Chapter 23 - A Million Rainbows

Kyle and I had one class together: AP Calculus with Mr. Lord.

Lyndsay and I had four.

She was in calculus with both me and Kyle. Then with me in AP English with Mrs. Ninn. And we also had AP U.S. History together, and then gym.

And gym was the worst because of the locker room.

My brave, but foolish, interaction with Kyle in math class on Halloween had not gone unnoticed.

The rumors had started up again. They weren’t as bad this time around. For the most part, people were just saying we were a thing. And that happened to be true, so they weren’t really even rumors.

But the fact that it was true, and the fact that Lyndsay somehow knew it was true, made everything worse.

When Kyle and Lyndsay broke up, their rather large group of friends had split, too. And, though it was considerably smaller these days, the group that had remained with Lyndsay was tight and loyal to her. And that group of girls had banded together with Lyndsay for the sole purpose of making my life miserable. Yay.

I was navigating school carefully with my head down, dodging the onslaught of insults getting lobbed at me everywhere I went. And these chicks had quite the mouths on them. It was unbelievable, actually. They threw every foul term they knew at me. Words I myself didn’t even feel comfortable repeating, and no one would consider me a prude. I was just glad it had stopped at name-calling. But I was a little worried they might try to use something stronger than their malicious vocabulary to pound me to the ground.

Kyle, of course, wasn’t getting this lovely extra attention from the girls. He didn’t even realize how bad it was for me since I was kind of keeping it to myself. I didn’t know how telling him would help. He already felt bad our secret was out, and I didn’t want him saying anything to Lyndsay.

It didn’t matter that Kyle and I continued to lie low at school, still ignoring each other, still pretending like we were strangers. We weren’t fooling Lyndsay, not this time, and even after nearly two weeks, she wasn’t letting up.

It was all a part of her messed up, ridiculous plan to get Kyle back. I knew that’s what she was doing. She was trying to wear me down, trying to get me to break up with him.

Anybody else, and I would have bowed out by now. But it was Kyle. It was Kyle. She’d have to try harder because there was no way I was going to let him go so easily. No way.

But school life was miserable, and I had too many classes with Lyndsay, so I couldn’t even avoid her or her many friends.

And gym was the worst because of the locker room.

Lyndsay took that rare, teacher-free opportunity to really hammer in her hate for me.

No one usually bothered with locks, so the lockers weren’t secure. Last week she and her friends had taken my bra. I changed into a sports bra for gym, and they had taken my regular one, soaked it in the sink—hopefully, the sink, maybe the toilet—and then hung it back up on the hook in my locker, letting it drip on everything else in there, including my jeans, and I had to go around looking like I had peed myself.

I was cursing at myself because I had meant to buy a damn lock but forgot. At least today, my clothes were dry. Maybe Lyndsay was finally losing some steam.

I took them with me to a bathroom stall since I wouldn’t be changing in front of Mrs. Perfect Boobs ever again.

When I went to pull on my shirt, I noticed the writing—a scribble of black. I pulled the shirt off. On the front, big and bold, was the word SLUT written in black Sharpie. And because it was marker it bled through the fabric, showing up even when I tried to turn the shirt inside out.

That T-shirt was the same one I had worn the night me and Kyle first kissed. I had planned on saving that shirt for the rest of my life.

I took off the SLUT shirt and put my gym shirt back on, stepping out of the stall. Everyone was looking at me. Emily must have been clued in on what was going on because she was standing stiffly by her locker, looking like she was about to cry.

Lyndsay and a couple of her friends were laughing. “What? Is something wrong with your shirt?” she snorted.

I ignored her and walked past her, over to my locker to get my hoodie so I could wear it over my gym shirt. But of course, the hoodie wasn’t there.

“What are you stealing from me now?” I turned to Lyndsay. She was partially dressed, wearing a cute, gray, pleated skirt with matching leggings and a lacy white bra.

She shrugged, arching out her chest with a haughty laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She pulled on a pink cashmere sweater and proceeded to fix her make-up, using the mirror on her locker door.

My survival instincts were telling me to hold my tongue, turn around, and just leave it. But that was my favorite hoodie. I didn’t have a lot of clothes I liked, but I liked that hoodie. It was black, and it went with everything.

And I really liked my blue Kyle shirt.

I stepped up to Lyndsay, an uncomfortable heat in my veins pushing me forward despite my better judgment. She moved the locker door out of the way, just enough. Her big green eyes were shimmery and gorgeous and a little stunned to see me so close.

My brain was boiling. All the hits I’d taken from her and her posse over the past couple of weeks had pushed me to some mental break I hadn’t seen coming.

I stared her down, fire in my veins. My nerves were hot wires ready to zap. “I don’t own Kyle, Lyndsay. If he wants you back, he can have you back. Okay? Does that sound fair to you? I’m sure you still have his number, so give him a call. See what he says?”

I brought my hand to her locker door, slamming it shut, nearly hitting her freshly powdered nose, and she fell back a step in surprise.

I was still seething at her, and was probably a second from getting punched in the face, when Emily grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the locker room.

We found an empty bathroom down the hall.

“I can’t believe you did that,” said Emily.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had enough of her shit.” My face was still burning.

Emily was wearing a big puffy cable-knit sweater, and she took it off, handing it to me.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll just wear my gym shirt.” I barely moved in gym class. It wasn’t dirty or sweaty or anything. It was stupid and green … but clean enough.

“Are you sure?”

I sighed. “Yeah.” I had one more class for the day. It was history—with Lyndsay. Yay. But I could get through it.

I held up my blue T-shirt. “It’s ruined though, huh?” I frowned at the big black SLUT stain. “This was my Kyle shirt,” I said, dropping my arms with a grumpy pout.

Emily grabbed the shirt from me. “I don’t know. I once got blood and iodine out of white silk. Can I try?”

“God, Emily, what were you doing?”

She grimaced. “That was when I tried to pierce my belly button. Big mistake.”

“Geez.” I laughed.

“So do you want me to try?” She held up the shirt.

“Yes, please. And thank you. And I’ll take it back, even if it doesn’t work.”

Emily stuffed the shirt into her backpack. “What if she calls Kyle?” she asked.

Right. In the heat of the moment, I had told Lyndsay to call Kyle. Kyle and I had never talked about how he felt about Lyndsay. For all I knew, he still harbored feelings for her, and a call would be enough to rekindle that flame.

But I really didn’t think so.

I turned to Emily. “I think it’ll be fine.”