Chapter 32
Ididn’t leave my room.
Not even as Saturday passed into Sunday.
Not even as Sunday passed into Monday.
And not even as Monday passed into Tuesday.
Time bled together in a haze of gray light and shadow.
My phone sat dead in my homecoming clutch Mom had gotten from Maisie on my desk, messages unopened, calls ignored.
The world beyond my door continued spinning, but I didn’t belong there anymore—not really.
Every corner of my room felt smaller, the walls pressing closer, reminding me of the weight I couldn’t shrug off.
Jade had laid on this bed. Jade had done my makeup at my vanity. And all of those times, she’d been secretly plotting my downfall. I’d been a pawn in her game all along, kept around while useful, discarded when not. How long had she hated me? Ever since I’d been elected co-captain? Since we met?
But if those thoughts tipped my world one way, there were plenty of others that tipped it in the other direction. You’ll never know who you are until someone tells you.
Was that true? Was my personality borrowed from whoever I attached myself to? Was that why I’d been so quickly able to move past the Peak in High School label, because once I got Logan’s approval, that was all I’d needed?
And then—tipped back the other way. Logan.
I lay limp in my bed, clutching my goose to my chest as though its warmth could keep me from floating into the void of my own self-doubt. Every heartbeat thudded with guilt—for Logan, for the people I’d hurt, for myself.
I’d even tucked the fire-breathing dragon in my drawer. I didn’t deserve even its gaze. I shouldn’t have been holding the goose, but its flimsy body was the only thing that kept me together.
There was a soft knock on my bedroom door, and it was so faint that I almost passed it off as something else entirely. Until the door opened.
“I’ve been in your bedroom more times in the past week than I have been in the past four years,” the voice said, and I jerked my covers off my face. “Crazy, right?”
Maisie stood in the doorway of my bedroom, her socked feet hesitating on the threshold.
Her gaze lifted around every surface except for my bed, as if she was afraid of looking at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, suddenly so totally self-conscious of how horrible I must’ve looked.
I hadn’t brushed my hair in days. And when was the last time I’d brushed my teeth?
She took a hand out from behind her back, and there were a few papers in her grip. “Mrs. Greer asked me to drop off your homework.”
“Why didn’t she just give it to my mom?”
Her eyes darted to the side. “Uh, yeah. Weird, right?”
“Why didn’t you just give it to my mom?” I raised an eyebrow. “She let you in, didn’t she?”
Maisie pursed her lips, still not looking at me. “Sue me for being concerned, I guess.”
A small breath escaped me, a strange tingling blooming in my stomach. It was the first semi-positive sensation I’d felt in days. “I can’t afford the legal fees.”
Maisie snorted at that, and that seemed to break the tension between us. Her dark gaze finally found mine, and after a beat, she came further into my room. “Mind if I open a window?” Her voice was light. “No offense, but it smells like a decaying cheerleader in here.”
It was my turn to choke on a strangled laugh. “Gee, I’m feeling better already.”
“Good.” After setting the homework sheets on the desk, she shoved the window up. “You’ve been playing hooky long enough that Babble’s convinced you switched schools. Or died.”
The mere mention of Babble had my mood deflating. “Oh.”
Maisie came over and sat down on the foot of my bed, drawing her legs up and crossing them underneath her.
The action was so smooth and casual, you’d never have guessed we’d only very recently begun talking again.
It wasn’t until you looked closely at her expression, and could see her shifting eyes behind her glasses, that you’d see her discomfort. “People are just dumb,” she said.
“They’ve been saying a lot of mean things, haven’t they?”
“Ava’s been deleting most of them.”
“She doesn’t have to do that.” I couldn’t remember if she’d ever deleted comments before.
“It’s not just you they’re throwing passes at. Connor’s getting a lot of grief, too.” She sighed. “And so have I. I have now been dubbed The Math Mistress.”
I pressed my lips together. “That’s—not funny.”
Maisie rolled her eyes. “It kind of is.”
I only smiled a little, drawing my goose to my chest. “They all took the side of the Top Tier, huh?”
“Well, you haven’t defended yourself, and Connor hasn’t either, so it’s not their fault for only knowing what the Top Tier says.” Maisie gave me a pointed look.
“What, you’re saying I should write my own article in my defense?”
“I’m saying you hiding out in your bedroom isn’t helping the rumors.”
I looked away from her, toward my closed bedroom door. “It’s not like they’re not true.”
I mean, sure, some of the pictures had been embellished, but the truth was that I had laughed at Riley’s pain once upon a time. I had given Lacey dirty looks before. I had been a bully. Denying it would’ve been a lie.
“So what’s your plan?” Maisie asked, propping her elbow on her knee and leaning her head into her hand. “Stay in bed for the rest of your life?”
“Why do you care?” My question had a bit more bite than I meant for it to, but I didn’t take it back. Instead, I doubled down. “Up until Friday night, you hated me.”
“Because I’m on your side.” Maisie looked up at the ceiling as if pouting. “Even when I hated you, I was always on your side.”
See, I didn’t quite think that was true, but it felt wrong to call her out on it. She’d come all the way over here—surely because of my mother—and saying anything that could’ve been ungrateful was the last thing I wanted. “In the bathroom, Jade said—”
Maisie didn’t even miss a beat. “Why are you listening to what Jade said?”
“Because she—”
“Is a lunatic.”
“Knows me better than anyone,” I finished, knotting my fingers in my duvet cover. “She knew me inside and out.”
Maisie tilted her head, and her voice was gentle. “So doesn’t that mean she knows how to hurt you the most?”
My lips parted. “She said I’m nothing unless someone tells me who to be. And she’s right. She told me to do… what I did… freshman year, and I did it. She told me I needed a boyfriend, and I suddenly needed one. She said I don’t know who to be until I’m told.”
“Life is about letting people shape us, little by little,” Maisie told me, and reached out to nudge my foot underneath the blanket. “But you have to be careful who you let do the shaping.”
No kidding.
“Did you like the way you felt around Logan? Like… did he make you feel like a better person?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”
“Then there’s nothing wrong with letting him do a little shaping.
If you feel like you’re changing for the better, why is that a bad thing?
” Maisie shook the goose foot. “And it’s okay to not know exactly who you are, Mads.
I don’t. Rachel and Ava don’t. Heck, I don’t know a single person who does know who they are one hundred percent.
But while you’re finding out, you keep good people close to you to be a good influence. ”
I’d forgotten just how wise Maisie was. She’d always been this way, even from elementary school. I lifted my eyes to hers. “Like you?”
She gave a little shrug. “Not trying to brag, but…”
I lightly swatted her, and we both laughed.
“You know more about yourself than you think,” she said. “You know you don’t want to hurt people. You know that you want to be a kind person. And you know you like Logan.”
Logan. Even just his name caused a wave of unease to roll over me. “I don’t know how to go back,” I told her, the grin sliding off my face once more. “He went through so much because of me.”
“Because of Jade.”
“But she did it because of me.” Because I’d been voted co-captain. It all stemmed back to me. “And we were only together because of her.”
Maisie looked confused. “And?”
I blinked. “What do you mean, and?”
“Jade has such a good way of getting into your head, Madison. It’s kind of scary.” Maisie stared straight at me. “Who cares if you’re together because of her? That’d be, like, the one good thing she’s ever done.”
“Not if it hurt him in the process.”
“Yeah, but you two genuinely liked each other in the end. That’s a decent consolation prize.
” Then she shook her head. “That sounded terrible. But you have to decide whether or not you want to be with Logan because of how you feel. Not because you’re afraid of what the kids at school will think, not because you’re worried about Logan’s hurt feelings—which may or may not exist, by the way—and definitely not because of Jade Dyer.
If you let her make your mind up for you, you’re still giving her power. ”
Maisie’s words were like a tickle inside me, trying to wake something up. I wanted to believe her, but the weighted blanket that’d covered me these past few days was still too heavy to fully shake off. I squeezed my goose tighter. “I just feel bad about it all.”
“Then you apologize and strive to do better.” Maisie gave her shoulders a bob.
“That’s all you can do. You can’t stop and let everything you regret eat you alive.
You have to keep going, and just decide to do it better next time.
” She paused, tone softening. “And you know, you don’t have to figure it all out today.
Or on your own. You know Ms. Murphy, the school counselor?
She’d probably love to see you in her office tomorrow. ”
A laugh punched out of me, more of an exhale than a chuckle, but my lips still curved for a moment before falling again.
The bits of humor she worked in did worlds to lift my spirits, but it was only a second before another wave of darkness came in—one that’d been hanging over my shoulder for the past four years.
I’d tried running from it, shoving it down, but here it was, finally at the surface for one final time.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and even though I didn’t want to look at Maisie, I forced my gaze up. Shame sank its teeth into me, and I wanted nothing more than to flee back underneath my duvet, but these words were long, long overdue. “For hurting you freshman year.”
Maisie’s lips parted, and she sucked in a breath as if to speak, but she didn’t. Not for a moment. She blinked as the apology hit her, looking somewhat surprised. “Thank you.”
“I should’ve apologized years ago. I shouldn’t have pushed the blame onto anyone but myself.” Tears filled my eyes. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“And I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you,” Maisie replied. “I always knew how bad of an influence Jade was. I always knew she put you up to it. I should’ve fought for you—for our friendship.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, and now, her words did more than tickle—they shattered something inside me.
My watery eyes pooled over then, and Maisie and I seemed to reach for each other at the same time.
Despite having grown since our last hug, we fit together just as we used to, holding on.
She smelled like strawberries and ink and Maisie, and equally as comforting as her arms around me.
Jade’s perfume had always been choking, headache-inducing, but the scent of Maisie was like the scent of home.
We held each other while I cried—and I would’ve sworn I heard Maisie sniffle once or twice—but it wasn’t long before there was another knock at my door, this one harder. “How’s it going?” Mom’s voice was tentative, as if afraid to actually peek in.
I turned to find her barely in the doorway, the hope clear on her face. “I think we’re making progress.”
“I might’ve made chocolate chip cookies,” Mom said a little awkwardly. “If you think they’d help?”
“Well, they definitely wouldn’t hurt.” Maisie stood up from the bed, discreetly swiping at her damp cheeks, but I caught her. She cleared her throat, playing unaffected. “But you have to get out of bed and come get them, Madison. Before I eat them all.”
I laughed as Maisie hurried out into the hallway, getting first dibs on the cookies in the kitchen, but Mom lingered behind. I swung my legs over my bed, stood, and walked over to her. “Thanks, Mom.” I wrapped an arm around her in a hug.
“You didn’t want to talk to me,” Mom murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Maisie was the only one I could think of.”
I gave a small smile. “Maisie was the only one I would’ve talked to.”
“So that was the right parent move?”
“Yeah, Mom.” I leaned my head against her shoulder, taking one last moment, even though the scent of freshly baked cookies was in the air. “You were great.”