Bruised Purple #2
She shoves her phone into my face, and I catch a glimpse of me and Jamie at one of the cafés beside Washington Square Park.
I’m beaming in the photo, looking up at him, and he’s matching my smile.
I’ve never seen myself look this happy before.
We’re both holding smoothies. He convinced me to get mango passionfruit.
“So is that where you had to go after brunch?” She seethes. “For a date?”
I scoff. “Okay, calm down; it wasn’t a date.”
“Really?” she spits out. “It’s just a coincidence he turned me down today. Just a coincidence this all started when you transferred here. I always knew you were a desperate bitch, sucking up to fit in. But I can’t really blame you. I mean, all stereotypes have a degree of truth.”
Beneath the shock and the mortification, fury swims in my head.
“So have fun with Jamie,” she sneers. “What did you do to get him to go out with you? Did you tell him you’ve never had a boyfriend before? That he’d be the only one who scored? That you’re so desperate you’d do anything?”
I ball my hands into fists. I want to punch her.
I want to throttle her, but I know even if I was able to land a hit, I wouldn’t come out a winner.
I’d be expelled, and there’d go Baba’s hard-earned tuition money and Opus.
I’d be back home for God knows how long, stuck with a ghost. And that would be the best-case scenario, if she didn’t press charges.
It takes everything in me and more to turn from her and walk away, my legs and arms shaking. I’m about to explode, becoming a mural myself, the anguished, enraged colors in me splattered all over this school. She must not have expected me to do that, because she doesn’t follow me.
I have no appetite and I’m still shaking hours later, still wanting to let out a scream that’s choking me.
I avoid Jamie at all costs during the rest of our shared classes, walking in late and getting reprimanded by the teachers, to the class’s amusement. Alexis avoids eye contact with me.
When the last bell rings, I leave early to get my things from my locker and head home.
But when I get there, I see a crowd gathered around it.
The panel is wrenched open, all the contents inside spilling out.
The papers from the textbooks are all over the floor, some with shoe prints like someone walked all over them.
“Did you photocopy the textbooks?” someone asks, and I don’t know if they’re poking fun at me. I don’t even know who they are, because I refuse to look back. “Oh my God, she did.”
I have no choice but to kneel and collect my papers.
I hear a camera go off and bite my lip. The humiliation is so palpable, I feel it like a second skin.
It’s slimy, making my stomach turn. A couple of people leave, having had their fill.
Once I have all the papers, I get up, my mind whirring.
I try to think, debating putting them back into the locker.
But it’s broken, so I have no choice but to put them into my bag along with everything else that was spilled onto the floor.
I gather what’s left of my dignity and stand, facing the crowd. I force my head up, not letting anything show on my face. A group of younger girls separate so I can pass between them, giving me pitying looks.
When I look up, I see Audrey is among the crowd, watching with her lips and eyes parted in shock.
I find my tongue and say, “You want to write about this?”
She looks at me like I’ve slapped her and steps back before turning and walking away.
But my humiliation isn’t over, because among the other faces is Jamie.
He stands at the back, clearly having seen the whole thing.
I hate that he saw everything, even more so when I notice the hesitation in his expression.
I know this hesitation. I’ve seen it countless times on the streets when someone who needs help is looking for it in the eyes of strangers.
But then he slowly steps forward, and it’s too much for me. I move, nearly running away. I don’t look back.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t hesitation.
Shame burns through me, and I imagine how pathetic I looked on the floor like that.
I’m not someone others would defend in a heartbeat.
My worth is seconds of unease and indecision.
The worst part is, deep down I know Alexis wouldn’t have defended me either.
She would have hesitated. She might have walked away.
For some reason, I just didn’t think Jamie would be like that.
Not after how he rushed to my aid with Adrian.
I thought when he told me he’d like to be friends, it meant something.
He doesn’t know what those words meant to me.
That I’ve always wanted to be the person who was picked and not left behind.
That growing up shy, growing up with a mother who teetered on the verge of death made everything difficult for me.
But words are just that. Uneven ground that crumbles at the slightest pressure.
My insides become heavier and heavier until I know I can collapse into myself and became a statue. Maybe then I won’t feel a thing. Maybe then I will be left alone. A ghost among the living.