Page 114 of Nobody in Particular

I can’t help it. I laugh at this. Not because it’s particularly funny. But because it’s so monstrous. “You know,” I say, “if you had put it like that—if you had appealed to my logic, rather than targeting Danni to appeal to my emotions? I may have agreed with you. It’s entirely possible I might have gotten engaged to you, Alfie. But you’re talking about me like I’m a bonfire you had under control. And for some unimaginable reason, you decided to throw gas on me.”

And the most ironic part of this? Before Alfie’s decision to toy with me, I was logic personified. I barely had access to my emotions.

If I’m a wildfire now, it’s partly because of him. And it’s the only favor he’s done for me I’m even slightly tempted to thank him for.

“Danni was never going to get expelled,” he says, as though I don’t understand. As though that’s the problem with all of this. “It was just a small story to prevent future ones. Like a prescribed burn,” he says, looking pleased with himself for adding to my metaphor.

I feel a shaking, hot fury suddenly spark in my stomach and spread through my veins, like molten spiderwebs igniting beneath my skin. I think I might actually hate him. “You weren’t manipulating the media, Alfie. You were manipulating me.”

“Only because I had to. To protect you. I care about you more than anybody, Rosie.”

At this, I slowly rise to my feet, and look down at him. “I believe you think you do,” I tell him. “Or, at least, I believe you’ve convinced yourself you do. But your eyes are empty.” I clench my jaw as he stares back at me. “And once you see it, you can’t unsee it,” I finish, before I leave him without waiting for a response.

I make a beeline for the office, and shut myself in the first vacant room. It belongs to the head of the English department, Mr. Promton. Hopefully he doesn’t return anytime soon. Steadying myself on the bookcase, I gasp for air and double over, my vision swimming. Then I shut my eyes, shove my fist in my mouth as a muffler, and scream until the air leaves my lungs.

Iama wildfire. And I intend to burn it all down.

FIFTYROSE

Danni, Eleanor, and Molly are sitting on consecutive chairs in the waiting room. As soon as I enter, Danni scrambles to her feet and throws her arms around me. In her excitement, she doesn’t notice that I’ve been shaken to my core.

“Rose, Rose, Rose,” she whispers ecstatically. “I did it! I got them to un-expel me! We don’t even need William anymore!”

I pull back from her and try to parse her words with my foggy mind. “You’re… not expelled?”

“Yup. I got a huge newspaper involved, and threatened to run a feature story about the school being homophobic assholes, and the headmaster is speaking to the alumni association now, but he’s pretty much confirmed it. Mom’s in there with him. Oh my god, I was freaking out. I thought I was done for.”

I shake my head as I process this. She saved herself. My beautiful girl, the one who was terrified of being seen, and judged, and making a bad impression, used the media to save us both?

Just like Alfie. But at the same time, the furthest thing from him.

“That’s amazing,” I say, and though I mean it, something feels off. Unfinished.

It doesn’t matter what I do now. I could call William and sendhim home, and we could go to class, and Danni would be completely safe. For now, at least.

But not forever. Even if I never speak to Alfie or William again, there will always be more of them. People looking to force my hand for their own gain. And as long as I have such an exploitable secret, involving someone I love so fiercely, my hand will be awfully easy to force.

So, while this changes everything, it also changes nothing. I know exactly what I must do.

But first, I approach Molly. “I am so sorry,” I say, shame cracking my voice. “It was appalling of me to suspect you. I know you better than that.”

Molly crosses one leg over the other. “Yeah. It sucked.” She meets my eyes, and then rolls hers. “But I understand where it came from, so I’m giving you a Get Out of Jail Free card. Once. And I appreciate the apology.”

We nod at each other, neither of us quite ready to smile yet.

“There’s a crowd of reporters at the gate,” I tell the group.

“Yeah,” says Danni. “I think theSpectatorsent some people over when they found out I’m getting expelled.”

“I think they may have told a few of their friends as well,” I say wryly. And then, I draw a deep breath, and cock my head to beckon them. “Come with me,” I say, already walking.

They follow.

The thing is, I am not naturally suited for this role, not the way my parents are. The way Alfie is—an opinion I only hold more firmly now that I’m aware of the extent of his ruthlessness. On the topic of Alfie, he isn’t wrong about me, either. I am impulsive, and selfish, and shortsighted. I would prefer to be around my close friends than a room full of strangers, and small talk makes me shudder, and I don’t always know the right thing to say. I’m sarcastic, and I don’t see the best in everybody, and I struggle with my emotions far more than I should.

But, for better or worse, I am a symbol. And I think, in many ways, I can do more for this country if I allow that symbol to represent who I truly am, rather than a curated lie. Because I want to be good, and I want to serve my country without fear or vulnerability tomanipulation. I want to make choices for the benefit of others, not simply to save my own reputation. And I cannot do that if I’m forced to lie under duress until my deathbed.

Students are already gathering at the gates to speak to the journalists. The rumors of Danni’s expulsion have undoubtedly traveled through the school grapevine. The crowd begins to scream my name when they see me cross the courtyard, sticking their arms through gaps in the fence as though it will help them reach across the meters that separate us. It’s an eagerness that borders on hysteria. A new development to an existing story is news enough on a slow day, but a quote from the princess would bump up the story’s importance significantly. More than likely, they’re hoping I’ll say something quotable enough to push things to the front page.

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