“Jasmine, the roof? Seriously?!” my mom screeches when Ms. Bree hands me the phone.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m really sorry.”
“Jesus, Jasmine, you’re going to miss the wedding,” she says, her voice breaking. “How could you?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” I must be raising my voice because Ms. Bree shoots me a look on her way out.
No yelling, she mouths.
Sorry, I mouth back.
“Why is it always something?” my mom asks. “Travis and Kayla are going to be so disappointed.”
“We didn’t think we’d—” I stop. “Wait, who cares about Travis and Kayla?”
“What? Get caught? Jesus,” she says. “AndIdo! You should! They care about you!”
“So, you guys are still going to have the wedding? Without me?”
“Seriously, Jasmine? The world can’t stop every time you do something wrong. This is already paid for. It’s happening.”
She sniffles, and I feel my heart squeeze in my chest.
“Well, if you want me to be there, why can’t you just wait until I get home?”
“Because that’s not how life works,” she says. “Actions have consequences.”
“But you were waiting before. Why can’t you just wait a little longer? Do I not matter to you because I made one mistake?!” I press, even though I know what I’m asking isn’t fair.
“You snuck out onto the roof with another girl the night before you were coming home, Jasmine. DoInot matter?!”
Ms. Bree appears in the doorway. “That’s it, wrap it up,” she says.
“I gotta go,” I say, choking back tears. “Have fun with your new family.”
My mom sniffles again, and I almost feel bad enough to apologize. “That’s not very nice, Jasmine,” she says. “I love you.”
I wipe a tear from my face and hang up without responding.
“Did you hang up on your mother?” Ms. Bree asks.
I wipe away another tear and ignore her question.
“You can’t be doing that and expect to get out of here anytime soon,” she says.
“Well, that’s convenient,” I say, “because I’mnotgetting out of here anytime soon.”
21
I wake up early and just stare at the ceiling. I consider turning over and going back to sleep—it’s Saturday, and thankfully, I don’t have anything I need to do. I listen for the usual noise of weekend activities in our house but it’s quiet.
My phone is face down on the nightstand and I hesitate before turning it over. I know that anything anyone has to say after reading Amari’s message can’t be good. I squint at the screen. Two new messages from the group chat.Ugh.
A knot forms in my stomach as I try to decide whether I’m going to open them. On the one hand, I want to see how quickly they’ve moved on. On the other, I almost hope they haven’t, that I matter enough to them to make them angry.
I open the chat. The messages are from Kenny.
At midnight:Has she apologized to anyone?!
