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“Thank you.”
“Would you like a slice of cake?”
I’d like you all to get out of my house.“Sure.”
She walks away, and I pretend like I’m thrilled to be a part of their cult.
Midway through them singing the official school song, I manage to slip outside on my porch for a moment alone.
“Oooh, I guess I have some competition for your affection.” Miss Shaw joins me seconds later.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course.” She laughs and holds out the package I mailed back to Genevieve. Although the address is torn off, there’s a lavender bow wrapped around it, and a small card.
Miss Shaw smiles and reads the note aloud.
If “you are who you choose to be…”
What’s the worst that could happen if you choose to be with me?
-Anonymous
Jesus Christ.
“Aw, don’t get upset.” She sets down the card. “I’ve received my share of gifts from students before. Whenever the girl owns up to it, just tell her ‘thank you’ over a cup of coffee and let her down tenderly.”
“Will do.”But it’ll be anything but “tenderly.”
6
GENEVIEVE
“Love, forty, Genevieve Edwards!” The umpire shouts across the court. “Please prepare for the next play.”
Today is my final tennis match of the season and I’m one point away from winning.
I look up in the stands, hoping to see someone sitting there rooting for me and my final tennis match, but my ‘family and friends’ section is empty.
As usual.
The ball boy runs to the net to retrieve the ball, and I patiently await the serve.
As the ball comes over the net, I picture Mr. Donovan’s face on it and position my racket so I can smack it down at the speed of light.
My opponent doesn’t stand a chance.
“Game, set, match,” the umpire says. “Genevieve Edwards.”
The crowd applauds, and I shake my favorite opponent’s hand at the net.
“Good game, Tiffany.”
“Foryou.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”
“Screw you.” She laughs and we shake the umpire’s hand before approaching the bench.
