Chapter 5
Ezra
I watch her go inside through my rear-view mirror before I fully drive away. And the part I don’t miss? Her picking up my jacket and taking it with her. There must be a tiny part of her that doesn’t hate me as much as she’s letting on. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.
I let my stupid hopes overtake me as I drive home.
Hopes in which I, Ezra Davis, somehow manage to earn her friendship back.
I thought I could make myself forget her.
But after tonight, I realize how dumb that is.
The few words she spoke to me sparked more life in me than I’ve felt in years.
And sure, I have friends. Plenty of them.
But no one has ever gotten me like her, and it makes me sad how accustomed I’ve gotten to the feeling of having a bunch of surface-level companions.
None of the guys on the team wants to hear about anything but basketball, parties, and girls unless it somehow turns into a joke.
Rue never did that. She was the only person who listened, like the things I loved actually mattered.
I miss how she used to tell me exactly how she felt. Tonight was a great reminder of how that felt, even though all she revealed is just how much she hates me now. At least it was real.
I only have two years left at Fallbrook, and if I don’t make this right now, I might lose my chance at getting back the only true friendship I ever had.
When I get home, the house is quiet. Olivia and my parents must be asleep, so I tiptoe upstairs to sneak to my room.
The kitchen light flicks on.
I’m left frozen, mid-tiptoe, as Mom stares at me from behind the kitchen island. She’s holding Chai Guy and petting his soft, tea-colored fur with a smile.
My shoulders relax. “I thought you were Olivia.”
She laughs, warm and bubbly. “The fact that you’re more afraid of your sister than me is insulting.”
“Sorry.” I laugh, too, rubbing my forehead.
“I was just getting Chai some water. Where have you been?”
“Giving Tucker a ride to a party, and then another friend home from the same party.” I internally wince at my use of the word “friend” for Rue. And knowing Mom, she’ll question it because she knows everyone I hang with. Usually I’m grateful to be close with both my parents. Tonight, not so much.
Mom frowns. “Another friend? Who?”
“Um, Rue Sullivan.”
Her frown deepens. “Rue Sullivan? Wow. How is she? I haven’t heard you talk about her in forever.”
“She’s…she’s great, Ma. But I’m tired. Could we talk about this tomorrow?”
She searches my face. “Okay, baby. Goodnight.”
Without another word, I head upstairs to my room and shut the door. I take a deep breath and plop onto my firm mattress. The thick, navy blue comforter is unmade and welcoming, so I undress and toss my clothes to the floor before slipping under.
Taking out my phone, I navigate away from the welcome page of the tech university I’m dying to attend after high school.
When I think about getting that scholarship, I imagine making more than just myself proud, but my parents, too.
Dad is always telling me to man up, usually meaning to stop relying on his favors and handouts.
So, I know he’ll be proud if I get this.
But every time he says it, I also can’t help but hear the moment I failed to man up in the worst way: when Rue needed me to defend her in that hallway, and instead, I said nothing.
I open social media. It’s been at least a year since I looked at Rue’s page.
I scroll until I find a photo of her I’ve seen before.
Thankfully, her profile is public, so I haven’t had to follow her and risk her catching on that I’ve checked her page in the past. The picture that lights up my screen is of Rue at a cafe table.
It’s probably taken by one of her friends.
Meredith, or Mabel, maybe. There’s no way it was taken by Carlton, because if she smiled into the camera at him like that, it would be impossible for him to look away and go for someone else instead.
I love the way her smile looks secretive in this picture, but one of her eyebrows is arched with attitude, like she’s calling out the person behind the camera. She’s wearing a green tank top, and her curly hair is down, parted right down the middle.
I scroll through the rest of her photos, finding some of her in drama club, some with her trusty friend group, and others with that new girl, Dot Bennett.
I even find one of just her and Carlton.
It’s impossible to miss the way she’s gazing at him while he smiles into the camera, like he’s the only guy she’s ever seen.
The dude is overhyped in my opinion, and kind of a player.
But I have no room to judge. My own dating history is a graveyard of short-lived almosts.
It’s just that no relationship feels right to me, and I hate the feeling of stringing girls along when I know it’s not going to last.
I glance over at my desk and see my laptop still open and waiting.
My basketball is also resting on the ground at the foot of my bed.
I was going to either finish playing or shoot some hoops, but after seeing Rue…
there’s no way I can focus on anything. I still can’t believe how Carlton treated her at the party.
Part of me still regrets not going back in there and teaching him a lesson.
Something flashes across my screen and breaks me from my thoughts. I blink through my dark room at the brightness.
And then my eyes widen.
It’s a Little Birdie notification.
No way. Someone’s already been chosen? I thought the app said tomorrow night.
Though I try not to get sucked into gossip, even I can’t deny what a big deal this is. All of Fallbrook has been waiting on the edge of their seats for Little Birdie’s return since it was announced. And now it’s finally here.
The post reads:
Hello, fledglings!
Did you miss me chirping in your ear? I know it’s been a quiet month, but I assure you it shall not be quiet again.
No, your eyes do not deceive you. It really is me, the one and only, but new and improved Little Birdie.
How, you might ask? How could this new bird be better than the last? Well, I’ll tell you!
This faithful flapper caught sight of the massive uproar at the home of Dot Bennett, Fallbrook’s newest It Girl.
Among that uproar, as you might have guessed, was our sweet wallflower Rue Sullivan, and the magnetic Meredith Evans.
Their scuffle was merely verbal, I assure you, but it was still audible to even the weakest of ears.
To the untrained fledgling, one might have thought the two were fighting over Carlton Peters, but the truth is that our quiet friend, Rue, is already taken!
Here’s where the last birdie failed! Never would a random Fallbrook student be mentioned. Not someone unrelated to the dearest drama club. But here I am, covering ALL bases for my darling flock.
Basketball captain, Ezra Davis, was seen with his arm around Rue at Dot’s home and even claimed to be her boyfriend! Could it be true?
You know I’ll find out.
You might be wondering, my dearest flock, why I’d mention someone so far removed from my favorite circle. The truth, my sweet fledglings, is that no one at Fallbrook is safe now.
Sleep tight, my dears. Next week will be full of worms.
Yours Truly,
Little Birdie