyes that held a world of understanding and emotion. How would it feel to have them slide over me, wishing he could forget me and what I’d done to him?
Not only had I broken his heart, Aiden told me Beckett had been injured early in the second half—tweaked his wrist again. He’d sat on the bench for the rest of the night, didn’t go out with the team after the game. Not that there was much celebrating to be done now that the Drafters wouldn’t be going to the playoffs or boasting a win over Brentwood Academy. And it was all my fault.
But I couldn’t hide in my room forever under the guise of suspension when what I really suffered from was a broken heart.
No, Thursday I had to go to school and face all my peers as a pariah. Mom drove Aiden and me to school that day, and not a word passed between the three of us, continuing the silent streak between Mom and me.
I stared out the car window and watched people pass by. Watched the school parking lot—and Beckett’s Mercedes—come into view.
Just the sight ripped the pulsing wound in my chest right back open. Aiden’s hand crossed the back seat and squeezed my own.
The corners of my lips lifted. I wished I could tell him how thankful I was to have him, but I couldn’t, not in front of Mom. I squeezed his hand back, then rested my hands in my lap.
Mom put the car in park and cleared her throat. “Rory, Birdie Bardot wants to see you before first period.”
My lips tugged down. “Do I have to?” I really didn’t have the energy for our guidance counselor’s peppy attitude and even perkier outfits.
“You’re lucky to be here at all,” she reminded me stiffly.
“Fine,” I said. One of the handful of words we’d exchanged since Friday night.
My legs still hurt, but I got out of the car and kept pace with Mom and Aiden into the school. There weren’t many people outside, but those who were stared at me. And not in a friendly way. The presence of a teacher at least fended off some rude comments. For now.
Since Mrs. Bardot’s office was near the entrance, I didn’t have to face everyone yet. Mom walked past me to her classroom, and I lifted my hand and knocked on the counselor’s door.
“Come in,” she tittered in a too-cheery voice.
I turned the tarnished silver handle and stepped inside, my eyes landing first on her sitting behind her desk and then on her white bird, Ralphie, swinging happily in his cage.
She looked up from her desk and stood. “Shut the door, will you?” I nodded and closed it behind me, suddenly feeling trapped.
I’d been suspended. Was this a reprimanding session? A threat to behave? Another lecture on the impact of bullying?
“Sit,” she said gently.
Cautiously, I took a seat. Typically, she’d be chatting up a storm about a new bird food recipe she’d tried or how her homegrown tomatoes were doing, or anything really, but today she remained silent.
She took the seat behind her desk and folded her hands. “Rough week?” I nodded, staring at the floor. My eyes stung. “Are we too far into the semester for me to switch to Brentwood Academy?” I was only halfway
joking. My odds were better there than here. I might be a hero there, considering the fact that I’d practically won them the game.
She let out a heavy sigh and folded her hands on the messy desk in front of her. “We all know there’s more than one side to the story, and typically, neither side is entirely faultless. Aurora, I would like you to know that Ms. Alexander was similarly reprimanded by Headmaster Bradford.” Another sigh followed the first. “The Alexanders have negotiated an additional punishment for the two of you, which is keeping you both from expulsion.”
Of course the Alexanders had wielded their power yet again.
“Instead of Friday’s pep rally, we’ll be holding an assembly so both you and Merritt can apologize to Beckett—and each other.”
My throat clenched. Everything about that seemed wrong. Never mind about me. “You’re going to shame him twice?”
“Beckett’s dad has agreed.” “And Beckett?”
She hesitated.
“Had no say,” I finished for her. I needed to find him before tomorrow, to let him know to skip the day before the game. He would hate something like this.
Her expression softened. “You’ve always been a good student, Rory. Your mother and father have done well with you. I’d like to see that streak continue.”
My jaw tightened. Everyone liked the “old” Rory better, but they didn’t understand that she didn’t exist. She was a façade carefully laid of expectations, held together by the mortar of safety and shame.
That was gone now. All that was left was my heart, shattered. Her phone rang, and she said, “You may go.”
