Roman saunters forward, smiling but I can see the derisive curl there; he’s behind this all. This was his plan all along. He plants the crown on my head, his fingers moving the stray strands out of the way. It sends a series of unwanted shivers down my skin.

  “Congratulations.”

  His voice is smooth and like butter. I know it’s full of shit.

  He leans back, moving to stand towards the podium. “I’d like to take this moment to thank the teachers…”

  He drones on and I’m just trying to piece this together; he set me up. But why?

  “…I wish everyone the best for their college futures and want to say, I hope we can remember this night in particular.”

  Roman flashes a look upwards, nodding.

  What is he doing?

  My eyes follow his direction. A couple of students - freshmen - are positioned near the lights, holding buckets. It happens quickly before I can react. They swiftly turn the buckets, unleashing rivers of gunge that splatters all over my red dress. The brown liquid is slimy, thick and smells of rotting fish. Everyone in the crowd gasps, covering their mouths. Some break out into fits of laughter before the rest of the crowd joins in, howling at the scene. Mr Smith’s exclaims of disproval and commands of silence do nothing; the noise of hysterical laughter drowns him out.

  They’re all laughing at me.

  They’re all laughing at me.

  I’m the joke of the night.

  This was Roman’s plan.

  The final step in the humiliation process.

  My eyes scan the crowd; Madison’s laughing, her eyes settled and taut with an understanding. She knew about this. Of course she did. I find Gina’s horrified, mournful stare reflected back in mine, she’s shaking her head, mouthing silent apologies. She had no idea.

  I blame myself.

  I should have known better.

  Tears prick at my eyes, bitter and insistent.

  Don’t cry.

  Not here.

  Not now.

  But it’s too late. The cries are flowing out and break out of my chest. Tears fall freely and I furiously wipe them away. It’s all a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. My cries are soft and subtle but the more I tell myself not to cry, the harder the stifled sob.

  My skin prickles, the hairs standing up. I turn to my left and meet Roman’s stare.

  He’s not laughing.

  Instead, his face is painfully tense. There’s a deep line etched between his sandy brows. His blue eyes are swimming with a startling intensity of emotions.

  Torn.

  Conflicted.

  Remorseful.

  No.

  It’s not that.

  It will never be that.

  It’s too fucking late to feel remorse, asshole.

  I don’t see Gina come on stage until she’s by my side, whispering in my ear. “Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I don’t say a word as Gina pulls up near my house. She borrowed Hunter’s car, stealing his keys when he wasn’t looking. It’s what he deserves, she shrugs. The car stops, and both of us are sitting silently.

  I’m afraid if I open my mouth, only sobs will come out. Gina looks at my puffy face. We managed to get most of the gunge out in the girls’ bathroom before heading into the car but the pungent smell still remains. A wave of sadness swells my chest. My mind flashes to the events of this night.

  “I’m sorry,” Gina says softly. She flickers her gaze nervously to me. “I had no idea he was planning…what he did. I’m sorry.”

  . My eyes water, my mouth trembling.

  “I just wish this was all over,” I whimper.

  She frowns, moving to face me and grabbing my hands. “Hey, fuck them. Fuck them and I’m saying that knowing they’re my friends - or were.”

  “You don’t have to say that.”

  “But I do. Kennedy, what he did - what they did - was awful and downright nasty. I…” she sighs, bowing her head. “I thought telling you to stay away from prom - like Roman ordered - was the right thing. Kyle’s…how do I explain it? He’s not in the right headspace for a relationship and I thought I was doing the right thing. And then when Roman told me that I should bring you along after all because Kyle wanted it and…I thought I was helping. I fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

  I inhale deeply, wiping the tears. “What’s…wrong with Kyle?”

  She exhales slowly, leaning back. “It’s not my place to say…it’s just he’s going through a lot emotionally.”

  “Well, don’t worry.” My eyes lower. “We’re just friends. We were never in a relationship, he doesn’t like me in that way.”

  “How do you know?”

  I shrug. “We just get along but there’s nothing romantic to it. I mean…I think he’s cute but I only wanted a friend.” My cheeks warm into that telltale blush.

  Gina considers my words. She leans against the headrest. “Mm, I think he likes you.”

  I roll my eyes lightheartedly, scoffing. “Okay, Gina. You know boys and girls can be friends without wanting to sleep with each other. Besides, I thought you two…”

  She bursts into a high pitched chuckle. “Are you kidding? We’re literally like brother and sister. No way.”

  “So why me then? You know I asked I’m why he started talking to me, after everything. He’s known me for years, his friends routinely bullied me, he knew it and he did nothing, and then all of sudden, he wants to be my friend. I’m just as confused as you are so excuse me if I don’t buy the ‘he likes you’ theory.”

  Gina sighs. “What can I say? Boys are dumb.”

  “You got that right.”

  We both share a smile, before looking ahead at the street.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside,” Gina opens the car door and heads out. I open my door, slamming it shut as I catch up with her.

  “You don’t have to -“

  “Look, if your folks are going to see you covered in this mess, we’re better off telling them you fell in a puddle of slime on your way out. Less messy in detail.”

  “No pun intended?” I smirk.

  “Exactly,” she returns the smile.

  We walk up to the porch, right by the door. As she presses the doorbell, I touch her shoulder gently. “Thanks, by the way. For this.”

  Her expression falls slightly. “I didn’t do anything. I should have stepped up sooner but better late than never.”

  The door opens, revealing my dad in the hallway. He’s got his reading glasses on and his eyes widen like saucers when he takes note of my appearance.

  “What happened to you?” He says incredulously.

  Gina clears her throat, putting her hand out for a handshake. Dad returns the hand, greeting her politely. “Good evening, Mr Hinch. My name’s Gina Velasquez, I’m a friend of Kennedy’s. I’m just dropping her off home and wanted to make sure she got back safely. Oh this?” She points to the brown jellied stains on Kirsten’s red dress. “Funny story! Well, kinda depressing for our prom memories. We were dancing and the catering staff accidentally spilled this old fish stick residue on our dresses near the tables. Trust me, not our idea of a memorable night, right!” She laughs. I realise she’s smeared some of the gunge on her dress too, giving more credibility to her story. My heart softens at the touching gesture of solidarity.

  “Yeah, it was a nightmare to clean in the girls’ bathroom,” I add.

  “No kidding,” Dad says. “Are you both alright?”

  “Oh we’re fine, but you should have seen the guys’ clothes - some were even wearing white. Think of the dry cleaning bills,” she whispers, shuddering at the thought.

  A snort escapes out my mouth. She returns the warm smile.

  “Well, I better leave you guys to it.” Gina salutes, giving me a subtle nod.

  “See you, Gina.”

  She gives me a wink before she heads back to the car, revving the engine loudly before she speeds down the road. Dad’s eyes stay latched onto me.

  “You okay?”

  My shoulders sag, deflating a little. “Yeah, I just could use a hot bath to get this gunge off.”

  “Good idea.” He says gruffly, nodding. “You head inside and I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “Thanks,” I give him a quiet smile.

  Once I’m inside, I hibernate in the bathtub, letting my body submerge into the bubbly rosy water and letting my hair soak. The warm water feels like sweet relief to my sticky skin, and the floral scent soothes my nerves that I almost forget what happened tonight.

  Almost.

  How could he do that to me?

  I knew Roman Johnson was a monster, a guy with no regard for my feelings, only misery would do for the giant jock but this? This was what he was alluding to the whole time? This was the revenge he was planning?

  It’s all a cruel joke.

  Sabotaging my prom, humiliating me and making me believe Kyle was there and to top it all off, he had fish guts raining all over my head. I soak my head under the water, relishing the cool silence. If only life could be this calm and simple.

  My life feels like a combination of waves; choppy and unpredictable most of the time ever since Mom died. Before that, the waves were calm, pleasant even, and it washed away my sadness.

  Now, it’s all I fight through.

  I wish she was still here. I miss her every single day. I’d give anything to crawl into her lap and ask her to hold me, keep me safe in her arms because I know at least - at the very least - no matter what crap is thrown in my face, she would hold me and have my back.

  The prom disaster wouldn’t nearly be as bad if she was here. I could tell her how I really feel, how trapped and scared I get sometimes and how I wouldn’t feel the need to pretend all the time. Pretending I’m okay, pretending that I’ve got things under control, pretending that I’m happy because it’s all so exhausting.

  Dad has no idea how I truly feel.

  It’s because you never tell him.

  But he’s never asked.

  He’s not Mom but you have to try, Kennedy.

  —-

  I get dressed into my comfy pyjamas and wrap the fluffiest blanket in my room around my body and waddle downstairs. Dad’s in the kitchen, handing out some pizza and a tub of peanut butter ice cream. He gives me a faint, soft nod and sits on the kitchen stool.

  “I figured you wanted something a bit more indulgent today,” he shifts. “Unless you want something else -“

  “This is fine,” I shake my head, moving to sit on the opposite chair. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it.”

  He mutters something unintelligible but I’m pretty sure it’s along the lines of ‘don’t mention it’.

  We sit in silence, eating our pizza. This has become our routine; breakfast, lunch and dinner - silence as we eat our food and look at our phones, newspapers, anything but each other. This time though, I could use with a conversation that doesn’t centre around my thoughts.

  I clear my throat. He looks up.

  “I…I, uh, didn’t exactly have a good time at prom,” I say.

  His face becomes alarmed but I shake head, putting my hands up. “No, no, I’m fine…well, not fine really, if you count being publicly humiliated in front of everyone, fine.”

  “What happened?” He says seriously.

  Oof, this is embarrassing.

  Time to spill my guts.

  Not the fish guts, mind you.

  “The details aren’t great but let’s just say what happened to my dress wasn’t an accident.”

  He blinks twice. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I guess I didn’t really want to talk about it but I suppose if I’m going to ask you a huge favor, a little context will probably help.”

  “What favor?”

  I glance up. “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

  A beat of silence. Then he leans forward. “You don’t want to go to school anymore?”

  “Yep.”

  He searches my face before frowning. “What’s going on, Kennedy?”

  I sigh heavily, tightening the blanket around me. “School sucks. Like it really, really sucks.”

  Dad reaches out his hand, unsure of himself before retracting it. I could tell he was trying to be sympathetic. A stab of rejection hits my heart but I swallow deeply, putting the mask on.

  It’s not his fault.

  He’s trying, Kennedy.

  But the sting doesn’t go away.

  “Some kids pick on me; nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to get worried about. But it’s making my life a little…tedious.” Tedious? Is that the word for it? I picked it up from a tv show on medieval vampires, for sure. It sounds just about right. My eyes look up, watching Dad. A pinch between his brows tells me he’s worried.

  My heart swells a little. It’s nice to know that he cares.

  Of course, he cares. He’s your dad.

  “That sounds like something I would worry about, Ken.”

  I nod mutely, unsure.

  “You want to miss school?” He asks tentatively. “As in a couple of days -“

  “No,” I shake my head. “As in I don’t want to go back. Ever.”

  To my surprise, he just nods. He gets it and doesn’t push back; doesn’t shout that I’m being unreasonable and that it’s a ridiculous suggestion. Senior year is nearly over and it’s not much point being there. But I don’t know if Dad thinks it’s something I can just flunk out on when there’s just three months until graduation.

  “I don’t have a problem with it,” he says.

  My jaw drops. “You don’t?”

  “I didn’t really buy your friend’s story about the catering staff. You haven’t really been happy for a while, have you?”

  My chest tightens. That wave of sadness. It’s crashing against my lungs, threatening to spill out. He noticed. He noticed that things weren’t right.

  I’m gonna cry.

  Shit.

  I cover my eyes tightly. It’s too embarrassing. I’ve never cried in front of him. We barely talk about our feelings and now I decide to cry in front of him? A sharp inhale and a sniffle. That’s all I’m giving out.

  A hand covers mine, warm and coarse. It envelopes mine and holds it tightly. My eyes crack open, watching as Dad tries to support me.. He may not have the ‘How to Be A Great Parent 101’ book and we may never be as close as other dads and daughters, but he’s trying now and that’s got to count for something.

  “I don’t want you to be sad. I wish I could make it go away. I’m…I’m not really good at this stuff but you know I’m be here for you,” he says roughly. He clears his throat, blinking quickly.

  But what if you leave me again, Dad?

  What if you go away?

  What if I’m all alone again, only this time, there’s no Mom or Dad to hold me?

  I push that thought away. Now’s not the time. Instead, I give him a soft squeeze, nodding. We detach our hands and I wipe away the stray tears.

  He inhales deeply, frowning. “But if you don’t want to go to school, I’m not gonna stand in your way. I do think, however -“ he pauses, staring softly. “ - If something - or someone - is pushing you out or making you run away, then I don’t want you to run. I want you to stare that sucker in the face and let them know you are here. You tell that sucker that you won’t be messed around with, Ken.”

  “I wish it was that simple,” I chuckle weakly.

  “It’s as simple as not letting anyone walk all over you.”

  “I don’t let people walk all over me,” I bristle.

  Kind of untrue, Ken. He has a point.

  Shut it, brain.

  He gives me a sympathetic look.

  I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “I guess I do but it’s not as simple as just telling them to fuck off.” I glance up quickly. “Sorry.”

  Dad snorts, waving me off. “It’s fine. It’s good you’re cursing. Let out some of that anger.”

  I straighten my back. “Well, I’m pissed off. This group - one particular group - just likes to push me around and I would love - absolutely love - to tell them to fuck off but then they’ll make my school life unbearable and I…” I trail.

  Wait a second.

  Dad and I stare at each other, a lightbulb going off.

  He lifts his eyebrow, smiling knowingly. “If you’re leaving anyway, what’s there to be afraid of?”

  “Right,” I breathe. “You’re right. How did this just click now? Fuck it. If I’m leaving anyway, what’s there to be scared of? They won’t be anywhere near where I am two, three months from now.”

  “Exactly, Ken.”

  Talk about a ‘eureka’ moment. What’s the big deal? It’s nearly March and graduation is in a few months and it’s all over - Mountford High School and all the demons that come with it will be a relic of the past.

  I’m not worried about our paths crossing either.

  And the reason?

  …I’m not going college this year.

  I need to break it to Dad.

  I applied to UCLA and I still haven’t heard back. Everyone around me has had some offer or a rejection. I tried contacting the admissions office but all they said was they’d be in touch soon. So I just gotta sit tight.

  Or…

  Or I could not go college this year.

  Navigating this senior year is tough but it’s difficult not knowing what exactly you want to do; I don’t know yet. I thought I wanted to study political science as a major, maybe heading to a college out of state but the more I thought about it, the more I realised it didn’t feel right. So maybe I should take a year out to figure out a plan. To decide what it is I want. I was so quick to run away from this place that I didn’t figure where I would land.

  And as for the other guys? Madison and her crew? Roman and his friends? They’ve made their plans pretty clear. From what I gathered in conversation, Roman received his acceptance to USC. California. The other side of the country. A little too close to UCLA and honestly, it’s one of the reasons why I’m considering taking a break.

  Madison made it clear that she planned to move to LA herself; although college is probably the last thing on her mind. She’s taking a year out, planning to travel and live in a nice apartment in the city. Again, on the other side of the country. Just like her boyfriend.