Page 66 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

“Kaitlyn,” Ms. Dorman says, finally engaging. “We’ve had this conversation before. We don’t need to have it now.”

“Oh, I think we do,” Kaitlyn seethes. “Because you will let a mid baseball team miss every fucking class, but when the literal national champion volleyball team dares to miss a single period—”

“Kaitlyn,” Ms. Dorman says. “We discussed this. It wasn’t—”

Kaitlyn turns to look at me. “We let men be mediocre, Avery. We let them fail all the way to the fucking top, and we’re the ones who suffer for it. When Caulder and the rest of the baseball team’s raking in scholarships for D1 because the school fought to bring scouts to their games and practices, my team will be struggling to get anything.”

“Kaitlyn, you’ve already had offers—”

“My team, Dorman!” Kaitlyn snaps, throwing the blanket aside as she stands up. “Because unlike you, I’m not just looking out for myself. It’s my team that you’re constantly throwing under the bus.”

Ms. Dorman’s eyes narrow. “You and ‘your team’ are tardy almost every single day. It’s not my fault you haven’t kept your grades—”

“Oh, but it is,” she says. “You all fall over yourselves to make exceptions for the male athletes. But what about us? What about us, Dorman?”

“I have always treated my students fairly,” Ms. Dorman says, gaze flitting to meet mine. “Every single one of them.”

Kaitlyn snorts. “Sure you do, Dormy. What about the other teachers? Do you stand up for us to them?”

“I can’t control my colleagues,” she says.

“And when I was literally pushed down the stairs on camera, what then? What fucking then?”

The air is heavy. Ms. Dorman doesn’t answer. Won’t answer.

“What about letting a fucking predator into the school?” Kaitlyn asks, her voice even colder. “How about that? Or did you not think that was worth noting? You’re on the hiring committee, aren’t you?”

At this, Ms. Dorman looks legitimately shocked. Her face pales, and her eyes widen. She stares at Kaitlyn as if completely confused, and then sets her can down on the side table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ms. Dorman says. “Mr. McCullough is not—”

“I’m not talking about him, am I?” Kaitlyn says.

And of course, now I realize what she’s saying.

What she’s talking about.

“Mr. Jay,” I say. “But how—?”

“He dated my sister,” Kaitlyn says, eyes fixed on Ms. Dorman. “Let everyone think he was some wonderful boyfriend. And then, at a party, he raped her. Before she could come forward, he spun a narrative that she was some jealous, crazy bitch to wreck her reputation and make sure no one would ever believe her. I had to watch my older sister fall apart for years after because of that piece of shit.”

Ms. Dorman’s eyes are wide as Kaitlyn continues.

“He made everyone in the school believe they broke up because she was crazy,” she continues. “No one even knew what he did, but everyone saw my sister ‘lose it.’ And no one thought to get her side of the story. No one thought that maybe that asshole was the problem.”

“Kaitlyn,” Ms. Dorman says. “I had no idea about Hadley—”

“Liar,” Kaitlyn says. “She was your student. You saw them together every day, and then you watched her world explode.”

Kaitlyn laughs, cold and rough. “And then you let him come back and teach. You let him around your students. You fed us to a fucking wolf.”

Now Ms. Dorman truly looks like a sheet, like all the blood has been drained from her face.

“I swear,” she says. “This is all news to me. I would never, ever let that happen, Kaitlyn. But if you—”

Kaitlyn laughs, this time a sound so high and startling it pierces the air. And she keeps laughing, freezing Ms. Dorman and me in place until she stops and leans forward, blond braid swishing against her back.

“I didn’t touch that asshole,” she says. “If I had, he would’ve looked far worse.”