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First period wasn’t so bad. The walk from first to second was a joy. I had to swing by my locker, and there was a lovely slut note taped to the front. I tugged it off and crumpled it up. Rachel bumped the locker next to mine as I opened the door.
“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just a bunch of sharks scenting blood in the water.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I told her. “Thanks for—the thing with Patty.”
“Anytime,” Rachel said, smiling. “You good to get to class, or do you want me to be a bitch on wheels for you?”
I laughed. “I’m good. I’ll see you later.”
“Count on it.”
Ian was waiting for me outside of class. “Jake’s still in the SRO office, and his mom is on the way.”
Crap.
“I talked to my dad, too. He said he could come up. Might help, but he was gonna call Jake’s mom.” Even that reassurance wasn’t a bright spot.
I’d checked my phone a dozen times in class, but nothing from Jake. He probably couldn’t text, and I didn’t want to distract him.
Calculus sucked, and it was all I could do to focus on the numbers and the formulas. It didn’t help that two of the girls on the other side of the room kept up a whispering commentary with pointed looks at me. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Ian walked with me to French, his determined expression seemed to hold some of the comments at bay, or I was overreacting.
Mathieu smiled when he saw me and nodded to Ian. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” he promised, and I frowned.
“I can look after myself,” I told them both. “I’ll see you at lunch?” The last was to Ian, and he nodded, then gave my hand a squeeze before he looked at Mathieu.
“Thanks, man.”
“Of course.”
The test in French should have been easy, but it was hard to focus, and took me longer than usual to work my way through it and the two essay questions. I had maybe ten minutes at the end of it, and I was exhausted.
At least the test kept people quiet. The walk from French to AP Lit brought me eye to eye with Patty, who opened her mouth then shut it abruptly as Rachel bumped my hip and smirked at her.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you wanted to say anything,” Rachel said as we continued past her. Great. They were all pissed at me. After we were down the hall and around the corner, she glanced at me. “Keep your chin up. Haters are going to hate.”
“I noticed… thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She gave me another bump. “See you later.” She continued up the hall as I diverted into AP Lit. Coop shot me a smile as I walked in.
“Frankie,” Ms. Fajardo said as she rose from her desk. “Can I have a word?” She motioned me back to the door, and I nodded. Worry and guilt collided in my gut. Had I forgotten something else? Ms. Fajardo didn’t usually pull me aside—at least, not before class. Though we talked a lot the mornings I’d hung out in here. Coop tracked us with a worried look as I squeezed past two students to get out of the room.
“Everyone take your seats, and if you haven’t done the chapter reading for today, get to it. If you have, then pull out your journals. No talking.” Then she closed the door as the bell rang, leaving us in the deserted hallway. Worry filled her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said slowly. Other than being worried about Jake, while also being labeled a slut, and having to endure kids I didn’t know whispering about me, and some of my former friends treating me like a pariah. Discounting all of that, I was awesome.
“Well, I was informed about the online bullying, and your counselor has asked that you come down and speak to the student support advocate, and then she’ll go with you to see the SRO to give a statement.”
Was she kidding?
“Really?” That was the last thing I wanted to do.
“We have zero tolerance policy for a reason, Frankie. I’m sorry that this happened to you. But—go on down to see Dr. Miller?
“If I’m not the one complaining, do I still have to go?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Fajardo said. “I’ll make sure Coop has a copy of the notes for you, and I’ll email you any assignments. I know you don’t like to make a big deal out of these things, but it is a big deal.”
Oh, shoot me.
