Scarlet ran across the wide stone plaza and up the series of steps to the front doors of her school. As she did, she clutched her light, fall jacket to herself. She wish she’d worn something warmer; just a few days ago, it was like 70, but now, it felt more like 50. October was so unpredictable, she thought. Especially now, at the end, with just a few days before Halloween. She made a mental note in her head that when she got home, she would have to go down to the basement and switch out her late summer wardrobe for her fall one.
Scarlet glanced over her shoulder as she grabbed the front doors, hoping her mom had left. It was so embarrassing, her sitting there like that, watching her, as if she were still in second grade. She cringed as she saw her mom still watching. She hoped that no other kids were watching this, especially given that the school was empty, everyone already in class. She felt so conspicuous.
She didn’t really blame her mom for watching her like that, and felt sorry she had scared her—but at the same time she just wanted to put it behind her. Her mom worried too much, and she just wanted her to realize that she was fine, that she was always fine. That even though she was just 16, she was basically a grown woman now, independent, and more than capable of handling herself.
Scarlet burst through the front doors and ran down the hall, her footsteps echoing, her sneakers squeaking on the brightly-polished tile. Her heart raced as she glanced down at her watch and realized second period was almost over. She was so embarrassed: it looked like she’d have to enter class with just a few minutes left; she could already feel the stares. But she didn’t have much choice. She couldn’t exactly hang out and wait in the hall, especially with the hall monitors patrolling. And she did want to at least make an appearance and maybe grab the homework assignment for the night.
As she hurried down the hall, she wondered once again about what exactly had happened the day before. It really freaked her out, what her parents had told her, that she’d left the house; she couldn’t remember that at all. She put on a brave face for everyone, telling them she was fine—and she did feel fine. But inwardly, she was terrified. She was so nervous that she had no memory of it, of where she might’ve gone. It was terrifying, also, to wake up in the hospital like that. It really shook her. She couldn’t stop obsessing over the black hole in her consciousness, over where she went, what she might’ve done, why they couldn’t find her for so long. Had she done anything stupid? Had she seen any of her friends? Had she seen Blake? Why couldn’t she remember?
Scarlet felt her cheeks flush as she suddenly recalled what her mom had said: that they’d called the police—and even worse, that they’d called her friends. How mortifying. Who did they call exactly? What did they say? And how would she face everyone? What would all her friends think? And how would she explain it to everyone? She didn’t even really understand what had happened herself.
This day would not be easy, she realized, as she neared the classroom door. There’d be a lot of questioning—and she didn’t have any answers.
Scarlet finally reached the end of what felt like the longest hall in the school, came to the last door, and grabbed the knob. She braced herself and took a deep breath, clutching her books in one hand, and opened it.
“The algorithm for a triangle that does not exceed—”
Her math teacher stopped writing on the chalkboard, and turned and looked at her. Every other kid in the class looked up at her, too. There were about 30 kids in here, the most boring math class Scarlet had ever had, and luckily, she wasn’t friends with most of them.
But there were a few girls in the back that she was friends with, including her best friend, Maria. Scarlet was relieved to see that Maria had kept her seat open for her. Maria was like a sister to her, like the sister she never had; they had known each other since childhood, and were hardly ever apart. Hispanic, with long, brown curly hair and brown eyes, Maria looked a bit, Scarlet always thought, like a young Jennifer Lopez. She was always there for Scarlet when she needed her, and Scarlet was always there for her, too.
But also in the back of the room, Scarlet noticed with dread, were two of the mean, popular girls, including her arch-enemy, Vivian. Scarlet got along with almost everyone—with one exception. Vivian. Five foot nine, with perfectly straight blonde hair, mean blue eyes and a perfect chin and nose, Vivian strutted around the school as if she owned it. A year older than Scarlet, 17, one of the oldest girls in the class, she looked down on everyone. She always wore some kind of variation on a silk blouse, with a small necklace of real, shining pearls. She had pearl earrings to match, and always had perfectly manicured fingernails, in some shade of pink. As beautiful as she was on the outside, she was equally ugly on the inside: she never missed a single opportunity to giggle at someone else, to make fun of them, to take advantage of any moment of weakness.
As Scarlet took another step, right on cue, Vivian let out a loud, mean giggle. That giggle spurred several others to giggle with her, mostly her little group of mean friends. It made a bad situation for Scarlet even worse.
“Sorry I’m late,” Scarlet said to the professor, who was still looking at her with wonder.
“You’re more than late,” he snapped. “The class is almost over. I can’t mark you tardy—I’m going to have to mark you absent.”
“Fine,” Scarlet snapped back at him, then turned and strutted down the aisle, taking the empty seat next to Maria. She hated this math teacher. He was as mean as he was boring. Sometimes she wondered if he and Vivian were distant cousins.
Math was her least favorite subject anyway. She loved to work hard, but if she wasn’t interested, she found it really hard to find the motivation. Her favorite class, by far, was English. She loved to read, and lately, she was finding she loved to write, as well. And her English teacher, Mr. Sparrow, was as nice to her as could be. The complete opposite of this math jerk.
The teacher cleared his throat loudly, conspicuously.
“As I was saying,” he snapped, “when you’re dealing with a triangle, the equation between…”
“What happened?” Maria whispered, the second Scarlet took her seat.
Scarlet looked around, waiting for everyone to stop looking at her. Finally, they all turned back to their notes. All, of course, except Vivian: she stared at Scarlet, a condescending smile on her face, as cold as ice. Vivian then leaned over and whispered in her friend’s ear, who put her hand to her mouth and giggled. Scarlet could only wonder what she’d said.
“Nothing,” Scarlet whispered back to Maria. Scarlet hated hiding anything from her, but she really didn’t want talk about it—especially not here, with the teacher waiting to pounce.
Scarlet suddenly felt a vibration in her pocket. She looked down, glanced around to make sure no one was looking, and slid up her cell phone, holding it under her desk. She looked down.
U ok?
It was from Maria.
Scarlet saw Maria furtively holding her phone under her desk with one hand, texting with her thumb, and pretending to take notes while she stared at the blackboard.
Scarlet smiled. She copied Maria, raising one hand and pretending to take notes, while with her thumb, she typed back:
Am fine. Thx.
Scarlet had just hit the send button, when suddenly, the bell rang out.
“Okay class, don’t forget, I want chapter three read by tomorrow. And our first quiz is Friday!” the teacher yelled out over the din, as all the kids jumped up, collected their stuff, and headed to the door.
Scarlet got up, collected her things, and walked with Maria out the room.
“OMG, what happened?” Maria asked immediately, barely able to contain herself. “Like, your aunt Polly called me last night. Said they couldn’t find you.”
Scarlet’s heart raced, as she debated how to respond. She didn’t want to lie—especially to Maria, who she never held anything back from. But at the same time, she really didn’t know what to say, and she needed to diffuse the situation.
“Yeah, they like totally overreacted,” she said, thinking quick. “I just went out for a few hours, I forgot my phone, and they couldn’t find me.”
Scarlet was a bad liar, and wondered if Maria bought it.
“But I heard this morning you were like in the hospital or something,” Maria replied skeptically.
Scarlet’s heart pounded. That was the downside of living in a small town; she couldn’t escape this.
“Yeah…um…well….I got like really sick yesterday after school, and they made me get checked out. But I’m fine.”
“Okay, cool,” Maria said, and Scarlet felt relieved as it seemed her friend might put it to rest.
They blended out into the loud and crowded hallway, and as they did, Scarlet’s sense of dread deepened. She wondered who else would interrogate her, and started to wonder again where she’d actually gone during that time. What if she’d seen one of her friends? What if one of her friends asked her about something she did? Something she couldn’t remember? What excuse could she give then?
The halls grew more and more crowded as classes emptied out from every direction. Scarlet and Maria headed down the hall, and as they went, two more of their close friends spotted them and hurried over. They were looking at her in an odd way, and Scarlet braced herself for the questions.
“OMG, what happened to you?” Jasmin asked, hurrying up to her. Black, petite, and filled with energy, Jasmin was one of Scarlet’s two other closest friends. At five foot one, with short black hair and large green eyes, Jasmin appeared to be small and frail—but she was actually tough as nails, and prided herself on not being pushed around by anyone and never taking no for an answer. She was fearless, and she always inspired Scarlet, who sometimes wished she could be half as fearless as her. Scarlet loved her, but she could be gossipy, and she never seemed to be able to stop talking. “I heard like, you went missing,” she continued. “Like your aunt like called me and I heard the cops were at your place!”
“You OK?” Becca asked.
Scarlet’s other friend, Becca, the fourth member of their group, was tall, big-boned, slightly heavyset, with wavy blonde hair. She wasn’t quite as attractive as the others, but she had a big heart, was smart as could be, and was a champion soccer player and one of Scarlet’s closest friend on the team. She’d also had a steady boyfriend for the last two years, unlike the rest of them. Jasmin was dating someone, too, although only for a few months. Which left Scarlet and Maria—conspicuously—without boyfriends. Maria had just broken up with hers, and Scarlet was hoping Blake would be her boyfriend—though she wasn’t sure if he felt the same.
The four of them were nearly inseparable throughout the school day, always finding each other in the hallways—and then usually hanging out at each other’s houses after school, too. Maria was her best friend, though, like a true sister, and the two of them were usually IM-ing or video-chatting when they weren’t actually together. Scarlet had other friends, too, but none as close as these three. Their little group wasn’t the most popular in the school, but it wasn’t the least popular either. They were pretty much average, well-liked, as they were nice to everyone and never made anyone feel left out.
Which was the polar opposite of Vivian’s large group of mean girls, that definitely sat at the top of the popularity ranking in the school. Vivian, their ringleader, had at least six friends around her at all times. These girls were always the prettiest, dressed in the most expensive, designer labels, wore the nicest jewelry, carried the nicest bags, always sported the latest line of shoes—and were all cheerleaders. They all seemed to date the hottest guys, the best athletes, and to live in the biggest, nicest houses. They were also always the ones at the center of any school social event, always hosting or organizing the biggest and coolest parties, or anything social the school had to offer.
As if all this weren’t enough for them, these girls never seemed happy unless they were also picking on someone else. They had various targets, all throughout the grade, and each of the seven seemed to home in on someone else. Individually, they were annoying—but as a group, they were unbearable, always clustering together and giggling, whispering and pointing, like a pack of hyenas. One never knew exactly what they were talking about, but from their body and facial expressions, it was pretty obvious it wasn’t nice.
And God help you if you got in their direct path, if you became a direct rival to any one of them—whether it was in sports, or social situations—or most of all, with boys. Then they would all turn on you like a pack of wolves, and be absolutely determined to make your life in school a living hell.
This was something that Scarlet was just beginning to realize, firsthand, since she had taken an interest in Blake—and especially since they’d gone to the movies the other night. Scarlet had had no idea that Vivian liked Blake, too. Now, she found out the hard way.
In the past, Vivian had always been naturally snotty to Scarlet—but now she stared her down at every turn, and made sure her girlfriends did, too. Now, Scarlet was a direct threat. Of course, it wasn’t Scarlet’s fault—Blake wasn’t dating Vivian, and as far as Scarlet could tell, he wasn’t even really that interested in her. But that didn’t stop Vivian from blaming Scarlet.
Scarlet braced herself as she spotted Vivian’s pack at the far end of the hall. She at least took comfort in her three friends surrounding her, which would shield her from some of their animosity. But despite this, and the distance, she could already spot Vivian whispering and pointing towards Scarlet—and as she did, the group turned as one towards her.
“Hello? So like what happened?” Jasmin pressed. “We’re still waiting.”
Scarlet realized she hadn’t answered their questions.
“Um, sorry…” she said. “It was really no big deal. I just like got sick, and then I went out for a while and lost my phone, and my mom freaked out. Sorry.”
“OMG, my mom does that all the time. So embarrassing,” Becca chimed in.
Scarlet was visibly relieved to hear her say that. They were buying it.
“But I heard you were like in the hospital or something?” Jasmin pressed.
“Look guys, it was really no big deal,” Scarlet said, more firmly. “I’m totally fine. Everyone just over-reacted. Please, can we just talk about something else?” Scarlet pleaded, hearing the stress in her own voice. She didn’t mean to snap, but she really wanted them to change the subject. She was also dreading one of them telling her that they spotted her somewhere yesterday, doing something that Scarlet couldn’t even remember herself. She hoped and prayed that wasn’t the case.
“Well, I’m stressing out,” Maria said, “because the dance is in like two days, and I still don’t have a date.”
Thankfully, as always, she came to Scarlet’s rescue and changed the subject. Scarlet was relieved. Yet, at the same time, she had changed the topic to one that was even more stressful: Friday’s dance. The big Halloween Ball. Every year, there was a big outdoor dance down on the football field, and the school had a huge bonfire and marshmallow roast. It was the kiss of death to show up without a date. You could get away with it as a freshman, or as a sophomore, but definitely not as a junior or senior. And being a junior, the pressure was really on Scarlet this year.
“Who you bringing?” Jasmin asked. “Blake?” She was clearly trying to pull information out of her. “You never told us what happened on your date!”
Scarlet sighed. This day was going from bad to worse.
“Come on, stop holding back!” Becca said.
Jasmin said Blake’s name way too loudly, and had done so at the worst possible moment—right as they were passing the cluster of mean girls. Scarlet looked at Vivian and saw her expression change to a scowl. Clearly, the mention of Blake’s name had struck her hard. She could feel the hatred coming off of her.
Scarlet looked away; at least she had safety in numbers.
“Nice shoes,” came a snarky voice behind her, followed by a chorus of giggles. It was Vivian’s voice, of course.
Scarlet looked down and realized her flats were covered in mud stains. She flushed with embarrassment. Somehow, somewhere, maybe yesterday, she must have ran in the mud. The morning had been such a blur, she hadn’t even checked.
“Nice life,” Jasmin turned and shot back at Vivian.
Scarlet was so grateful for Jasmin’s sticking up for her, and at that moment, she loved her more than ever. But at the same time, she really didn’t want to spark a huge confrontation. She just wanted this day to move on.
“At least I have one,” Vivian snapped back.
“At least she has a boyfriend,” Maria snapped back. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot: you don’t. Was it supposed to be Blake?”
Scarlet glanced back and saw Vivian’s face turn a shade of purple. She was apoplectic. It was obvious that Maria had hit her with the lowest blow of all.
Scarlet was mortified. She hated Vivian, but she definitely didn’t want to provoke her like that—especially since she didn’t even know if she and Blake were officially dating. She’d made a mistake the other night when she introduced him to her family as her boyfriend—but she had been caught off guard by all of them there, and got nervous, and it just blurted out. She was encouraged he hadn’t corrected her—but also nervous that maybe by announcing it like that she might have pushed him away, with too much too soon—especially since they hadn’t talked about it. They’d only been on a few dates, and she still wasn’t really sure where they stood.
But here her friends were, announcing in front of everyone that Blake was her boyfriend and not Vivian’s. It made Scarlet more nervous than ever that this could put Blake on the spot and drive him away; because even though their date was great, she still wasn’t really sure how Blake really felt about her. And a part of her was worried that Blake might actually like Vivian—that rubbing it in her face like this might put her into overdrive and force her to do all she could to try to steal Blake away for good.
“Please guys,” Scarlet said, grabbing Maria’s shoulder and guiding her away, ushering them down the hall.
They turned the corner and reached their lockers, and Scarlet hurried over to hers, quickly opening the lock, throwing her books in and taking out other books she needed. The inside of her locker was covered with cutouts from magazines, a huge collage of pictures that she loved.
Scarlet sighed, trying to gather her thoughts. This day was already ridiculous. It was like a whirlwind. She just wanted to get home, get into bed, curl up with a book, Ruth by her side, and not think about any of this. She felt like she was in a white-hot spotlight, and just wanted to get out of it.
The bell rang, and as Scarlet closed her locker she spotted Blake. Her heart beat faster. He was standing at his locker, about ten rows away. He still hadn’t noticed her.
“Go talk to him,” whispered Jasmin, gently prodding her back.
That was the prod that Scarlet needed. Without thinking, she took a few steps his way. Her heart was racing.
They’d had such a nice night at the movies. Blake had bought her popcorn and had walked her home, like a gentleman. Scarlet had wondered if he was going to kiss her, and for a moment it seemed like he would. But then it seemed like he’d gotten nervous, and at the last second he kissed her on the cheek instead.
It left Scarlet wondering if he was really into her. Apparently, Scarlet discovered later, he had texted her the following day—but of course, that was the day, of all days, that she had to get sick and go AWOL. She was suddenly flooded with panic as she just realized she’d never replied to his text. Now he must think she’d blown him off.
“Hey,” she said, and could hear her own voice trembling.
A few feet away, he turned and looked at her. For a moment, his eyes lit up with joy; but then they clouded over with something like confusion, or hesitation. She couldn’t tell what.
“Hey,” he said back, sounding surprised. “Are you okay?”
Scarlet felt herself flush.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I heard you were like missing or something.”
“No, just my mom freaking out,” Scarlet said, putting on her best smile. “Parents.”
Blake nodded, and slowly smiled. But his expression was inscrutable, and she couldn’t tell if he bought it or not. He stood there kind of silent, not igniting any more conversation. She began to worry.
“I texted you yesterday,” he said.
Scarlet’s heart pounded. He was upset about that.
“Yeah I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t have my phone all day,” she said.
But she feared he might think she was lying. Who didn’t have their phone on them all day? She hoped he believed her.
“Well yeah, that’s cool,” he said, sounding noncommittal.
They stood there in silence, and it was getting awkward. On the one hand, she sensed that he liked her; on the other, he seemed unsure, maybe still hurt about the text. She wanted to make things right, but she didn’t know how. Most of all, she wanted to go to the dance with him on Friday—and really wanted him to ask her, and for it to be official that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Especially before Vivian could try anything.
Scarlet stood there, silently willing for him to say the words: Will you go to the dance with me on Friday? She imagined the sound of his voice, his expression as he asked it.
But as they stood, there was just more silence. She felt herself filling with dread.
The bell rang again, and kids began to disperse in every direction. Scarlet’s heart sank, as she sensed he was about to head off to class.
But to her surprise, he didn’t leave. Instead, he stood there, even as everyone else was swarming around him. He cleared his throat.
“So…um…are you like going to the dance on Friday?” he asked.
Scarlet’s heart swelled with relief. It was a huge moment for her, the moment she finally realized he liked her. She heard the shaking in his voice and she realized that he was just nervous. Just like her.
“Well, I—” she began.
“There you are,” came the voice.
Scarlet wanted to die. There, in front of her, appeared Vivian, slithering up to Blake, wrapping one arm around his.
Blake looked over at her, surprised, ambivalent, clearly unsure how to react.
“I have something really important to talk to you about,” Vivian said. “Will you walk me to class?”
Blake stood there, looking back and forth between Vivian and Scarlet, looking trapped, like a deer in the headlights. He looked like he didn’t know what to do.
Scarlet could hardly blame him. Vivian stood there, looking so tall, so gorgeous, so perfect, in her perfect makeup and tight-fitting clothes, like a real-life Barbie doll. Beside her, Scarlet felt inadequate. She didn’t have her money, or her clothes, or her style, or her perfect, flawless looks. How could she blame Blake for not saying no?
At the same time, Scarlet wanted to scream. Why now, of all times? Why did this creature seem to plague her at every turn? It was almost too much for her to bear. Vivian had everything. Couldn’t she just let Scarlet have Blake?
“Um…okay I guess,” Blake said to her.
Scarlet examined Blake, looking for any signs of his disliking Vivian. But she couldn’t tell; he seemed on the fence, as if he were split right down the middle between Vivian and Scarlet. And that, more than anything, broke Scarlet’s heart.
“I guess we’ll talk later,” he muttered to Scarlet, sounding apologetic as Vivian literally dragged him away.
In moments, the two of them were walking away, down the hall. As they went, Vivian turned and looked back at Scarlet with a mean, victorious smile.
Scarlet stood there and watched them disappear and as she did, she felt her whole world sinking out from under her. She felt as if she had just lost Blake for good.
