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“I’m —”
“Because I know that’s exactly what you’re doing in there. And I have two very good reasons to believe that.” Then, “No, wait. Three.Threevery good reasons to believe that.” Before I can say anything, she begins listing them, “A: You’ve been in there for like, thirty minutes even though you know that we need to get going soon and you hate being late to anything because you’re such a good girl.Annoyinglygood. B: You left in the middle of a conversation when we both know that you’re too polite to ever do that. Like, you’d stand there with your ears bleeding if you had to but you won’t leave. Again because you’re so annoyingly good. And the third reason why I think you’re overthinking is because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks. Ever since you came up with the plan.”
I have to admit — as much as it pains me — that she’s right. On all three points.
I hate being late to places, and from the looks of it we’re going to be at least fifteen minutes late to our destination. I hate interrupting someone or cutting someone short when they’re talking. And that’s exactly what I did before I fled to the bathroom.
To be alone. To, yes, overthink.
Because of the plan.
The stupid stupid plan.
ThatIcame up with, by the way.
All alone. Single-handedly.
“It’s wrong,” I say after several seconds of silence. “What I’m about to do.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s stalking, Jupiter.”
“It’s almost stalking.”
I narrow my eyes at the door. “I don’t think that that’s going to matter. That it’s almost stalking.”
“To whom exactly?”
“To the cops, for one.”
I hear a long sigh. “No one’s going to call the cops on you.”
“Oh, they’re not?”
“Well,” she admits. “Not again.”
Yeah, not again.
Because they have before, haven’t they?
Yes, I’m one of the many, many unlucky people who have had the misfortune of cops being called on them. In fact that’s the very reason I’m at a reform school.
Because two years ago, I did something stupidandillegal.
Which means cops had to get involved.
Look, I’m not saying that I didn’t deserve it.
I absolutely deserved it.
I absolutely deserved being arrested and interrogated. In fact, I think I got off easy. I could’ve spent months in a juvenile detention center for the horrible thing that I did. Instead, I was let out free. On the condition that I attend a reform school.
But that’s not the point.
The point is that I shouldn’t do this.
I should never have come up with this plan.
