siobhan vivian - not that kind of girl (17 page)

I stayed home sick the next day, thinking it might temper things down. In fact, the opposite happened. Without me there, no one had to whisper.

Friday was the most awful day of my whole life. It started with Connor walking up to my locker. I got there really early to avoid people. But he'd gotten there earlier. "Please," I told him. "Leave me alone. I don't want anyone to see us talking." He looked like he hadn't slept, in the same way I hadn't slept. He looked haunted, in the same way I was haunted. He looked mad, in the same way I was devastated. "You are unbelievable," he said, launching right into me. I launched right back. "I told you I didn't want anyone to know what we were doing! And of all people, you told Mike?" "Mike is my best friend. He didn't say anything about it until you tried to get him in trouble! I told you not to get involved."

"Oh, so am I the wrong one here? Mike takes naked photos of a fourteen-year-old girl and spreads them to the whole school, and I'm the one who did something wrong? Is that what you're saying?" "No. Believe me. I want to kill Mike right about now. It's just that..." "What? It's just that what?" "Look, I wish he hadn't done it. I really wish he hadn't." "And I wish that Spencer had kept her freaking boobs covered up. But I also wish you wouldn't protect Mike, and I wish that the whole school didn't think I'm a slut. I trusted you to keep it between us, and you didn't. You let everyone into our private world. I thought you cared enough about me to never let that happen." It was the first time I'd seen him so angry. His forehead crinkled up, and one vein became really prominent. He had his hands clenched. But I was just as mad. Madder, even. "I never wanted any of this. In fact, I never wanted anything to do with you! I knew that you--" "Save it, Sterling. I'm not going to force you to stoop to my level." He said the last part sarcastic. "I told you we needed to keep things quiet from the very beginning. So don't make me out to be the bad person here. It's my reputation that's been damaged. Everyone's laughing at me, not you!" I was screaming, shaking. How could Connor not see? He escaped from this whole thing unscathed. He had another notch in his belt. But me, I was a joke. "I'm sorry. I know everything sucks for you right now. But can't you see that's your own fault." I laughed. "You're really great at this cheering up stuff. Thanks so much for making me feel better." "You're the one who made it seem like we were doing something wrong. Maybe you still feel like that, because for whatever reason, you think I'm not good enough for you. But I like you, okay? I've liked you from the very beginning." "It was never going to go anywhere." "Because you wouldn't let it go anywhere. Look, I know you've got a million and one reasons. I hear you. Most of them are true. We're probably not going to be a couple after graduation. You'll leave Liberty River, and I'll be here. I get it. But you know what? I liked you anyway. I let myself have feelings for you despite not knowing how this would end." He turned like he was going to walk away, but then thought better of it. "I'm done trying to convince you of who I am and why I'm worthy of you. And you can spin that however you want. Go ahead and make me the bad guy, so you can be the good girl. Except deep down, I know that you don't believe that's the way things are for a second." "It's too late," I whispered. To him? To myself? I wasn't sure. He heard. "It's only too late because you're saying it's too late." I said it again. "It's too late." It was only after he was gone that I started to cry. It was only when everyone else started showing up for school that I felt completely alone. It was crazy, the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Their looks actually felt heavy; they made it hard for me to pick up my legs. I thought about Autumn, and how I thought I'd protected her from this. But I didn't have a clue what it was really like, how terribly cruel and mean and judgmental people could be. I ran to the girls' bathroom near the teacher's lounge, for an escape. I cried right there at the sink. I felt pathetic, student council president turned closet slut. It was too perfect--the kind of story that people loved to tell. I had to accept this. As much as I wanted to blame Mike and Connor and Spencer, it was my fault I was in this situation. I'd known better than to get involved with someone like Connor. I'd known the risks, and I'd done it anyway. Except that what everyone thought of me didn't even come close to how badly I thought of myself. I grabbed a paper towel and wiped my face. It was so rough, like sandpaper. My whole face was red and blotchy and swollen. I ducked my head and splashed it with some cold water. When the faucet was turned off, I heard a voice, unmistakable, through the vents over my head. Ms. Bee. "I didn't think she was that kind of girl." I scampered up onto the ledge and strained to listen. "I overheard two of my students talking about her in homeroom yesterday. I would have never thought Natalie would do something like that. Then again, she's been acting out big-time. Fraternizing with that Spencer girl." I closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning. What would have ever made me think that teachers wouldn't hear about this, too? After all, it was all over the school. Another teacher agreed. "Natalie always seemed like such a nice girl." But I am a nice girl, I wanted to scream. "I know. That's the worst thing. I thought she was something special. I put a lot of my own time and attention into her for nothing." Ms. Bee sighed a deep, painful sigh. "And Connor Hughes, of all people. You'd think she'd be smarter than that. I feel heartbroken over the whole thing." I had to get out of that bathroom, or else I was going to puke. I wanted to defend myself, but I knew Ms. Bee was right. I should have been smarter. I should have been a lot of things. I had always known what kind of girl I was...until I didn't. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE I'd hoped that the weekend would have made everything blow over, but of course it didn't. People were still talking about me on Monday. Rightfully so, I supposed. By Monday after school, it was clear what I needed to do. I spent my lunch period in my car, working on my letter of resignation for Ms. Bee. In the first draft, I said way too much. About how disappointed in myself I was. The whole big long sorry story of me and Autumn. How I'd messed up with Connor. I poured my heart out. You could tell by the tearstains and the terrible penmanship. Except when I reread it, it made me sick. I was groveling for her forgiveness. I was making excuses, when really, I had no one to blame but myself. It was childish. And I knew Ms. Bee would think so, too. I made my next draft a single sentence long. Though it has been a pleasure working with you, I hope you'll accept my resignation effective immediately. Sincerely, Natalie Sterling

I slipped it under her office door. I'd thought resigning would make me feel better. It didn't.

After school, I went to my locker. The agenda for today's student council meeting was to finalize plans for the ceremony when my portrait would be hung on the library wall, and to address and mail the invitations Ms. Bee had printed. I'd quit just in time so the event could be canceled. I got my books, closed my locker door, and there was Spencer, holding my resignation letter. "What the hell is this, Natalie?" "Where'd you get that?" I snatched it out of her hands. "Where do you think? I went to Ms. Bee's office to hand in assignments from my suspension. I saw you sliding it under her door. Thank God I scooped it up before she found it." I could have strangled her. "Do you have any idea what you've done? They're mailing the portrait ceremony invitations today. Now I look even more irresponsible for not showing up!" Spencer was unmoved. "You can't quit student council, Natalie. You're the president!" "I can too," I said, and stormed down the hall. Spencer kept pace. "Natalie, you were right. What I did with Mike was stupid. I wanted to pretend like I didn't care. And you know what? Before you, I wouldn't have cared. But now I do." "I'm very happy for you." "And here's what else I know." She grabbed my arm and made me look at her. "You stuck up for me when no one else would. And you did the same thing for Autumn. Which begs the question...When will you start sticking up for yourself?" I shook my head. "It's not that easy, Spencer! I can't even look at Ms. Bee, never mind everyone else at school. I actually had to hear Ms. Bee in the bathroom, saying the most awful things about me. And they were true, Spencer. They were all true." "They are not, and you know it. Quit feeling sorry for yourself." "I do feel sorry for myself! I'm mortified. You were right, okay? I built myself up to this impossible standard and I failed. I failed miserably." "That's fine, so long as it's your judgment and not someone else's." "All right. I'll just magically forget that the entire school thinks I'm a hypocritical slut and answer to myself. Hmm. Let's see. I've messed everything up with Connor. With Autumn. With Ms. Bee. With you." Even though I was trying to be sarcastic, tears filled my eyes. "So that's the problem? Not the sex." I had to think about it for a second. Sure, the reality that everyone at Ross Academy was judging what I'd done with Connor felt awful. But that wasn't what made my heart break. "No. It's not the sex." I sighed. "It's that I've hurt the people I love. I've let everyone down." Spencer took back my resignation letter and ripped it in half. "I won't let you give up on something I know you still care about." I took a deep breath to say something, but stopped. In fact, in that moment, I stopped everything. I stopped thinking about what the rest of the school thought. I stopped worrying about making Ms. Bee proud. I stopped thinking about Mike Domski's taunts and the look on my parents' faces as they trusted me. I turned off all that noise to ask myself one simple question: What really matters here? And it's by asking the question that I found the answer. CHAPTER FORTY I ran outside, hoping Autumn hadn't left school yet. I found her in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of her car with Marci and a bunch of other girls. They had the windows unrolled so they could hear her radio. She was happy, smiling. I tried to be brave and put one foot in front of the other. It was like I was walking into a thick, heavy wind. Each step was labor. Everyone saw me approach. They got quiet and watched me struggle. I stopped feet from the bumper. The headlights were on, and I squinted into the spotlight. The winter wind whipped my hair into my mouth when I opened it. I coughed, and the squeeze it put over my body didn't let go. I couldn't breathe, like the icy air was freezing me from the inside out. "Natalie," Autumn said, springing to her feet. I heard the worry in her voice. She still cared for me, not that I deserved it. It felt like a dream, one too good for the nightmare life I'd been living. It was cruel, to have a moment of what our friendship once had been. A reminder of what I'd royally screwed up. I cried, because I didn't want to wake up. Autumn didn't say good-bye to her friends. Or maybe she did, and I couldn't hear her over my sobbing. She put me in her car, and I watched them walk off in another direction. "I'm taking you home," Autumn announced, and climbed in the other side. I cried the whole way. Autumn helped me out of the car and walked me up the driveway. I leaned on her with all my weight, because I couldn't hold myself up. I mustered enough breath to say, "This is turning out to be a terrible apology," while Autumn found the spare key to our back door. "It's okay," Autumn said. And the miracle was: As soon as she said it, things felt okay. Like I was getting where I needed to be. When I'd run out of tears, Autumn and I sat on opposite ends of my bed, like it was a scale or a seesaw. I was still mustering up exactly what to say to her when she dropped a stone on my side. "You never forgave me for what happened with Chad." It wasn't so much the biting accusation of someone scorned as much as it was delivered in the calculated speak of a lawyer. An indisputable fact. "I know," I said. "I was mad at you for getting hurt. I shouldn't have blamed you. It wasn't your fault." Her bottom lip started to quiver. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. "When I went to see Chad that day in the locker room, there was this little voice in my head, telling me not to go. But I didn't listen to it. And that wasn't the first time I'd heard it, either. There were other times. Lots of other times. I can't explain it, but I think I knew deep down that Chad was no good. But I was too caught up in everything, how the fact that a boy liked me made me feel, that I thought I was in love with him." "But Autumn, you couldn't have known that--" "I've thought about this a million times. If I only would have listened to that voice, maybe none of that stuff would have happened to me. It was a lot of guilt to carry, on top of everything else. So I made a promise to myself that if I ever heard it again, I wouldn't shut it off. I think that's part of why I freaked out on you. Because that voice finally came back to me and told me that I was better than Fish Sticks. That I shouldn't hold myself back anymore. That I wasn't a bad person. And you were making me feel like a bad person, Natalie, when I was really just a girl who'd made a stupid mistake." I nodded. "And I used that to keep you close to me. I had no other friends--and that's not your fault. It was mine. I've never been good at opening up to people." "I know. Which makes what happened even more weird." She sighed. "I'm not saying this to be mean, but...I can't believe you had sex with Connor Hughes." I thought about Connor and his last words to me. How I could spin things any way I'd wanted. I could never understand how he always seemed sure of himself. But now I did. It was because Connor really did know what kind of person he was. He had no regrets because he always shot from his heart. He was the total opposite of someone like Chad Rivington. Or me. "I wanted to," I told Autumn. It was the naked truth. "Well, you're a smart girl, and I trust that you're going to make the right decisions for yourself." "Yeah, because I'm the queen of right decisions." Autumn took my hand. "You see, the best thing about wrong decisions is that they don't prevent you from making the right decisions later on. It's harder, but it's not impossible." Time had taught her. And now she was teaching me. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE Did I regret having sex with Connor? A little. But it wasn't close to the earth-shattering regret I'd expected to feel. If anything, I regretted screwing up a beautiful moment because I was too messed up to see it as a good thing we'd done together, to see it as something shared by two people who really cared about each other. The snow was falling steadily as I drove to Connor's house, tiny flakes like confetti. My windshield wipers swished across the glass like a metronome. There was traffic all the way up the driveway. A man with a flashlight directed cars to a parking lot. Mostly minivans or SUVs, full of kids with knitted hats and scarves. The Christmas tree farm was crawling with people. The parking guy directing cars, young girls dressed as elves, burly men with saws. The gift shop had Christmas music playing inside and a table set up outside where you could buy hot chocolate or hot apple cider to keep warm. There was even a reindeer in an enclosure that kids were feeding pellets. Families waited for their turn to walk through the trees. I saw Connor leading a family of four through the snow. He only had on a thermal and a ski hat. I was wrapped up in my down parka and wondered how he wasn't freezing, until I saw one of the young boys pick out a tree. Connor grabbed his saw, dropped to his knees, and started to cut it down. He was there on the ground, working so hard. I watched as his muscles flexed. The tree fell against the snow and made the most wonderful sound. The family cheered. Connor tied some twine around the trunk and dragged it back through the snow for them. He saw me then. I hoped he would come right over, but he looked away and kept dealing with the family. He was not going to make this easy on me. I walked over. "Can I please talk to you?" I asked. "I can't right now, Sterling." "Connor. Please." He heard it in my voice, I'm sure. The pain. "All right," he said. He walked us over to the cider table, where his mother sat. "Mom," he said, "I'm going to take a quick break." She looked me over. I couldn't tell if she had recognized me from Thanksgiving morning. But she fixed me a cup of cider and Connor a cup of cocoa, a dollop of freshly made whipped cream on top. Connor and I walked, our collective silence sad, layered over the sounds of families, of trees falling, of holiday music tinkling far away. The moon sat low in the sky, giving off barely enough light to see. We didn't go to the shed. We didn't go to the house. We stayed in the woods, and I told him what I needed to tell him, unsure if it was what he needed to hear. "I want to apologize for how I acted," I said. "I was afraid to get involved with you. I didn't want to admit that I liked you. I was afraid of how it would make me look." "I can't be with someone who doesn't accept me for who I am." "You have to understand, I'm new at this. And we both did things wrong. We got involved before we knew each other. I mean, I thought I knew you. But I didn't. Not really." I tried to take his hand, only he wouldn't let me. He was shivering now, the cold setting in. "Do you regret what we did?" he asked. "Because that's been the worst part of this. Thinking you might hate me over what happened. I went through something like that once, with Bridget Roma. And it was terrible." His voice caught in his throat, and he tipped his head down. I saw tears in his eyes. "Connor, that's not even close to what happened with us." Even though I put every ounce of earnestness I could muster into my words, Connor still seemed uncertain. And he wasn't looking at me. He was focused on the footprints we'd left in the snow. "So where does that leave us now?" he asked. "I want you to come to my portrait ceremony. As my date." He didn't look up. "Really?" "Really." This time when I tried to take his hand, he let me. We stood like that, and for a brief moment, we were the center of the world. I heard his mom calling for him, and he heard it, too. "Go," I said. "Are you sure?" "Yeah. Go. I'll call you later." It felt so easy, and even though it wouldn't always be, we were at least going to try.