I knew they were just trying to be nice. I knew they just wanted to make me feel better.
But it was too late. Lilly’s total annihilation of me—in such a public manner—was the straw that broke the camel’s entire spinal column. And the fact that Lilly—Lilly, of all people!—was behind that stupid website?
I guess I always knew it.
But to hear her admit it like that—so proudly, like she wanted me to know…
I had to get out of there. I knew by doing so, I was just being what Lilly had accused me of—a whiny victim.
But I really needed to just be alone.
Which is what I’m doing here in the third-floor stairwell, which leads to the locked roof door, and where no one ever goes…
No one but Lilly and me, that is, when we’ve been upset about something in the past.
Lars is standing guard at the bottom of the stairs to keep anyone from coming up. He seems genuinely concerned about me. He went, “Princess, should I call your mother?”
I was like, “No, thanks, Lars.”
And then he was all, “Well, then, your father, maybe?”
And I was like, “NO!”
He looked kind of taken aback by my vehemence. But I was afraid he was going to ask if he should call Dr. Knutz next.
Thankfully, though, he just nodded and said, “All right, then. If you’re sure…”
Am I ever sure. I told him I just needed to be by myself for a little while. I said I’d be right back down…
But it’s been fifteen minutes, and I don’t feel like the tears are going to stop anytime soon. I just—how could she say those things? After everything we’ve been through together? How could she WRITE those things on her site? How can she think I would ever do anything like what she accused me of? How could she ever be so…so cruel?
Oh, no. I hear footsteps. Lars is letting someone up! WHY, LARS, WHY???? I told you—
Friday, September 24, G & T
Oh, God. That was so…
Random.
Really. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it.
Which makes it no wonder Ms. Martinez despairs of my ever being a successful freelance writer or journalist.
But, seriously! How else can I put it? It was just…RANDOM.
And what was Lars THINKING? I told him to let NO ONE up. Except for Principal Gupta or a teacher, OBVIOUSLY.
So how did BORIS become exempt from that?
But sure enough, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and the next thing I knew, BORIS was there, all out of breath, like he’d been running.
At first I was worried he was going to tell me HE loves me, too (well, whatever, it’s amazing the things that start happening when you finally grow into a 36C).
But he just went, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all over. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but it’s not true.”
“What’s not true, Boris?” I asked him, totally confused.
“What Lilly just said,” he said. “About Michael being sick of you. I can’t tell you how I know. But I do.”
I smiled at him. Even though I was still in total despair and everything, I couldn’t help it. Really, Tina is so lucky. She has the most fantastic boyfriend in the entire world.
Fortunately, she knows it.
“Thanks, Boris,” I said, trying to wipe away my tears with my sleeve so I didn’t look like quite as much of a lunatic as I was pretty sure I did. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”
“I’m not being sweet,” Boris insisted earnestly, still panting from all the running around he’d been doing, looking for me. “I’m telling the truth. And you should write him back.”
I blinked at him, more confused than ever. “W-what? Write who back?”
“Michael,” Boris said. “He’s been e-mailing you, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, stunned. “But how did you—”
“You should write him back,” Boris said. “I mean, just because you’re broken up doesn’t mean you can’t be friends anymore. Isn’t that what you both agreed? That you’d still be friends?”
“Yes,” I said, bewildered. “But, Boris, how do you know he’s been e-mailing me? Did…did Tina tell you?”
Boris hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. That’s right, Tina told me.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, I can’t e-mail him back, Boris. I’m just…I’m not ready to be friends with him yet. It still hurts too much not to be more than friends.”
“Well,” Boris said. “I can understand that, I guess. But…you should e-mail him back as soon as you feel ready. So he doesn’t think—you know. That you hate him. Or that you’ve forgotten about him. Or whatever.”
As if THAT’S ever going to happen.
I assured Boris I’d e-mail Michael when I felt emotionally capable of doing so without falling apart and begging him in eighteen-point type to take me back.
Then Boris did the nicest thing. He volunteered to walk me to class (once I’d pulled myself together and gotten rid of the evidence of my tears…smeared mascara, snot down my nose, etc.).
So the three of us—Boris, Lars, and I—all got to G and T at the same time (late).
But it didn’t matter, since neither Mrs. Hill nor Lilly is here.
I suppose Lilly’s skipping to meet Kenny somewhere. They’re like a regular Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain. Minus the heroin. All Lilly needs is to start smoking, though, and maybe get a tattoo or two, she’ll have completely perfected her tough girl image.