Fifteen
To say I was excited about returning to school after winter break would be an understatement.
The first day back, Elliot and I strolled through the hall, our fingers clasped as the posters he created decorated almost every surface, not only in the hallways but also in the classrooms. The teachers were furious.
Everyone tried to point the finger at me, but they had no proof.
It was laughable, really. Maybe Elliot’s rebellion was starting to rub off on me.
Or maybe I was just sick of letting Meredith control the narrative of my life.
Most people stared in awe, some out of bewilderment, and others in disgust. It was worth it either way. I finally felt like this was my way of saying— I’m not ashamed . Still, the attention was a bit…much.
“People are staring,” Elliot whispered as he ducked his head next to my ear.
“Yep.”
“I hate this.”
“Yep.”
“Why did I let you talk me into this?”
“Technically, you’re the one who offered.”
“ Semantics,” he groaned.
I laughed, pulling his arm down the hall as he huffed out a dramatic sigh.
“Don’t be a baby, Abercrombie.”
“I’m used to attention,” he justified with a shrug. “When you get detention every week, it’s hard for people not to notice you, but this feels… weird .”
“Well…” I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Now, you’re getting noticed for something else.”
“ Bleh .”
“Seriously.” I poked him with my finger, jabbing his side, causing him to let out a high-pitched yelp. “Your art is amazing, so own it.”
The electric spark that shot from my fingertips to my core was hard to ignore as he grabbed my hand again to keep me from poking him. Spontaneous ripples bubbled in my chest.
My mind flashed, the image of his face inching closer to mine as his hand snaked across my waist burned into my brain.
I could still remember the feeling of his lips on mine, so gentle yet feverish, I could almost taste it. It was nothing like kissing Ryan. It was nothing like kissing anyone I’d ever been with before. And it was all I could think about since.
As the day crept forward, my thoughts of Elliot only blossomed more. Three times a day . That’s how many times I would see him this semester—once before class started, once during lunch, and once at the end of the day during AP Lang—but three times didn’t feel like enough.
My eyes glazed over while listening to my anatomy teacher ramble on about her failed nursing career.
Staring up at the clock, I counted down the minutes until I could see Elliot again.
When lunch finally arrived, I walked with a gentle spring in my step as I bounded to our small circular table in the far corner of the room.
I sat across from Andrew and Dani, smiling brightly as I plopped down my tray.
“ Ugh. Why are you so smiley?”
“Andrew,” Dani groaned while taking a bite out of her apple. “Play nice.”
“I’m always smiley.”
“Not like…” He narrowed his eyes at me while flicking his wrist in a circular motion, gesturing at my appearance. “This.”
“That’s n—”
Dani cut me off, holding up her apple as she spoke with her mouth full of unchewed fruit. “You do seem kinda glow-y today.”
“I’m not—”
“What’s going on with you?” she prodded again.
“Jesus, what’s with the third degree? And where’s Elliot?”
Andrew cocked his brow. “Shouldn’t you know? You are his girlfriend, right ?”
“Of course, I am!” I yelled with far too much volume. I immediately recoiled, biting my lip as I smoothed out my sweater, trying to calm myself. “I just don’t keep tabs on him like that. I’m not his mom.”
“Yeah.” Andrew shrugged. “Neither am I. So, I have no idea where he is.”
I sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I didn’t even bother dignifying a response as the three of us sat in silence, waiting for Elliot to arrive. Sliding my phone off the table, I dropped it onto my lap and typed out a message.
He was always looking out for his sister. Just like Jessie used to look after me . My gaze was trained downward as I picked at the skin surrounding my nails.
“Clarke, can we talk?”
I looked up to see Camryn standing in front of me, her head hanging as she avoided my eyeline. My lips pursed into a thin line. Shooting a quick glance at Andrew and Dani, I slid to the side, making room for her at the table.
“Uh, sure.”
“But like…alone.”
“Oh.” I frowned, mentally smacking myself at my own stupidity. “Yeah.”
I rose to my feet, following as she led me to an empty table next to the trash cans that most people tended to avoid. I scrunched my nose as we sat down, only sobering up when I noticed the strained expression on her face.
She folded one hand over the other, still looking at everything except me.
I cocked my head to the side. “You okay?”
“No. I…I don’t…” She rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “I never wanted to be a cheerleader. I was just trying to live up to my sister’s reputation. And being a base? I didn’t train for that.”
“Oh. I mean, cheer season is basically over. There are a few small things, but I guess if you want to be a flyer—”
“No!” She raised her voice, causing me to flinch. Guilt lingered on her face as she sighed. “Sorry. I just…I don’t want to be anything.”
The fog occupying my mind lifted. The pieces began to fall into place as her words sank in. She didn’t want to cheer at all anymore . The only reason she was doing it in the first place was because of her sister.
My mouth was left slightly agape as I pondered the right words to say. I sighed.
How could I offer her any kind of advice when I was living a lie too? Streaks of mascara stained her cheeks. My features softened as I stared at her. Just say something real, Clarke. No rehearsing the perfect words over and over. Just speak .
I bit my lip, flaring my nostrils as my voice found its way out of my mouth, somehow overcoming the part of my brain urging it to stay silent. “No one can force you to be someone you aren’t. If you don’t want to be on the team, don’t be on the team.”
“But my sister would be so disappointed—”
“I think she’d be more disappointed knowing you aren’t being yourself,” I said while shrugging my shoulders. “In fact, as of right now, I’m kicking you off the team.”
“Wait.” She paused, her glistening eyes reflecting a flicker of hope. “Really?”
“If that’s what you want, then yeah.”
“I think…it is.”
“Okay.” I puffed out my cheeks. “Then, you’re fired. Go live your life.”
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna put you in a bad position by—”
“Go, Cam. Just go…be happy,” I said breathlessly. “And talk to your sister. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
I swallowed hard, my gaze inching downward bit by bit.
“Okay.” She nodded, each time more confidently than the last. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
I cleared my throat, throwing back my hair as she got up and walked away.
I angled my chin up, getting lost in the droning of the pale lights anchored to the ceiling.
My eyes stung with moisture as I shook my wrists and arched my back until my posture became rigid.
I am a hypocrite. I knew that. But unlike Camryn’s sister, I couldn’t just expect my sister to forgive me for quitting because she was dead.
For weeks, I had been so focused on Elliot that I forgot about what senior year was all about. I needed to win Prom Queen. The hairs on my arm stood at attention as I clawed at my jeans. I hated the person I had become.
Ever since I met Meredith, I could barely recognize myself anymore.
No matter how much it pained me, I knew I had to keep playing the role of the pretty Princess in order to be liked at least to a certain degree.
It was one thing to stop being friends with Meredith, but it was another thing to destroy everything that people liked about ‘me’ in the first place.
I couldn’t tarnish my reputation any more than I already had.
Around me, I watched as no one paid me a second glance, gliding by as though I didn’t exist. Even in the lunchroom, my face was plastered all over the walls. I buried my head in my hands. Maybe I shouldn’t have put those posters up.
Was I being too obnoxious?
Did people resent me for trying so hard?
Were they ignoring my presence because I screwed over the Meredith Sawyer?
Or maybe it was because I turned down star quarterback Ryan Connors?
Did the outcasts’ opinions carry less weight than Elliot suggested?
Whatever it was, I knew that I couldn’t go back. I just had to keep pushing forward like everything was okay and act like I was still the same old Clarke I portrayed myself as when I first moved here, all while praying to God that I could win over the outcasts to garner a few votes.
As much as I longed to choose myself and follow my own desires, the way Camryn had, that wasn’t a choice I could afford. This wasn’t just about me; it was about justice.
What started at the beginning of the day as enthusiasm faded to lackluster.
I squeezed my eyelids together, pushing back tears as I picked myself up and trudged back over to Andrew and Dani.
A hollow ache gnawed at my inner rib cage.
I pushed away the tray of food in front of me, rubbing my temples.
“You’re frowning.” Andrew smirked. “That’s more like it.”
Something inside me cracked as I slammed my palms against the table, leaning forward, and my tongue snapping like a whip.
“What’s your problem with me, Andrew? Because I’m tired of your constant teasing.
I don’t have time for your fucking games.
I can’t…” My voice wavered; the anger being unmasked by the pain.
“I don’t…” The tears pricking my eyes bubbled to the surface, rolling down my face. I wiped them immediately. “ Fuck .”
“Shit,” Dani mumbled. She circled the table and sat beside me, placing a hand on my back.
“Whoa, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Stop,” I pleaded while pushing Dani’s arm away. “Please, stop. Just…just tell me why you hate me.”