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“Do you see what he’s reading?”
“Devon, put the book away,” my dad resigns. “We’re going to leave in a few minutes, then you can do whatever you want.”
“Maybe I want to go to church, too.”
“Yeah, right,” Darci says. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Opposition research.”
“Okay, girls. We need to get going,” Lydia says. “Jeff?”
“If you’re going, you better go change quickly,” my dad says.
“Nah,” I tell him. “Maybe next time, though. See you later, Ally.”
I swipe my book up from the table and head toward the staircase. Darci says to my back, “Stop talking to her. You’re going to scare her, and then she won’t want to come over anymore.”
Really? I think she likes me.
But the last thing I’d do is say something like that to Darci. Darci is used to getting whatever she wants, and it isn’t fair that she gets Ally, too. I remember the first time she brought her over here—it was right before the school year started, and I thought it was some kind of mistake. She was quiet and introspective like she is now, but something else about her drew me in. Something fierce, unbreakable. It was the kind of vibe that would scare many people away, but not me. It sucked me into her orbit, and I got into the habit of making myself present but somewhere in the background whenever she was around, watching her and waiting for either of them to realize their mistake, but they never did.
But Ally looks tired now. I suppose almost a year of being Darci’s sidekick would do that to a person. Or maybe it’s just that she’s realized what a shit hole Black Rock High School is and always has been, and it’s left her disenchanted with both humanity and life in general.
I think that’s what happened to me.
I spend the rest of the day alone in my room, mentally preparing for another week of being no one.
Ifeel my cheeks burn red when Devon walks into art class first period. I spent the rest of the weekend dreading this. I think maybe I told him too much; I let him get a peek at what’s behind the wall, which isn’t something I normally do. My other friends don’t ask about my art. They never ask me anything about my life, and if they ever decided they cared, I don’t know what I’d tell them.
I regret it, but he probably does, too. What Darci said about me is true—at least the important part of it. I am a waste of time.
I keep my eyes trained on my sketchbook when he walks past and slides into a seat at the table behind me.
“Hey Ally,” he says from behind me. “You look really pretty today.”
I almost turn around to say something—I don’t know what, but something—but then Trevor walks over and leans against my table.
I wasn’t lying when I told Devon that Trevor wasn’t the reason I was crying. It wasn’t because of him, and itwascomplicated. I cried because I’m afraid I’ll always be alone, and it won’t be because I chose it. It will be because I don’t know how to be with anyone else anymore.
“Um, hey. What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye to you the other night,” he says. “I just wanted to see your face.”
So, this is what he’s going with?
“Is this guy fucking serious?” Devon says out loud, laughing. “Yo, Ms. Gates. Trevor doesn’t go here. Can you get him out of here?”
“Mind your own business, West. Or I’ll rip that thing out of your nose.”
“Holt, leave my classroom and go do whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing,” Ms. Gates replies, bored.
“See you at lunch,” he says before he leaves the room.
“Whhaaaaat a fucking tool,” Devon says. I laugh a little, then quieter he adds, “Ally, can I see you later?”
This time, I do turn around. “I’m really not allowed to go anywhere…not anywhere but school. What Darci said about me was true: youarewasting your time.”
“I don’t think so,” he says.
