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Just get through the day the best I can.
And then tomorrow, I’ll get through that one as well.
“Just remember that if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you.”
I almost stumble over my feet at the comment. There’s no way I’d tell her anything of a personal nature, because I know damn well that she’d use it against me. Whatever juicy tidbit I confided would be spread through the halls of HP by the end of fifth hour.
I give her another tight smile as the drone of voices increases and we reach the spacious dining hall. “Thanks, I appreciate the offer.”
Pursing her shiny lips, she pats my arm. “You’re being so brave about this whole thing. Especially since you’ve practically committed social suicide and you’re basically a pariah.”
Better to be an outcast than in a relationship with Jasper.
As we step inside the double story space, Sloane slips her arm free. “Well, it was super nice chatting with you. The girls and I are going to head to our usual table. I’d ask you to join us but,” she shoots me another sad face, “it would be awkward, considering that we’re sitting with your ex.”
“No worries. I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will, sweetie.” She turns to her group of minions who trail after us. “Come on, girls. Lunch awaits.”
Most send pitying looks my way from beneath mascara-laden lashes as they flip their extensions on their way past.
Aubrey is the only one who stops before pointing to the far end of the room. “If you’re looking for a place to eat, there’s a table over there in no-man’s land. I’m sure the rejects won’t mind you joining them.”
With a wave of her two-inch acrylic nails, she skips away, leaving me to stand alone in a crowd of hundreds. As my gaze roves over the sea of unfriendly faces, I regret my decision not to hide in the photography studio. It’s tempting to slowly back out of the room before turning tail and running. Except...that would make everything worse. These people are like rogue sharks. As soon as they smell a drop of blood in the water, there’ll be a feeding frenzy. There’s no other choice but to face it head on. Even if I have to do it on my own.
I should be used to this feeling of isolation.
But the truth is that it never gets easier.
A burst of laughter rings out and my gaze automatically slides toward the sound. Slone is perched on Jasper’s lap with her arms locked around his neck as he grins. She leans closer, whispering something in his ear before they both turn and glance at me.
Heat floods my face as I force my feet into movement.
Heads swivel, gazes locking on me with each table I walk by. The babble of voices follows, growing stronger with each step I take. The snippets of conversation I catch make it difficult to hold my head up high.
By the time I reach the table on the outer edge, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. This is so much worse than I anticipated. Last night, as I laid awake in bed, I tried to tell myself that Saturday night wouldn’t be a hot topic of conversation.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It feels like that’s all anyone can talk about.
Even a few teachers gave me curious looks.
Like Mr. Pembroke, no one is blaming Jasper for outing Austin’s secret. Somehow, everything has been twisted up until it no longer reflects reality, and I’m the cheating whore who has been dumped by her boyfriend. My heart plummets, knowing that Jasper will continue to fuel that particular fire. And there’s nothing I can do to shut it down.
No one will listen to me.
Air seeps from my lungs as I drop down at a table on the outermost ring. I stare at the brown paper bag and realize I don’t have much of an appetite. The thought of consuming even a bite makes me sick to my stomach. Unsure what to do, I pull out the bottle of water and twist off the cap before lifting the container to my lips and taking a small sip.
As soon as the cool liquid hits my belly, it threatens to revolt. I have no idea how I’m going to get through this without falling to pieces. I will away the tears that threaten the backs of my eyes.
Just when I consider the merits of rushing from the cafeteria, two guys wander over before stopping. I keep my gaze averted, hoping they’ll move it along. The last thing I want to do is acknowledge their presence.
My heart sinks when one says, “Hey, Delilah.”
The laughter that lurks beneath the smug tone tells me everything I need to know about how this conversation will go.
I suck in a deep breath and force myself to meet their gazes.
