Page 149 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
My mouth falls open as all the hurt inside me congeals into one ugly blob. “You’re writing about me for the school paper? You’re turning my life into sensationalism?”
Jasper sits back, offended. “It’s your fault. If you didn’t act so mysteriously and...”
“And grief-stricken?” I fire back at him. “Huh? Did that occur to you, Jasper, during your little research find? Maybe I didn’t say anything because I’m not ready to admit to strangers that my parents are dead?”
Gasps fly out from the nearing workstations. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I think today has broken me and I’m no longer capable of shutting down my emotions.
“Jasper?” Mr. Deluca says softly, moving away from another student’s station. “Alice? Everything okay here?”
Jasper shifts in his seat, trying to gain some composure. “Just talking about an article for The Gazette.”
Mr. Deluca frowns. “And do you think another student’s personal life is suitable material?”
Jasper scoffs, fidgeting and crossing his arms. “Her aunt started it. If she hadn’t humiliated me at the...”
Mr. Deluca raises a placating hand. “Jasper, take a beat. I think it’s a good idea for you to rethink some of your choices.”
I can’t help smiling. Mr. Deluca hasn’t missed a step. Dang. Why have I been skipping this class? This guy rocks.
Jasper groans and packs up his things, moving to a station further away from mine.
I sigh with relief, slumping in my seat.
Mr. Deluca taps my desk. “Let me know if anything else like that pops up. You don’t deserve to have anyone nosing around in your business.”
I give him a grateful smile and nod.
Mr. Deluca moves back to the other student and resumes their conversation about focal lengths, when someone sits in Jasper’s absent chair.
Madison Pierce.
Ugh.
“Before you say anything,” Madison says, holding up both hands, “I’m not here to ask about him.”
I look at her sideways.
“I mean it.” She pulls Jasper’s abandoned seat a few inches toward mine. “I just saw what happened, and I feel bad about how people have been treating you since you got here.”
“Okay,” I say carefully.
“I’m serious, Alice.” There’s no influencer brightness in her voice. Instead, she sounds like a real person. The person I thought she was when I first met her in the cafeteria. “If what you just said… You walked into this school having lost everything, and instead of anyone giving you five seconds of grace, they made you a villain in some story about Ryder Hamilton.” She shakes her head. “That’s not fair.”
I don’t say anything. I’m waiting for the pivot. The ask. The moment when being on my side turns out to be a transaction.
It doesn’t come.
Madison picks up a pencil from the workstation tray and turns it over in her fingers, as if she needs something to do with her hands. “Kimberley and Jessa are horrible. I know everyone thinks they’re just catty, but they’re genuinely cruel. They did the same thing to me when I transferred here. They made my life so miserable. That’s why I’m working so hard at cultivating my brand. I want armor, so no one can hurt me again.”
I look at her properly for the first time. “But doesn’t that just make you a target online? Online hate can be immensely cruel.”
Madison smirks, shrugging. “Beats having it said right to my face.”
I sigh, remembering the way Kimberley and Jessa ran up to me in art class, like a juicy piece of gossip was satisfying their bloodlust.
“Thank you,” I say tentatively. “It’s still really hard to trust people at this school. But it means a lot that you can relate.”
Sympathy drips from her smile. “But my parents are still here. Your situation is a lot tougher than them mocking my modest style.”
