Page 22 of Shamed
I turn my palms up to hold her hands. “You should come to my place and hang out this afternoon. Maybe order takeout and watch a movie. What do you say?”
Her face drops, regret pinching her features. “I sort of have plans already. I’m sorry.”
“Oh. That’s okay.” I try not to let the disappointment show too much on my face as I sit back and slide my hands from under hers. “Maybe another time.”
“Definitely.”
I search for my wallet in my purse, trying to keep my smile in place. “At least I still get you for coffee, and you can catch me up on everything. I’ll get yours. What do you want?”
“Actually . . .” Jersey turns to look out the window again, and I follow her gaze to see what she keeps looking at. There sits Matt in the driver’s seat of a car parked right outside.
My stomach drops to the café floor. “Is he waiting for you?”
More regret. More sad eyes. “Yes. I’m so sorry. I agreed to go to the movies with him before I remembered we had planned a coffee date.” Her sentence comes out in a rush, and it takes me a second to process.
“Oh.” My heart feels like it was just squeezed to death. She forgot about me. She made plans and forgot ours. And Marni didn’t even bother telling me she wasn’t going to show up. “You should get going then.”
“No. No. I mean . . .” She looks back out the window, and then back at me. “No. I can stay for a little bit.”
“Really, it’s fine, just go.”
Her lips twist. “Why don’t you come with us? I’m sure Matt won’t mind.”
I shake my head, trying to give myself a few extra seconds because I’m sure my voice will crack.
“Are you sure?” Jersey asks, getting to her feet. “I feel terrible.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She leans down to hug me. “I promise we’ll do something soon, okay?”
“Sure.” I blink several times to keep the tears away before she releases me.
“I’ll text you.” After walking a few steps, she looks over her shoulder, guilt still creasing her face, though not enough to stop her. “I’m sorry,” she mouths, then hurries outside to a waiting Matt.
I sit, staring at the table for a minute before it turns blurry with tears. I guess I’ll just go home and spend the afternoon alone . . . again.
After blinking away the moisture, I look up to see a table of people my age looking in my direction. My skin immediately begins to crawl. Are they looking at the hidden filth beneath?
I push to my feet, the chair scraping back as I do, then rush out of there as quickly as I can.
*~*~*~*~*
Days turn into weeks, and then suddenly months have passed.
And while many things change over that time, one thing that stays the same is the decline in my grades.
CHAPTER SIX
Jennifer
My legs are wooden as I walk in a daze toward my car.
That’s it.
I’m done.
No longer a studenthere.
