Chapter 20 Unlikely Alliances
UNLIKELY ALLIANCES
The sob sounds mid-pee and I flinch as the stall door next to me slams shut. It slams shut so hard, the entire line of stalls quivers. I keep peeing, wipe, and flush all to the sounds of terrible, gut-wrenching sobs.
My mind races with possibilities, all of them horrible. Sobs like this can mean only one thing. Loss.
I wash my hands slowly. Okay, I’m trying to see if I can catch sight of who might be sobbing her heart out in the stall through the crack in the door. I can’t see anything but long blonde hair.
I finish washing my hands and dry them. Then, hesitantly, I knock on the stall.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Just go away, Faye!”
I know instantly who is inside the stall. I’ve heard that voice with all that hate too many times not to know. “Shyanne, I just want to help.”
“You can’t.” The way she sobs the words, so broken, pulls at the feminine part of me that knows we need to stand together with our girls. “Just go away, okay? Please.”
I don’t leave. I back up until I’m at the counter, and slide onto it where I’m firmly out of her sight. Then I wait.
For a long while, she sobs harder. My heart hurts for her the entire time as my mind races. I think about texting Andy to join us, because I’m not sure that Shyanne will talk to me, but I figure she’ll talk to Andy. And right now, I think she needs a friend.
I’m just about to pull my phone from my pocket when the lock slides and the stall door opens. Shyanne appears, her face blotchy, her eyes rimmed red. Mascara streaks paint her cheeks, and she looks a little like something from a horror movie. She’s not a pretty crier, but who actually is.
“Ugh.” She stops to glare at me. “Why the hell are you still here?”
I shrug. “It felt wrong to leave you like this.”
“We’re not friends.” She moves to the sink to splash water on her face.
“That doesn’t matter to me. Not when you’re obviously hurting.”
She lifts her face and as soon as she catches sight of her reflection in the mirror, she breaks down again.
The keening sound of her cry urges me from the counter.
I grab a paper towel on my way to her, handing it to her before I pull her into my arms. Even though it’s reluctant, she hugs me back. And then she sobs into my sweater.
She whispers, “I saw Kevin kissing Jenna.”
I pull back to meet her sorrow-swollen eyes. With my hands on her shoulders, I say firmly, “He’s stupid.”
She sniffs. “He said he loved me.”
Kevin tells everyone he loves them. I don’t say that.
“You’re beautiful, Shyanne. And you’re nice.”
She cries, “I’m not nice to you.”
“No. Not to me.” I shrug. “But you’re nice to everyone else. He’s a fool who lost his shot at an amazing girl.”
She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “Jenna is supposed to be my best friend.”
“A best friend would never do that to you.” It becomes clear now that she’s not mourning the boy who told her he loved her. She’s mourning the best friend she lost.
I pull her in for another hug. She’s not so stiff this time, so I squeeze. “You can do way better than Kevin and Jenna.”
“Yeah.” She sniffles again, before pulling back. She eyes me through messy eyes. “You’re way nicer than I wanted you to be, Faye.”
“Sorry.” I laugh.
Plucking the paper towel I’ve crushed in my hand; she pulls it flat. She peers at me through the mirror as she attempts to fix her makeup. “I wanted to hate you so bad.”
“I know.”
“I really liked Holt,” she admits quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
Her lips curl in a smile. It’s soft and kind. It’s the smile Andy tells me Shyanne is capable of. The smile I’ve never seen.
She blows a breath from between puffy cheeks. “I know. I know you didn’t steal him from me. I get it. I just felt—I needed someone to be mad at and Holt’s just way too hot to stay pissed at, you know? It was easier to blame the girl.”
“I hope you don’t think the same about Kevin.” I slide my bum onto the counter, swinging my legs. “It takes two to betray someone.”
Her eyes dip into the sink. “I hate that I still love Jenna.”
She starts to cry again.
I slide from the counter and wrap her up in my arms. This time, there’s no resistance at all.
“Want to get out of here?”
Shyanne looks at me with a frown. But beyond the frown, there’s too much hope to ignore. “And go where?”
“Cherry’s.” I offer. “I think you need something with sugar, and I don’t have the strength to refuse something sweet.”
“Let’s do it.”
For the first time in my life, I skip class.