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“Well, tough luck, because I’m staying. You should want me to.” Ryan laughed. “So I could tell you when Adam finally gets lucky and fu—”
Ryan did not, in fact, get to finish this sentence.
Alex punched him square in the nose.
Ryan staggered, hitting the couch and falling on top of it, holding his nose. There was blood. So much blood. It was the first time I witnessed someone getting punched like that. Weirdly enough, everyone kind of stood there, almost loitering, staring at the scene quietly, no one making a move either way.
Alex walked over to Ryan. He was seething, buzzing with energy I had never seen on him before. He wore it like a crown. A formidable, quiet rage.
He stared down at Ryan.
“You’re out of the band. And you’re out of my life. Spread one more rumor about my girlfriend and I’ll make sure your nose is the least of your worries, asshole.”
I learned a very important lesson after what happened with Ryan.
It was a good lesson to learn, especially at that age.
You cannot strong-arm people into doing things. Even if those things were something as simple as not spreading lies to make themselves look better.
Was I a perfect friend to Ryan? No. Absolutely not.
Was I cheater, a flirt, a girl who was out for attention? Also no.
The truth is always in-between, in the gray area. Most ordinary people are not completely good, or completely bad. They’re just…people.
Two weeks after that gig, after it was all done and dealt with, after Ryan got the royal boot from the band, and had been gone from school for three consecutive days, I walked through the school gates.
Paulina greeted me at the entrance, shoving me back with all her might, her face pale with panic.
“No. You can’t go in there. Come with me.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me to a coffee shop across the street. I stumbled all over my feet, trying to catch her brisk steps—and my breath.
“What’s going on?” I asked sleepily. I tried filing through the different reasons for me to get in trouble, and came up empty-handed. For all my need to look rebellious and edgy, I was about as risqué as extra-soft tissue paper. There was that one time a hottie senior jock set the gymnasium on fire and I witnessed the whole thing and kept my mouth shut, but that happened when I was a freshman. He no longer went to this school, and besides all that, half the freaking school basically saw him do it. What else could I get in trouble for?
“You’re in deep shit, missy. Like, knee-deep.” Paulina flung her blonde hair to one shoulder. She did not mince words, that one.
Pauly planted my ass on a seat outside the coffee shop, went inside, got us two iced coffees, and shoved one in my hand.
“Drink. You’re going to need liquid courage to get into school after I’m done filling you in.”
“I think liquid courage is more, like, alcohol and stuff.” I sucked on my straw noisily, fighting my gag reflex. Oat milk always tasted funky to me, but it tasted especially funky in iced coffee. “What’s happening? Why are you so upset? I’m about to be late for econ, FYI.”
Rock n’ roll till death. That’s me, baby.
Paulina took a seat beside me, rubbing my back in circles.
“Lara?”
“Yeah?”
“You have a problem.”
“Can you be more specific?” I sighed. “Because I kind of have a bunch.”
“This Ryan dude you’ve been hanging out with a hot minute ago has been telling people you and Adam Greene are sleeping together. He says you’ve been cheating on your boyfriend with him. And, well, that you’re a slut.”
It didn’t hit me like a wrecking ball. No. It trickled into me like poison. Slowly. I digested it in small bites. Every piece of information. Blinking rapidly against the rising spring sun.
This was a small school, in a small town. Things like this had consequences. This could end me. Socially. Forever.
“Why would anyone believe him?” I huffed, low-balling my panic.
“Because,” Paulina bit her lower lip in worry, “Adam Greene dropped out and disappeared from the face of the Earth.”
Later, I would be able to put together the entire picture of what happened that month.
Later—many months later—my mother would casually mention that Adam Greene transferred to another school because a bunch of his basketball teammates found out he was gay and bullied him to a point of deep, suicidal depression, and he couldn’t take it anymore and bailed.
Later, I would find out that Ryan himself was going through a mental breakdown from hell. Not only was he kicked out of a band he essentially started, but his baby brother was going through a ton of health problems, and his parents were on the brink of a divorce.
Later, later, later.
In that moment in time, though, all I knew was this: things looked really bad for me. Adam Greene switched schools mysteriously and unexpectedly and couldn’t be found. Ryan was shouting from the rooftops that I was a cheating slut who got him punched in the face when I had vehemently denied cheating on my boyfriend so he wouldn’t hit me. People jumped on the bandwagon. Some because they were bored. Some because they generally didn’t like me. But most just kept their mouths shut and watched as it all unfolded, horrified and fascinated at the same time.
