Page 7 of Insurgent

I exhale. “Yeah.”

“You all right?” he asks.

I scoff. “Define all right? I’m staring at the toilet in a prom dress. My boyfriend is out doing God knows what. He may even be dead.” My soul slams to the bottom of my heart at the thought of that and I choke on a sob.

“Can you open the door?” he asks.

I don’t answer. Instead, I stand up, reaching to flush the toilet before sliding the latch.

Samuel stands with his hands slid into his pockets. I’m ready for the I-told-you-so speech. I brace myself for it, but it doesn’t fall from his lips.

He gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry,” he says.

And I never expected that.

“You’re sorry? For what?”

“That my brother is hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault. Danny is…Danny.” I shrug.

He shakes his head. “I’ve heard that all my life, you know? Danny is Danny.” He scoffs. “It’s fucking bullshit.”

I blink, surprised to hear that language coming from Samuel.

“Danny doesn’t have to be the way he is. Everyone always accepts the heartache he gives, forgetting that he doesn’t have to give it. He could care a little more about the people who love him and not be such a screw-up.”

I don’t say anything, because he isn’t wrong.

“Look, I’ve got a date out there. She’s probably wondering where I ran off to. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m okay,” I say. “I think I’m gonna get out of here.”

“Did you drive?” he asks me.

“No. Hale dropped me off.”

He nods. “Well, I can give you a ride home.”

“And leave your date? No, I’d never ask you to do that.”

“It’s not a problem. We’re not going out or anything. She’s just a friend.”

“Does she know that?” I ask.

He grins. “I hope.”

I exhale.

“I’ll go talk to her. Can you meet me outside?”

“Okay,” I say gently. Samuel leaves the room and I walk to the sink, looking at the mascara under my eyes. I run a hand under them, rinse my mouth, and head outside.

It takes a little bit for Samuel to walk out, so I sit on the bench, watching as people filter in and out. Some are clearly a little tipsy. Others are teasing the teachers we’ve all grown to know so well, and here I am sitting alone in a polka dot prom dress with the taste of vomit in my mouth.

I look at my phone and see it’s dead. I wonder what time it is. I was late for prom, and I only stayed long enough to have a sip of whiskey, cry, puke, and cause someone to lose their date.

What a shit show my life has become.

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