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“I am being one-hundred and one percent honest with you,” I said, finding my tone growing sharp. “I had nothing to do with… whatever this is.”
“Oh, yeah?” She forced on the most clownish smile I’d seen in a long time and shoved her phone in my face. “Tell that to your little boyfriend.”
My first thought went to Pierre, which made me grimace—who else would she be talking about? But Pierre was an ocean away, and I didn’t have any other…
Oh.
She’d pulled up a video of herself shrieking as a waterfall of hair dye fell in watery globs over her head, shoulders, everything. The camera panned from her to the roof of the building above her—looked like the outside of the dining hall—where a skinny blonde boy was perched, gripping his stomach in laughter.
Leo.
“That’s…” I bent closer over her phone, and almost reached out to hold the screen closer to my face, as the video replayed itself. “… not my boyfriend.”
Vivian tore the phone away from me. “Yea, right. Slut.”
With that, she pushed past me again and flung open the door. With the toe of my boot, I caught it just before it went slamming back into the wall, watching as she dashed down the hall and into the bathroom.
“And so it begins,” I murmured, grinning to myself as I slunk back inside the room.
I closed the door behind me, and my phone screen lit up on the vanity. I moved toward it and looked at the screen to find a DM from Elliot.
Had a feeling red was her favorite color,he’d said.I saw all the photos they posted. How unoriginal.
I scrunched up my nose. What photos?
And then I remembered it.
All the kids, pointing their phones at me, as I ran across campus with a fake period stain. It was no surprise that he was so aware of my moments of social suicide.
Giggling, I texted back,Thank you. Seriously.
About a minute passed before he responded,Thankme later.He put awinkyface.I’ll pick u up at 10.Wow, so soon.
There was a knock at my door. For a split second, I hesitated, thinking Vivian had forgotten her room key before realizing that I’d made plans. Letting out a breath of relief, I pulled open the door to a smiling Tara. Her hair was braided and bound with colorful ribbons, and like me, wore a shimmering, shameless layer ofeyeshadow. Unlike me, her look was complete.
“Ready?” she peeped, before examining my makeup. “Uh, you need help?”
“Nah, I got it,” I laughed, letting her inside. “Just got distracted.”
I skipped back to my vanity and quickly continued where I left off with the eyeliner. All of a sudden, I felt starving. This wasn’t my first time trying the food here at Freeman, and it was nothing special, but now, it was all I could think about.
Maybe it was the ketchup.
I snorted at the thought. Tara gave me a concerned look. “You good?”
“Yeah, great, actually,” I said, twisting the cap back onto the eyeliner. I was a little out of practice, but it made me feel like myself again. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Ah.” Tara made a slow round through my half of the room, just as I’d done with hers, inspecting the bare walls. Then she turned to look at Vivian’s side. “I just saw your roommate running down the hall,” she said, picking up an empty bottle of liquor from the waste basket, as if it were a clue. “She’s going to have to throw this out in the back, you know. They do room checks next week.”
Oh, yeah?
“She was running to the bathroom,” I explained, and decided not to go any further. Some things were best kept secret. “And I couldn’t care less if they catch her drinking in here. If she isn’t kicked out by then, I’ll shoot myself.”
Or summon Elliot’s wrath.
“You want to care, trust me,” Tara said, dropping the bottle back. “It’s either you dispose of this stuff, or she does. You might both get punished.”
I shrugged, looking back at the waste basket. If what Tara was saying was true, even though Vivian might get suspended, or at least moved to a different room, that punishment wasn’t enough for me. Nope. If I wanted Vivian to go down, I wanted it to be slow, painful, and oh-so entertaining.
