Some Girls Are

It’s a hit. Finally. He flinches like I’ve slapped him and takes a step back.

“I put myself out there for you,” he says slowly. “I can’t believe I—”

“I needed someone to put between me and Anna, and you probably never even really liked me.” I dig the knife further in, but I’m not sure I need to. “You were really lonely, and I was there after a long time of no one being there.”

He takes another step back. “You—”

I wish he would shout at me. He doesn’t. This quiet devastation creeps across his face and he fights it, and it reminds me of that day in the diner, and I feel like my heart is breaking. But it’s still not as bad as what Anna will do to him if I tell him the truth.

“I should have known,” he finally says, and I wince because he was the best thing that ever happened to me. He takes another step back. “Easy way out, every single time. Liz told me— fuck —I can’t believe I let you do this to me twice”

I can’t wait for him to go, so I go.

By the time I reach the washroom, my head is killing me, and the disgusting fluorescent lights overhead makes it feel worse. I gag over the sink, but nothing comes out. I lean forward and take deep, even breaths in and out, and then I run the water as cold as it will go, cupping my hands together for a drink. It doesn’t help. I wet a paper towel, sit on the floor—gross—and press it against my eyes.

After a while, the paper towel loses its chill, but I can’t find the will to get up and wet it again. Michael hates me. He hates me. I start to cry, keeping the paper towel against my eyes and letting it soak up my tears. When the door swings open, I can’t inspire myself to care. Getting up and trying to act okay is so beyond me right now. “Oh, Regina.”

Anna’s voice is motherly. Awful. I keep the towel against my eyes. She crosses the room and sits beside me. She presses something crumbly and dry into my hands. I look down. An oatmeal cookie. I blink and take in the room. Anna’s beside me. Kara’s leaning against the door, ensuring no one will come in.

I don’t care if Anna sees me cry, but Kara…

I wipe at my eyes with my free hand.

“Eat,” Anna urges me. I shake my head. She grabs me by the chin and makes me look at her. “Come on. I don’t make you that sick. Eat or else.”

That whole year she thought I was starving myself—after Kara actually did starve herself—she used that voice. Eat. I take a bite of the cookie and revive a little at the food in my mouth. My stomach doesn’t want it. I clamp my hand over my mouth.

It takes forever to swallow.

“Kara, wait outside,” Anna says, when I finally do.

“What? No way. I want to see this.”

“Wait outside now.”

Kara knows better than to argue. She yanks the door open and steps into the hall.

“Talk to Michael?” Anna asks me. I nod. “Did it hurt?”

The last three words set me off. My face crumples and I bring my knees up to my chest, burying my face in them.

“So now you know exactly how I felt when I found out you slept with Donnie.”

“Jesus Christ, Anna. I didn’t fucking sleep with Donnie. He tried to—”

“Don’t. Shut. Up. Listen to me: All that time I thought you were my best friend,” she says. “You were like a sister to me. Now, thanks to Michael’s journal, I find out I just made you sick. This will never get better for you, okay? I want you to understand what you ruined and how good you had it.” She tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I jerk away. “And then …I want you to be sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her desperately. “Anna, I’m sorry”

“No, you’re not,” she says. “I’ll let you know.”

“Look at this,” Anna says as Jeanette, Marta, and Kara cluster around her. We’ve finished gym. Fresh out of the showers and in the changing rooms. Anna is holding up a thin silver chain with a silver pendant dangling off it. “Just because. That’s what he said.”

It’s like partying all night with people you hate and bypassing home to go straight to your job so you can work all day with more people you hate.

And never stopping.

“Ooh, my God,” Jeanette says softly, cupping it in her palm. Anna grins, beside herself with squeally-girl joy. “You know what that means, right? Sex.”

And it does, too. I have something similar abandoned in a jewelry box at home. And the five of us talked about what that meant when Josh gave it to me then. This is a special kind of hell—listening to my ex-best friend wax about fucking my ex-boyfriend. I get dressed as slowly as possible so I can avoid walking down the hall with them, but it’s a give-and-take. I have to listen to this stupid babbling until they go.

I stare at Anna until she notices and sets the necklace back against her neck. I can’t resist: “Doesn’t it bother you at all that whatever you do with Josh, I did first?”

“Anything you do, I do better.”

“There’s a learning curve,” I tell her.

“Go to hell.”

“Oh, I’m there.”

“Speaking of hell,” Marta interjects, “has anyone seen Donnie lately? He’s lost like, twenty pounds. He looks like a piece of shit.”

“He must be good enough for you now, Kara,” I say, pulling on my pants. “Maybe he’s desperate enough to have you.”

“I wouldn’t touch your castoffs with a thirty-foot pole,” she snaps. “I have some standards.”

There’s always something amazing about watching people fuck themselves over. We all realize what Kara’s said at the exact same moment. Anna’s jaw drops, and Kara’s face goes from peach to pale in two seconds flat. If I could guarantee she did something this stupid every day, getting up in the morning would be infinitely easier.

“What did you say?”

Kara spews apologies. They dribble from her mouth and fall on deaf ears.

“Anna, I’m sorry—I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry—”

“Because Josh is Regina’s castoff, isn’t he, so—”

“I’m sorry! That was at Regina, it wasn’t at you—”

“Fuck off, Kara.”

Silence. This is the kind of silence that used to make me so uncomfortable and queasy to be in the middle of and grateful to not be on the receiving end of.

I like it today.

The rest of the girls get dressed quietly and leave when the bell rings. I pull my shirt on and then I leave, too. As soon as I step into the busy halls, I feel weight, pressure. My chest tightens and it’s, like—grief. Everywhere.

I pull the collar of my shirt into my mouth and bite and try to get through the moment. I don’t know that I can get through this moment.

I need to see who I’m doing this for.

I stake out Michael’s locker. He’s been avoiding me and hanging out with Liz, which makes sense. I’ve only glimpsed him in the halls, and I can’t stare at him at lunch too long because Anna gets off on it when I do, and I’m afraid he’ll look back and I will finally break. After a couple minutes, he shows. He looks as unaffected as he always does, and I try to talk myself out of this loss, but I can’t. I hope he’s angry. I hope he hates me, because then he can have that and it’ll carry him through.

“That’s really obvious,” a voice says beside me.

I close my eyes briefly. “Go away, Josh.”

“Anna told me to tell you.” He points down the hall, where Anna’s with Bruce and Kara and Marta and Jeanette. She smiles and waves. “You’re being really obvious.”

Michael looks up and spots us both. I swallow down the bile making its way up my throat and turn to Josh. “Nice necklace you gave Anna. I totally still have mine. That means sex, right?”

Josh scratches the back of his neck. “And I’m totally not comfortable having this conversation with my ex-girlfriend. And why the hell should you care? At least I waited until after we broke up before I decided to screw other people.”

“Fuck you.”

“Anyway, the lady beckons.” He takes me by the arm and forces me down the hall, smiling at Anna as we approach. As soon as he’s close enough, he moves away from me, wraps his arm around her, and gives her a light kiss on the lips. Barf.

“Dad’s-out-of-town-Thursday,” he says, kissing her between words. She’s putty in his hands. “I’ve restocked. It’s short notice and I’d rather it be a weekend, but this is our only chance, and the weather’s supposed to be good, so…party. My house.”

“I like the way you think.” She grins.

Josh turns to the hall, projecting his voice and silencing the idle chatter around us. “Party at my house Thursday. Got that?” He points to a pair of juniors. “Get the word out. Last one this season.” He turns back to Anna and kisses her on the nose. “You will be there, of course.”

“Of course.” She giggles. He smiles and marches down the hall, the boys trailing after him. They stop to tell anyone who’s someone about the party.

Anna turns to us, and she has this stupid, stupid look on her face. “Oh, my God, I can’t wait.” And then it’s like, this group squeal that I don’t take part of. She notices this and takes offense. “Oh, and Regina? You’re coming. Designated driver.”

Kara snickers. “Try not to get almost raped this time, okay?”

Die. They laugh. The bell rings. We make our way down the hall, jostling through the crowd until we reach the top of the stairs. She has to die.

“Watch it,” Kara says, jamming her elbow into my side.

I don’t even think about it: My foot slips in front of hers, sending her tumbling down the stairs. A shocked noise passes my lips. I can’t believe I did it, but I’m glad I did, until her fall is interrupted by a group of stair-loitering freshman. I stand at the top of the stairs and watch Anna, Marta, and Jeanette rush to her. I read Kara’s lips: I’m fine, I’m fine. She shrugs them off and looks my way. She knows.